Red Leather (Book 2)

Chapter 34

Hopefully the walls were soundproof.  

"Get in as quickly as possible," was Eli's only word of advice. I did as I was told.

Aurora waited in the kitchen, her legs crossed in that peculiar way of hers, her back as straight as a ruler and her hair as perfect as ever. Beneath her pleasant face was an underlining of something, and yet I couldn't make out what it was. All I could do was hold my breath and hope for the best.

I hated wishful thinking.

Setting her wine glass down, Aurora spoke. "Did you have a fun time? Certainly looks like you have."

I flushed, but remained poised. "We lost him. But only briefly. I promise I won't take him outside of these walls again."

She kept her eyes on me, her irises dark with malice. "I know. You forget that I gave you that wristband. You don't think I would keep track of the prisoners under my roof?"

The way she phrased her words chilled me to the core. It was almost as if she were suggesting that I was a prisoner also, and that I was the one being watched carefully. I hated it. I hated the feeling that crept over me. "I'm sorry for assuming."

"Good." Her smile was brief, but not at all warm. With a flick of her wrist, she beckoned me. "The keys to your room."

I froze, hesitating. The doors in Aurora's house, I quickly learned, locked themselves. Only a key could unlock them, and the lone key inside my pocket was the only copy I had. What did this all mean? Did she no longer trust me to the extent that she wanted to keep me locked inside her guest room? Suddenly I felt unsafe. I felt watched.

Just how many cameras had she installed into my room?

But I couldn't deny her. As much as it physically hurt to do so, I had to reach into my back pocket and turn the key over. Any other move, and I would be dead. Or worse, handed in to the police.

And just like that, I had put myself right in Aurora's clever little hands. I had given her complete power over me, without even realising it. All this time I thought I was in control, and yet it was her who stood at the top of the pyramid, and her who made the rules.

But I was powerless. I did what I had to do. I schooled my expression to be as politely indifferent as hers, and handed over the tiny key. Her smiled widened. "Clever girl. Wash yourself up, and don't get any more blood on my walls."

Stiffly, I turned around and did as I was told, hating every moment of it. The henchmen dragged Nathan along with me, and unceremoniously dumped him on the bed. I waited patiently for them to depart, to close the doors behind them, to hear the little click of the door.

I grabbed a vase to my right, held it up high with both hands, and smashed it onto the tile floor. An enrage scream tore through my throat, vibrating through me and piercing my ears. The rage was back, bigger and stronger than ever, and this time I wanted to kill. I wanted to maim. I wanted to wound.

And I took it all out on Nathan.

He was out cold when I climbed up on top of him, a shard of glass in hand, but he was definitely awake when I drove the glass into his cheek. I relished the way he struggled against me, the way he shouted himself hoarse and the way he choked under the grip I had around his neck. My vision went red. I saw nothing, yet I saw everything.

Reality became distorted. My surroundings transformed into something not unlike my childhood memories. As I slashed and slashed at his flesh – face and neck and chest and arms – my hands suddenly became someone else's. They became smaller. They became childlike. His screams no longer sounded throaty and human, but unintelligible and shrill.