Buttons and Lace (Buttons 1)

Cane nodded, a smile forming on his lips. “I like it. I like it a lot.”

“Let’s get this plan straightened out. I want to do this as quickly as possible.”

“Yeah,” he said in agreement. “I want to fuck that slave of his as quickly as possible.”

Chapter Fourteen

Pearl

I didn’t want to be Mrs. Bones.

Damn, that was an ugly name.

When the police asked why I went through with it, I would just explain I didn’t have a choice in the matter. It was necessary for him to trust me. Once I gained that trust, I would take off.

And haul ass.

My life around the mansion became even more boring. I had nothing to do while he was at work. I didn’t have Internet, games, or even books. All I did was lie in bed and pass the time.

I watched the sun move across the sky, trying to figure out if I could really see it move or not. I tried to measure the progress with my thumb and one eye closed, but that didn’t work either.

I missed my life back at home.

I missed working. I missed the city. I missed Jacob. I hoped he was okay. Those men just wanted to traffic me, so I doubted they did anything worse to Jacob other than mug him. He probably made it home—safe and sound. I just hoped he didn’t waste all his time worrying about me. There was nothing he could do for me, so he may as well not think about it.

That night, Bones and I had dinner together like we always did. We didn’t really talk, so I wasn’t sure why he wanted me there. He didn’t tell me about his work. The only information he gave me was from that day in the factory. I knew he made weapons and sold them to people.

But I didn’t need to know more than that.

As far as I could tell, he didn’t have any friends or family. There were no photographs on the walls or picture albums tucked away on a bookshelf. There were hardly any signs of life in the house at all.

I had to wonder how he became this way. He was a monster, but had he always been a monster? Was he a normal person once upon a time? That was an answer I would never get. It wouldn’t change anything anyway, so there was no point in asking.

He cut into his chicken and ate slowly, his eyes on his plate the entire time. He sipped his wine as he ate, usually downing three or four glasses every night. It was harder for him to get off when he was drunk—which prolonged my pain even more.

I stared at my own knife and seriously considered stabbing myself with it. Who knew how long it would be before I had a chance to escape. What if I never escaped? What if I lived there for the rest of my life? I’d definitely prefer death over that.

I grabbed the knife by the hilt and held it steady, thinking about how it would feel to die. People said it was scary and painful, slipping into the darkness for eternity. But I thought it would be peaceful.

Bones eyed my hand, watching my movements. He still didn’t trust me. Maybe he never would. “What are you—”

An explosion shattered every single window and made the ground beneath our feet shake. The plates and silverware fell onto the ground, and the candle tipped over and caught the table runner on fire.

“What the fuck?” Bones jumped to his feet and reached for his gun in his pocket.

I’d never been in a gunfight before, but I knew what to do. I tipped the table over and used it as a shield to protect myself from the bullets flying across the room. Men shouted and screamed as the war raged on. I didn’t know if it was coming from inside or outside the house. It erupted all around me, swallowing me whole. I placed my hands over my ears because the gunshots were so loud.

More gunfire and screaming erupted. Bones gave his men orders, and another man rounded up his soldiers. Without looking over the table, I knew it would be a bloody battlefield out there.

Please kill Bones.

Please.

“Where the hell is she?” a man shouted.

“You think I know?” another responded.

Were they looking for me?

Was someone here to save me?

Did Jacob contact the authorities, and they kept up on the trail and followed me here? Was I being liberated? Was this the end of my captivity? It was too good to be true.

A man appeared on my side of the table with a pistol in his hand. He had dark brown hair and hazel eyes. His bone structure was prominent and his jaw rigid. Within an instant, I recognized him.

It was him.

“Come on.” He shouted over the gunfire. “Now.”