Tempted Heir (The Heirs 7)
Page 39
The leather lashes at my back, white-hot pain licking across my skin. I scream and arch away from the belt, even though I’m filled with relief that he’s at least not raping me.
“You’re nothing without me,” he growls.
Another strike has pain searing itself into my flesh, drawing another agonizing scream from me.
He grabs hold of my hair, yanking my head back. I feel his breath on my ear, and it sends a wave of revulsion through me. “Do you really think you’d be able to get Christopher to marry you? He’d get tired of your fat ass always displaying every inch of skin. Men like him don’t share what belongs to them.”
The belt burns over my back again, making my body arch in an attempt to get away from the pain.
“Men like Christopher need a trophy wife on their arm,” he sneers, his words shredding my self-esteem to pieces as the leather tears at my skin.
When my screams turn to whimpers, it finally stops. There’s a constant ringing in my ears. My heart stopped racing, and I wish it would stop beating. The pain is too much. I know I have to be strong, but it’s too much.
Josh grabs hold of my hair again, yanking my head back, and then I feel his breath sticking to my jaw as he says, “Tell me you love me, Dash.”
I love Christopher.
“Go to hell,” my words slur. I want them to sound stronger. There’s no way I’ll ever tell him I love him. Those words belong to Christopher.
“Christopher’s not coming for you.” Josh comes around me until he’s standing in front of me. “He doesn’t care about you. Not the way I do.”
“He loves me,” I whisper. “He’ll come, and he’ll kill you for this.”
It’s the only hope I have.
It’s the only thought keeping me sane.
Josh raises an eyebrow at me, then he walks back to the paper bag. He pulls a brown envelope out, and as he comes back toward me, he removes A4 size photos. One by one, he drops them on the floor in front of me.
God, he really did have me followed.
How did I not know about this? Surely, I would’ve noticed, or at least feel someone watching me?
There’s one of me kissing Christopher in front of Tiffany & Co. Another of us kissing outside the restaurant the night we celebrated our engagement.
Just seeing Christopher’s face. God. I miss him so much.
There are also ones of Aunt Della, my mom, Miss Sebastian, Danny, and me looking at the wedding venue. The rest are of my father, Uncle Carter, and Christopher talking to Tristan and Alexei at a house I don’t recognize.
My lips curve up as hope explodes in my chest.
They are looking for me.
The flat of Josh’s hand connects with my cheek. “What is that smile for?”
I shake my head, but it only earns me another slap.
“Seeing my mother,” I yell at him.
My answer seems to calm him a little, but then he lifts his hands again, and when he takes hold of the sides of my head, panic and disgust floods me. Josh leans into me, and I begin to struggle to free myself from his grip.
He gives me a glare of warning, and the moment I keep still, his mouth presses to mine.
I shut my eyes tightly and firmly press my lips together until he pulls back. “I love you so much, Dash. Why can’t you understand I’m doing this for us? We can be so happy together.”
Bile rises in my throat as I realize I have a front-row seat to the unveiling of the monster that’s been living inside of Josh’s rotten soul all along.
God, why did my path ever cross with his?
It feels as if time has slowed down, and I’m stuck in an endless, torturous cycle with Josh. He hasn’t left since he got here this morning, and it’s already starting to grow dark.
I have no strength left.
“Tell me you love me,” he repeats again.
I can’t even shake my head where I hang limply. He’s been repeating the question, and when I don’t say the words, he resorts to either lashing my back with the belt or slapping me.
He keeps taunting me with food. Holding a slice of apple in his hand, he demands, “Tell me you love me, and I’ll let you eat.”
I’m weeping with pain, but there are no tears left to cool my face. My body is too dehydrated to generate any kind of fluid. Josh’s dead eyes stare into my feverish ones, and I can’t breakaway.
My breathing is sluggish. I haven’t eaten in three days, and my stomach is cramping from the lack of water and food.
I contemplate playing along, just to get food for energy, but I can’t force the words over my lips.
Suddenly, Josh reaches up, and when he unties my hand, my body slumps against his. He holds me to him, then presses a kiss to my temple. “Shh… I’ll make everything better.”