Grievous (Scarlet Scars #2)(71)

My eyes widen, and I struggle against his grip, reaching up and grabbing his hands, trying to pry them away as I scream into his palm.

“Shhh, none of that,” he says. “You have to be a good girl, like you showed me you can be, and when it is all over, I will answer your question about what I did with our daughter.”

He gives me time to calm down before letting go and standing back up. He offers me his hand then, extending it toward me. For a moment, I hesitate, just staring at it, before carefully reaching out, letting him pull me to my feet. My legs are weak, my knees nearly buckling. I look down, as he tightly grips my hand, seeing the bruises covering me—some old, some new, a kaleidoscope of purple and yellow, black and blue with subtle green hues, a splattering of blood like dark red paint.

I’m a fucked up rainbow.

I don’t fight it. I don’t fight him as he hooks up the hose and washes me. I don’t make a peep, even when it stings, even when it burns, even when his hands are rough against a bruise or he gets soap in a scrape. The water is ice cold, and my teeth chatter, but I otherwise remain still, letting him do what he’s going to do, the thought of getting out of this basement too tempting to ruin.

He wraps me in a towel once I’m clean, pushing me toward the metal chair, forcing me down into it. His hands are on my shoulders as he leans down to whisper, “Do not move from this chair.”

Kassian leaves the basement.

It would be a lie to say I don’t consider trying to run, but running, in my current state, is sort of out of the question. I could do it, sure, but I wouldn’t make it far, maybe not even to the top of the stairs this time before I got caught. So I sit still, doing exactly what he told me to do, until the basement door opens again.

It’s not him, though.

It’s Alexis.

She descends the stairs slowly, carrying a small black bag, setting it down beside me. “He, uh… he told me to help you get ready?”

She poses it like a question, like maybe she doesn’t really understand any of this, either. My gaze flickers to the bag, and I reach down, unzipping it to sort through the contents—hairbrush, makeup, clothing. I pull out the skimpy fabric, eyeing the see-through black lingerie, the lacy garter belt and thigh-highs to go along with it. I don’t even have to look back into the bag to know there will be a pair of red six-inch heels to go with the outfit, and somewhere, mixed in among the makeup will be a tube of bright red lipstick.

He has a type, remember?

I ignore her, getting dressed on my own, lifting up just enough to slip the lingerie on. The brush keeps getting tangled in my hair, so I yank it, pulling out knots without any care. There isn’t much I can do with it myself, since I don’t have a mirror, so I don’t object when Alexis jumps in and takes over. She does what she can… what that is, I don’t know. Doesn’t really matter, either. Kassian’s hands will end up all through it later, gripping handfuls.

Whether he’ll be doing it out of pleasure or anger is anyone’s guess at the moment.

Alexis kneels in front of me, pulling out the makeup, going to work as she slathers foundation all over my face. Eye shadow, eyeliner, mascara—all black, just the way Kassian likes it. When that is finished, she grabs the red lipstick, but I snatch it from her hand, shaking my head as I throw it across the room.

I’m not wearing it for him.

She frowns, not moving from her kneeling position. “Where is he taking you? Do you know?”

“Home,” I whisper.

The word sounds wrong. So wrong.

That place isn’t my home.

Never has been, never will be.

Her eyes widen, panic flickering across her face. “He’s taking you to the party?”

“He says it’s for me,” I say. “My own little homecoming parade before the big game.”

“Oh God,” she whispers, her eyes darting all around. “No, no, no… ugh, this isn’t how it’s supposed to happen.”

My brow furrows. “What?”

“You’re supposed to be here,” she says. “This is where he’s coming. This is where he thinks he’ll find you.”

“Who?”

“Scar.”

The word is a hiss from her lips, like a curse springing from the tip of her tongue. Scar. My chest tightens at the sound of it. “Lorenzo?”

Before she can respond, I hear others coming. Alexis panics, springing to her feet and taking an immediate step back, smoothing her hands on the fishnets covering her legs.

Kassian makes his way down into the basement, followed by a few of his guys. My heart hammers hard as he approaches, the guys stopping near the exit, blocking it. Back up. He might be letting me leave this basement, but that certainly doesn’t mean he’s going to be putting any trust in me.

“Suka,” he says, stopping in front of the chair, nudging my chin to force me to look up at him. “You are still sitting there.”

“You told me not to move,” I point out.

He whispers, “good girl,” as his gaze travels my face. His thumb sweeps across my dry lips, his expression tightening as he looks around the basement, eventually finding the lipstick before turning back to me. “You do not want to wear it?”

“Wear what?”

A smile flickers across his lips.

Strolling across the basement, he retrieves the tube of lipstick before returning. He’s not going to let it go. Figures. He carefully puts it on me, and I play along, because I’m running out of options at the moment. Really, what other choice do I have here?