Page 20 of Cruel Proposal
Men flood the room and take the weapons out the second I give the signal.
Once the weapons are gone from the room, I toss the key at her feet.
She can unlock herself and have fun with the dead body.
I pause in the doorway, turning to look at her one last time. "I think you're going to spend some time in here. Think about what you want your life to look like if I ever decide to let you out."
Though I have bigger plans for her, she doesn't know that.
She screams on the other side of the door, cursing me for all I'm worth.
The scent of her arousal and the memory of her little noises stick with me, but I am stronger than my urges. I have to be.
She is one of them. She can rot in there until I'm ready to deal with her. It's only going to make things worse with the Lynde family, but I don't give a shit.
This bullshit with them has been going on for far too long, and if driving their family into the ground one by one is finally going to get me the revenge that's owed to me, then that's what I'm going to do.
No matter how long it takes.
Even if I can't trust those around me anymore.
Chapter Seven
SUMMER
How long doesit take for a body to start smelling?
It's a horrible thought, and one that shouldn't be at the forefront of my mind right now, but Emilio's body is only three feet from me.
He's bruised and beaten, dried blood covering his skin. He's slumped over in the chair, head tilted to the side, neck slit. He lost control of his bodily functions, and the scent is already getting to me. I can't even imagine how much worse it will get when the decomposition stage begins in earnest.
And then there's the matter of the vomit in the corner.
I stopped keeping track of how many times I threw up after I was alone and finally had time to focus on Emilio.
His poor family.
I hold my breath and do another lap around the cell, hoping that Noah is going to come and get me out of here soon. He can't keep leaving me here with nothing but a bucket and a roll of toilet paper.
Tears would be burning in my eyes right now if I weren't so dehydrated.
The door to the cell opens, and for a moment, I think it might be the guy who comes in here to empty the bucket.
Instead, it's three men I've never seen before.
They don't say a word as they step to the side.
One motions for me to come with them.
I do so without a word, my stomach growling loudly. I follow them through the house and back up to the room I had before.
After I'm inside, the lock turns, letting me know that I'm still a prisoner; I'm just not being mentally tortured anymore.
Letting out a shaky breath, I head straight for the shower. I don't feel strong enough to keep myself standing, but I smell like death and shit. And sweat. And vomit. And more death.
I step beneath the hot spray of the shower, scrubbing my skin raw, coating it in soap, and then doing it all over again.
The second I close my eyes, Emilio's swollen face is in my mind. He's staring at me like he thinks I should've saved him.
