Truly Yours (Mason & Sophie 2, Roommate Duet 4)

“He’s going to kill her,” Hunter whispers.

“Not if we find him and kill him first,” Liam retorts as he helps me stand, and we rush out of the house.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t call the cops now? If he’s going to kill her either way…” Hunter says with concern written all over his face.

“The moment he hears or sees them, he won’t think twice about killing her on the spot. At least we can appease him while we look for her and shoot him first when we find them,” Liam says. I want to believe we’ll get there before something terrible happens to her, but with every second that passes, I fear the worst.

Chapter Three

Sophie

When I come to, my entire body feels as though I was thrown off a bull. When Caleb cut my arm and I saw blood, the world faded away once again. I’m not even sure how many times I’ve been unconscious. I was in shock, horrified that he could cut into my flesh as if I’m nothing more than a slab of meat. He found way too much satisfaction in my earth-shattering screams when he pushed the blade into my skin.

My eyes are nearly swollen shut, and my lips feel busted. My back hurts from being taped to this chair for so long. What Weston did to me doesn’t compare to what his brother has done tonight. I look up at Caleb and see the similarities between the two and wonder how I never noticed. I feel like a fucking fool. Same cheeks, same nose, and even the same coldness behind their eyes—they’re monsters cut from the same cloth.

“Finally,” Caleb huffs when he notices me stirring. He looks at me as though I’m a huge inconvenience, but I didn’t wish for this. All I wanted to do was support someone I thought was my friend, attend grief circle, and experience a first date with Mason. I should’ve known it was too good to be true—Mason and I. The timing is always wrong, but this is the most fucked-up way for the universe to show that. The thought nearly blinds me, but I try to push it away.

“Caleb,” I croak out, my throat dry as hell. The excruciating pain is causing my body to go into shock.

“Stop calling me that! My name isn’t Caleb, you dumb bitch.”

I swallow, not knowing what’s true and what isn’t anymore. At this point, I don’t care what his name is. I just want to get out of here alive and back to Mason, but I don’t know if that’ll happen. My heart races when I think about dying at the hands of this monster.

He watches me, amused.

“What should I call you then?” I ask, trying to keep him talking so maybe it’ll give me more time to live. Or, rather, figure out how to get out of here before it’s too late.

He snarls, then shrugs. “I guess you should know the name of your killer. It’s Dalton.”

I nearly choke on the thick air that fills the room. Does he really have it in him to kill me? From what I’ve seen already, I think he just might. I don’t doubt he’ll follow through with his threats, just as I didn’t doubt Weston. I have no reason to believe otherwise, not after he’s hit and cut me. I’m losing blood and hope.

“Your boyfriend must think I’m stupid as fuck.” Dalton snickers, pacing in front of me, turning up the volume on the police scanner. “If he makes a call about you missing, I’ll hear it, and he’ll regret it. I’m not a fucking idiot like he thinks.”

I try to swallow down the lump in my throat that’s quickly replaced with bile.

“No,” I whisper, but my response only pleases Dalton even more. “No one thinks you’re an idiot.”

I nod as he twirls the knife between his fingers. “Do I scare you, Sophie?”

No matter what answer I give, it won’t be good enough. It’s a loaded question because if I say yes, he’ll continue his sick, torturous game, and if I say no, he’ll change tactics until I am scared. After living with Weston and being pushed to my limits emotionally and physically, I never thought I’d feel fear like this again. When he died, I thought it was over, and I’d be safe.

The way my body trembles should be enough for Dalton, but it’s not. His ego drives him forward, just as it did Weston.

“Fucking answer me!” he screams, then slaps me across the face.

I wince but hold back from crying out. “Yes. You do,” I admit. “I thought I knew you, who you were. I thought we were friends,” I say with tears streaming down my cheeks because it’s the truth. I believed his whole damn story.

“And that was your downfall. Your issue is you trust too easily. You’re nothing more than a little lamb who so willingly followed a tiger into the jungle,” he mocks with a roar of laughter.