Page 162 of Rest In Knotty Pieces

He does, but it’s all for show.

“Father,” I say with barely hidden revulsion. If he has a name, I’ve never been given it. The title of Father, which has become his nickname with the press, is a whole part of the power game. I give him authority over me every time I call him that. But if you refuse, you get punished. It’s always good girl, bad girl. Father says. He likes to make me hurt. He loves to hear me scream.

It’s a sick game, but I know him so well that every minute movement of even a finger will be an indication of how he’s feeling.

How long will we be screaming today?

I feel like I’m a million miles away, watching the scene from eyes that are outside the body.

This was not part of the plan, and I’m scared. I’m not showing it, but I am.

A sliver of light illuminates the edge of that bird skull mask. It truly is a nightmare visage, but I’ve never seen his face. Just the bird skeleton and those empty sockets. Is he a real person? Or a demon? I don’t know.

“Where are they?” he snarls and punches me hard in the stomach.

I choke, gasping and writhing in the chains. With what little I can, I breathe deeply, trying to prepare myself, but is there ever any way to prepare myself? This is going to be bad.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The room gets still.

Brittle.

He doesn’t lunge, he walks towards me calmly, strong, capable. His forearms are massive. Strong from all the killing he does.

“Beg for me, Merelee.”

I shake my head.

“Ah, well, you will eventually. I always get what I want.”

He grabs one of my wrists and spins me around, unlocking the cuff and shoving my hand into the manacle on the wall.

Fuck.

“Where are they?”

I press my lips together, refusing to tell him. They’ll be long gone. He won’t find the Sandersons, the Princes; he will not find my Pix or my pack. As soon as it gets to eight hours, Rose will make sure everyone is safe.

I start to laugh, it’s born of hysteria, but he just clicks his tongue as if he finds me annoying.

My other hand is slammed against the wall. He grinds the delicate bones until all I can think about is the pain.

He smells like disinfectant with a hint of lime.

It should be a pleasant smell, but it makes me sick.

“It’s going to hurt. For every moment you have defied me, I’m going to make you pay.”

I grit my teeth together and stare at my hand that’s held to the wall above my head. The cold metal chills me from the outside in, turning my front to ice. What would it have been like to have held a bond? To have had Rose hold me through an entire night. To wake up with him in the morning, the sunlight on his cheek. He would look so beautiful in the sun.

Would he ever have given me one?

What would it be like to be free?

I’m sorry, Rose.

“Last chance, Merelee.”