Slowly, it dawns on me the true extent of what signing my name on that bit of paper meant. I’m about to lead a long, lonely existence just like the man sitting opposite of me, and maybe that’s my true punishment for what I did to him. Like I haven’t endured enough.
“The place you took me to the other week…Club X, Lisa called it. What do you do there?”
His fingers are back to drumming on the table. “Why?”
“Just curious. Those other women—you brought them there, right? Why did it never work with them?”
Dropping his fork, he wipes his mouth with a napkin. “I see you and Bethany had an interesting conversation.”
“Maybe.” I mess with the tablecloth. “She thinks you run a sex cult.”
A muscle jumps in his neck. “Does she now?”
“Can I see?”
“No, and out of perplexed curiosity, why the fuck would you have the slightest interest if it were the truth?”
“I’ve just found out that I’m about to spend the rest of my goddamn days as your prisoner, Milton,” I say, body shaking with anger and hurt, and God knows what else this psycho has done to me. “The least you can do is answer my questions. Show me what this means.” Holding up my hand, the ring sparkles in the candlelight. “Let’s pretend that tonight, I’m not me. I’m just a woman you dressed up and made pretty at the salon. One you wined and dined—”
The ring of his phone cuts me off. His eyes spark with annoyance when he takes it out of his pocket and peers down at the screen. “This better be good,” he bites into the phone and then hangs up seconds later. “Looks like you’re about to get your fucking wish,” he mumbles, standing up. “Let’s go.”
There are two reasons why I know where we’re going even before we leave Fair Haven. Milton’s mood and the ball of dread in the depths of my stomach. We speed down the highway, and my knuckles turn white as I grip the seat. The journey is all too familiar as we turn off in the direction of the elusive Club X.
We go down the dirt road with thick trees and onward to the mansion. Resembling every bit like a conjured-up nightmare, I’m not entirely sure why I argued to see it again. I’m shaking as we pull into the driveway, mine and Milton’s conversation weighing heavily on my mind.
Like last time, a man comes to take the car away after we get out. Grabbing my hand, a habit he seems to prefer, Milton takes me inside the creepy cold entranceway. He doesn’t pause, pace quickening as he takes a right turn, letting go of me briefly to pull the key card from his pocket.
“Lucius,” he addresses an older gentleman with dark eyes, a balding head, and wearing a tailored suit. “I’m taking you found what I was looking for?”
“Yes. He’s in room eight. Anything else, sir?”
“No, that will be all.” With a nod, the man leaves, and Milton pulls me in the opposite direction, the stairs that lead to the red tunnels.
Once underground, he lets go, and I trail after him as he storms ahead until we reach door eight, though there’s no number visible on its paint. Throwing it open without pause, Milton steps inside and stops. “Why am I not surprised to see your face?”
Peeking around Milton’s body, a man who appears to be in his twenties, stands from the seat he’s sitting in. It’s a bare room with only a table and one chair. Odd, given the big mystery surrounding these rooms. “Whatever you think I’ve done isn’t true. Tell your boy he picked up the wrong guy.”
“He’s never wrong, and unlike you, someone I trust,” he replies smoothly, calmly, but his clenched fists ruin the barely contained rage I know he’s bottling inside. “What was it you were offered to betray me?”
The man shakes his head. “Betray you? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“What was the offer you couldn’t refuse Nicolas Santos to get to her?” I blink in shock when Milton points in my direction. This is the guy Nicolas used to get into Stonehill? “I’m waiting.”
The man glances at me, but Milton steps to the side, blocking his view. “I don’t know a Nicolas Santos,” I hear him say, “I’ve never laid eyes on the bitch in my life.”
“Don’t lie to me. What was it?”
“Nothing, I swear.”
Milton’s body stiffens even more. “You were the only one working that night, so I will ask you again, what was it?” When there’s silence, Milton takes a step forward to grab him, but the man stumbles back, and now I can see him—a face full of fear.
“No—wait! It’s not what it looks like, it’s just, I’m trying, okay? I need it.”
“Need what? Fucking meth, is it?” Breathing out a heavy breath through his nose, I can only imagine Milton’s expression as he says, “You betrayed me for meth?” He pulls out a gun from his jacket. “Pity.”
Realizing his fate as Milton pulls back the trigger, the man’s splutters, “W-Wait! I have kids!”
“They’re better off.” He pulls the trigger, and the gun fires. My legs stumble back, the chicken I ate churning in my stomach when I hear the distinctive thud as the man drops to the floor. My heart rams against my chest as I lean against the wall away from room eight, not sure why a man who hates me keeps killing for me.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Gazing into the fire, at the flames cavorting within the fireplace, it’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop on the marble stone floor. Opposite, with a glass
