Pure Vengeance

Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Apocalypse

Hannah

Hannah heaved in a breath, her eyes flickering open only to close again. Her lids were heavy, unusually so, although she couldn’t remember why. She hadn’t had that much to drink last night, had she?

No. The thought was emphatic in the haze of her blurred senses. I only had one glass of wine, remember?

The thought echoed in her head, forcing her to recall the events of the night before. She’d gone to the restaurant to meet Saul, and the bastard hadn’t shown. She’d been on the phone to Shannon, hadn’t she, ordering an Uber to take her home? She could recollect those moments, the glumness that had resounded in her chest at Saul’s rejection and how she’d resisted Shannon’s offer to come and take her home. She’d been crestfallen, sure, but not drunk. So why was her head so unwilling to cooperate?

“There she is.” A male voice floated from somewhere overhead, interrupting her confusion. “My Sleeping Beauty.”

She froze.

His Sleeping Beauty?

His?

Hannah wasn’t anyone’s. That’s what her alleged date with Saul had been about—taking her first tentative steps out into the world of men since her awful abduction—but she was light years away from being ready for a commitment.

“Who are you?” She forced the words out, but her voice sounded distorted and strange.

Inwardly, she compelled her eyes to open, but this time, they refused to obey. She longed to go back to sleep, to forget whatever foggy drama was transpiring and just rest, but the dread furling in the pit of her belly warned her not to.

Something was wrong.

Instinctively, she knew it.

She’d lived it before.

“Who am I ?” His tone was wry. “That’s rather insulting, Miss Bowman.”

Tension stiffened her muscles at the way he knew her name.

‘Miss Bowman.’

She knew that voice, didn’t she? Anxiety strained at her chest, making it difficult to breathe.

“Given everything we’ve been through together, I would have expected you to know me.”

As though he’d ordered them to open, her eyes fluttered at his retort, though as she blinked around the gloomy room, she was struggling to focus. Unhindered by her pupils, panic exploded in her mind, sending adrenaline flooding her system.

He said we’d been through something. What does that mean?

Terror knotted in her tummy as she realized who could be looming over her, but still, she rebuffed it.

It couldn’t be. It wasn’t him.

This isn’t happening.

“It’s okay.” His voice was softer that time. “You’re okay. It’s only the sedative wearing off. Be a good girl, and look at me.”

Nausea simmered in her stomach as she turned her head and acknowledged him. Whoever he was, he seemed huge, towering over her, but she couldn’t persuade her head to lift and take in his features.

“My face, little girl.” He chuckled, as if her confusion was amusing.

Hang on. Her mind was battling to keep up. Did he say sedative? Why was I sedated?

The cold chill of trepidation she thought she’d left behind her traveled up the length of her body. She’d been drugged. It was happening all over again!

“Oh God.”

She wasn’t sure if the words actually escaped her lips, but they ricocheted around her brain like an alarm. Oh God, Oh God, Oh God!

She watched in silent horror as one of his hands neared her chin and gently maneuvered it in the direction he wanted, and for the first time, she realized she couldn’t move her hands properly. She tried, naturally, insisting her wrist rise to counter him, but however hard she fought, her arms wouldn’t seem to respond.

“Here.” He took a step forward, the position of her head now providing the perfect angle for their gazes to lock. “That’s better.”

As she finally laid eyes on the man who sounded so cool and in control, she was certain time had stopped altogether.

“Lawes.” Yet again, she didn’t know if she really spoke or if the word only boomed in her mind, but staring at him, it hardly mattered.

The monster from her nightmares—from her history—was back.

Another hallucination. The conclusion soothed her, even if she didn’t truly believe it. It’s like last time. This isn’t real.

But what if last time had been real, and she’d only dismissed it as a trick of her mind? What if Lawes had been there, and her friends just hadn’t noticed him? Freezing dismay rose to her throat, tightening her airway.

What if he’d been there all along, lurking in the dark and biding his time?

“How quickly you’ve forgotten the rules.” His gaze narrowed, as if disappointed, and despite her better judgment, she felt her fright escalate at his obvious disapproval. “That’s not how you address me, Hannah, and you know it.”

“I…” She blinked at him, trying frantically to make sense of what was happening.

Lawes, the man who’d ensnared her and kept her and others locked in cages in the basement of his pseudo-dental practice, was there with her. Seemingly, he’d sedated her and had her trapped.

God, help me…

“How do you refer to me?” He tapped his foot with impatience, the rhythm audible, even though she couldn’t see the deed.

“Sir.” She pushed out the word as if dazed. Her senses confirmed it was him—the same dazzling green eyes she’d been conditioned to fear and worship and the same mop of light brown hair, although perhaps he was grayer than she remembered. “How are you here?”

“Close.” His lips tugged into a smile. “It’s Mr. Lawes, sir, little girl, but I’ll offer you one reprieve since I know you’re not fully conscious yet.”

Little girl.

A thousand shards of memories fell like spiked glass around her. That’s what he used to call her when he’d kept her chained and on her knees. His little girl.

“What’s happening?” Pain cramped in her belly, commanding her to double over, yet her body seemed unable to react the way it craved. She was strapped down to a chair of some sort, but so far, her senses hadn’t offered her any further insight into why, how, or where she was. Her brow furrowed as the hurt amplified, her eyes falling closed. “I feel sick.”

“You’re okay.” The waver in his voice might have concerned her more had the pain in her tummy not been so consuming. “It’s another byproduct of the sedative, that’s all.” What felt like a huge palm rested softly on her forehead, as if judging her temperature.

She wanted to curl up and cry, but whatever contraption he was using to hold her made that impossible. Her arms felt secured to something on either side of her, and the more she roused, the more she was aware that her legs seemed to be tethered, too.

“What do you want?” She loathed her piteous tone.

That was Lawes’ power. He could always reduce her to an imploring and pathetic version of herself, and she hated him for it.

“What do I want?” He almost laughed. “What I want right now is for you to address me correctly. Last chance, Hannah.”

“What do you want, Mr. Lawes, sir?” Her toes curled as she was required to cede, the act reminding her that where expensive stockings had once been, her legs and feet were now bare.

“Better.” His tone was hard. “Now we can talk about what I want.”

As if I don’t know…

Predators like Lawes only ever wanted one thing.

Control.

“Although I would have thought it was obvious.” His gaze traveled over her body, his grin growing as he took in the sight of her. “Despite everything, I have missed you.”

Despite everything? Was he mad?

Lawes was acting as if he was the victim in their crazy dynamic, as though he’d been hard done by, whereas the truth couldn’t be further from that reality. He’d captured her, he’d kept her and done terrible things to her, and as far as she knew, he’d been flung in prison for his crimes.

“Please tell me.” Her head was starting to ache, the pounding growing in intensity as his fingers skimmed over her blouse. “I don’t know why, Mr. Lawes, sir.”

The obedience he demanded rang around her head, taunting her. All of those months of therapy, all the talking, crying, and journaling had been for nothing because from out of the depths he’d crawled, determined to have his wicked way with her.

Overawed at the rising turmoil of frustrated feelings, she squeezed her eyes shut as the first tears escaped. She was determined to ignore her show of emotion. If this was really happening—if she wasn’t about to wake up in the safety of her own bed at any moment, and a desperate part of her still hoped she would—then the last thing she wanted to do was to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he’d torn at her healing soul.

“Don’t upset yourself.” His fingertips brushed over her midriff on their way to her forearm. “There’ll be plenty of time for that later.”

“I don’t understand.” Disregarding his thinly veiled threat, she pulled in a shaky breath and willed the pounding in her head to cease. “If this is really happening, then why am I here, sir?”

She was perturbed by how easily the ‘s’ word fell from her mouth. She’d learned to resent the term, to associate its required deference with the pain and captivity she’d faced in his and Fuller’s bleak basement, but sitting in whatever hellhole he’d conjured for her, the honorific was effortless.

A line appeared on her brow as she considered her predicament. She didn’t know where she was or even if this was real or only happening in her head. For all she knew, Fuller might be lurking in the shadows as well.

“Oh, this is really happening, little girl.” His hand rose to her face, and even though she turned away from his approach, his long fingers insisted she remain as she was and acknowledge them. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment.”

That didn’t sound good…

“Why, sir?” Resisting the urge to rest against his enormous palm, she met his mocking gaze. “Why are you doing this?”

One dark eyebrow arched at her question, reminding her of her omission.

Of course. He’s going to make me say it again.

Her hands balled into fists at her sides. Apparently, however he’d managed to restrain her arms still permitted her fingers to move freely, and the tiny act of rebellion emboldened her as he imposed his will.

“Mr. Lawes, sir.” Her voice was passive that time, conveying less of the conflicted emotion whipping around her body.

The same old feelings were there. The sense of fear and powerlessness mingled with outrage at his audacious treatment, but she knew the monster pulling the strings well enough to know how to placate him. If she was going to get out of this, she’d need to play his game.

“Why am I here?” The room around him was clearer as she asked, as though the initial fog of bewilderment had lifted. Glancing around as far as his hand allowed, she could see they were in a large room, although the lack of furniture and large boxes implied the place was largely abandoned.

“There’s nothing honorable about my plan, I’m afraid.” His lips tugged upward as his hand slid down to her nape. “It’s just good old-fashioned revenge, little girl.”

Revenge.

The word seared into her subconscious like fire.

“You hurt me, so I’m hurting you back.” He shrugged at the apparent simplicity of his plan. Obviously, he’d forgotten that he’d hurt her first…

“Are you g-going to harm me?”

The question slipped out before she even had time to contemplate whether it was a good idea, and as his smile stretched wider, she admonished herself for speaking. Why give him such an advantage when he already held all the cards?

She knew better than this. Plus, he’d only just assured her that his plan was to hurt her.

Withdrawing his hand, he edged toward her, and as his trousers skimmed her right arm, she was suddenly cognizant of being tipped slightly backward. Sitting definitely, but angled in an unusual way… a position that reminded her of the most terrifying experiences she’d known until the day she met Lawes and Fuller.

Being in the dentist’s chair.