Derision (The Broken Bonds 7)

“I’m already gone,” she says, essentially slicing my chest open.

“Where are you?” When she doesn’t answer, I practically growl into the phone, “Where the fuck are you?”

“Thank you for what you did for my brother,” she says, and it infuriates me more. This whole debacle is because she took issue with my interference into her life.

“Alexis, I demand to know—” I pound my fist against the door “—please, Alexis. Tell me where you are. We’ll figure this out, but—”

“Chase…I can’t. I know that Jake will be okay, and you’ll be okay.” The phone is muffled and I hear a sob break through the line. My gut clenches.

“Alexis?”

“I’m starting over, Chase. I have to get away from here and just start over.”

Three quick beeps end the call.

“Fuck!” My fist makes contact with the door, leaving a dent. I’m only rational enough to keep from smashing my phone.

I open the door and slam it behind me, clicking my key fob to unlock my car. Another man might accept this rejection. Might drink himself stupid and go find the quickest, easiest pussy to bury his dick in.

But I’m too stubborn for that. If Alexis is this distraught over her brother, this lost over us…then she needs me. She’s strong—stronger than she even realizes—but it’s usually the strong who break the hardest. She’s breaking.

There’s a sick twisting in my stomach that grips me whole, my instincts shouting to go to her. I’ll be damned if I lose her tonight. I’ll be damned if I don’t do everything within my power to stop that from happening.

I pull up the GPS on her phone. Another thing she might despise me for…but she can scold me all she wants later. I’ll gladly take the beating as soon as I have her in my arms.

21

Beast of Burden

Alexis

“That was pathetic.” Mason grips my chin, forcefully raising my gaze to his face. “You were supposed to make him believe, Alexis. To save his life.” He tsks. “You barely made me believe you want him to live, and I don’t want to have to end him. I rather like Chase. He’s a damn fine lawyer who I consider a friend.”

I suck in an unsteady breath and jerk free of his hold. “He’ll believe it when…” I trail off, unable to voice what’s to happen next, even if I’ve accepted my fate. “When I disappear,” I grit out between clenched teeth.

Mason drops my phone and stomps it. The crack echoes around the office, severing my link to Chase. “A precaution,” he says.

My wrists burn from the leather belt, my failed attempts to twist free having torn my flesh. My bare skin is blanketed in sheets of ice-cold sweat. My bra and underwear a flimsy barrier to the chilly air. Yet still I maintain my fight.

Mason tucks the gun into his waistband behind his back, his eyes narrowed on me. Then, his hand lands another slap to my face. My vision explodes in white. The blinding pain dulls into a throb as I choke back a cry.

“Chase is smarter than you,” I say, willing my voice steady. I look up, blinking my vision clear. “Malcolm goes to jail, then what? You’ll have to find another scapegoat. Because you’re sick. You can’t stop. You’ve already made one mistake by leaving your DNA behind. You’ll make another. Chase won’t need me to put it together, then.”

He raises his fist and I recoil, bracing for the impact.

It doesn’t come.

Instead, he yanks the skylark necklace from my neck and pockets it. My skin burns, the lingering sting of the chain still there. He grabs the knotted belt behind my back. “Get up,” he orders.

I struggle to my feet as he hauls me off the floor. “Where are you taking me?”

“To my scapegoat, baby,” he says, yanking me forward, and I cringe at the word. I loathe it. More than I loathe Mason’s attempts to defile me. The memories it evokes. “You’re just too damn smart a cunt, but at least I don’t have to bother with any pretenses.”

I lift my chin despite my fear. I fought Mason off once, I’ll continue to fight. He can kill me…but I won’t let him violate me. I’ll do whatever’s necessary to make it end quickly before he gets the chance.

He shoves me against the wall. I lean there, watching him tidy my office, making me disappear. “You can’t keep using your clients as patsies—”

“Pawns,” he