Chapter 12
Hailey's POV:
Anger built inside me. I wanted to slap him across the face for addressing me like I was a thing. But, I had to suppress it and find out more. "Is he—" I feared that asking him might anger him the more, but I had to ask anyway. "Is he . . . alive?"
"For now," Justin said, his eyes warning me, "He's in the hospital with a mild concussion."
I was so relieved I slumped against the wall. And then the full meaning of his words hits me. "What do you mean, for now?"
Mr. High and Mighty shrugged. "The survival of Justin is dependent on you."
I swallowed the lump forming on my now dry throat. "What do you mean by dependent on me?" I asked fearlessly.
His fingers trailed my face again, pushed the hair back behind my ear.
I so wanted to punch this man in his stomach. At least inflict some pain that he would never forget in a hurry. So help me, God. Because I didn't think I would be able to hold it together for long.
"Yes, toy, on you. If you behave, he'll be fine. If not . . ."
I could barely draw in a breath. "If not?"
Mr. High and Mighty smiled. "He'll be dead."
His smile was the most beautiful and frightening thing I had ever seen.
"Who are you? What is your name?" I whispered. "What do you want from me?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he touched my hair, lifted a thick lock to his nose and inhaled deeply.
I watched him, frozen in place. I didn't know what to do. Do I put up a fight? If I do, wouldn't that be endangering Justin? Would I even stand a chance against him considering how big he was? I didn't want to provoke him. He was much stronger and larger than me. I could see his thick muscles under the white T-shirt he was wearing. Without heels, this man was towering over me, and I didn't even come close to his shoulders in height.
"My name is, Brandon. Nicholas. Marshall," he spelt out, jolting my attention back to him.
About! It was a confirmation of the fact that it was true, that prick that had threatened me. Was this his way of taking his revenge? And, oh my God! Was it merely coincidental, or, was it still the same person who sent those goons to the house saying that I had been bought?
While I fought with my dilemma, he reached for the blanket and dragged it while I held on to it tightly. He was big, but, big didn't determine strength. I clutched more aggressively to the blanket and glared at him. At this moment, I was so proud of myself. Despite the situation, I was showing bravery.
"Fucking let go off me, you pervert," I cursed, "You are disgusting for a man."
Surprisingly, instead of getting angry, he smiled like I said something funny. "You are still running that pretty little mouth of yours," he said and continued pulling at the blanket, slowly and with ease. I knew that he was doing this deliberately, that way to prolong the torture. He could have easily ripped the blanket away from me with one strong tug.
"I don't want this," I yelled at him. I could barely draw in air into my contracting lungs, and my voice came out sounding unexpectedly shaky.
He looked amused, but there was a dark twinkle in his eyes. "I thought you weren't afraid. But it seems you are, after all," he said, and then broke into a brief laugh.
I shook my head. "I am not afraid of you. I am not afraid of men like you who bully innocent and weak people." My voice was thick, and I suppressed the tears that threatened to leave my eyes. Crying in front of him would only give him the satisfaction that he was looking for. "I only want Justin —"
Instantly, his hand was wrapped around my throat. He squeezed, cutting off my air supply.
I started clawing at him, but he continues to squeeze. My head was filled with blood and I felt my lungs rupturing. I could see the violence in his eyes.
Leaning down to me, "never mention that boy," he said harshly. "You are mine. Mine to do as I wish with. Do you understand me?"
I nodded vigorously, too scared to do anything else.
He released my throat. "Good," he said in a mild tone. He was a contradiction. How can a man who just squeezed the life out of me maintain such a pose like nothing happened?
I landed on the floor, gasping desperately to get as much air into my lungs as possible. Inhaling through my nose and mouth at once.
"Now let go of the blanket. I want to see you naked." He stated.
I glued myself closer to the wall. And still wrapped the blanket around me more tightly than before.
He sighed. With strength, he dragged me up by painfully twisting the locks of my hair into a knot. A little drag with more force and the blanket slipped to the floor. I didn't stand a chance to struggle with him at all when he puts in a little power.
I was naked in front of a man who had no respect or whatsoever for me. I felt exposed and worthless. Finally, the tears I have been holding back began to fall endlessly. I couldn't bear one more glance from him on my naked body so, I slid down the wall until I was
My arms wrapped around my legs, and I sat there like that, trembling all over. My long, thick hair cascaded down my back and arms, partially covering me. I hid my face against my knees. I was terrified of his next action, and it made me sob harder.
"Hailey," he said, and there was a harsh note in his voice. "Get up. Get up immediately. And clean those tears."
"Hailey, what did I tell you about repeating myself? Don't force me to sink that into your head the rough way."
What more could be rough than what he had done to me? My entire body was shaking with sobs at this point.
"Hailey," he said again, and I heard the fury in his voice. "You have exactly less than three seconds to do what you have been told to do."
He waited, and I believed he was counting in his head.
I was counting too, and when I noticed that this could get a lot worse, I got up, tears still streaming down my face. I was ashamed that I couldn't put up a fight to stop him, but I was so afraid of what he could have done to me. I didn't want him to hurt me. I didn't want him to touch him, but, who was I to say what I wanted and what I didn't want?
"Better," he said softly, touching my face again, brushing my hair back over my shoulders.
I quaked like a leaf at his touch. I couldn't look at him, so I kept my eyes down.
He apparently agreed to that because he inhaled my scent once more, which made me more afraid. Why was he sniffing me? Was he some kind of werewolf?
As I looked at him from the corner of my eyes, his eyes were dark and filled with mischief.
"Learn to mind what you say if you want to survive here. Disobey or make me repeat myself, you might not like the consequences. You are my toy, and I do as I wish with you."
Hearing that, I suddenly became cold. He reached for my face and cupped it. "Your fate is now in my hands," he said, a smile curving at the end of his lips.
At that moment, I wished so much for the ground to open up and swallow me. How was I going to get through this? What did this man want from me? At that moment, I knew that I should never have crossed his path because this was just the beginning of what was to come.