There would be no escape. Not even if he was a magician with every spell in the world.
My mind raced with ideas on how to get free, but so far…I had nothing. Blank. Zero. Zilch.
“I shot him. He died on the rug at my feet. He’s meant to be dead.” Cut’s face turned red.
I flinched but held his gaze. “Just let us go. No one else has to get hurt.”
His eyes narrowed. “No one else? You say it like someone just got hurt, Nila. Was it Daniel?” He soared forward, his fingers biting into my cheeks. “Where is he?”
Survival kicked in. I’d never been a good liar.
“No idea.” Keeping my chin high, I aimed to be honest but obtuse. Forthcoming but mysterious. “Why would I know where your despicable son is?”
“It seemed you knew where my oldest was, even while living under my roof.” His face etched with fury. “You ate my food, slept in my rooms, and lied to my fucking face.”
“No, I didn’t.”
Cut laughed coldly. “Don’t be a bitch. You knew. All along, you knew.”
“I didn’t!” I swallowed back my shout. “I thought he was dead. Same as you.” Granting him a smidgen of truth, I added, “I only found out a few hours before you put me on the plane.”
Cut glared. “How? How did you find out?”
What could it hurt? Jethro was here. Whatever plans he had, they wouldn’t come to fruition. “He told me himself. He came to get me.”
Cut’s mouth fell open, a surprised cough falling free. “You’re telling me he willingly came back to Hawksridge, had you to himself for however long, and then left you again?” His eyes glowed. “Wait, that’s where you were when Daniel found you outside your quarters.”
I didn’t respond. He already guessed with conviction. “What a fucking idiot.” He shook his head. More shadows darkened his soul.
Shoving aside the new knowledge, he said, “Speaking of Daniel. Let’s get back to what’s important. Jethro is alive. I’ll need more information on that. But for now, Daniel is more pressing.” His eyebrows knitted together. “You were the last one with him. What did you do?”
“Me?” I scoffed. “How could I win against Daniel? I wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“Did he rape you?”
Blood flowing over my needle.
Oxygen leaving a corpse.
Lions chewing on flesh.
“Yes.”
He tried.
“You’re lying.”
“No.”
He paced around me, standing behind my chair so I couldn’t study his face. “I find that very hard to believe.”
I sat taller in my imprisoning seat. “Why?”
Cut’s voice licked over my nape, stroking my dust-blanketed hair. “You’re bruised and bleeding, but I don’t know if that’s from the car crash or my son. You’re hurting but not broken. Not exactly encouraging if Daniel had his fill of you.” He sneered, “I think you’re lying because you’re still alive.” His fingertips glided down my throat to my breasts. “You can walk. Talk. Answer back. I know my son, Ms. Weaver, and if he’d taken you the way he planned, you wouldn’t be sitting there with rebellion in your eyes.” His hands fisted my hair, jerking painfully. “You’d be in fucking pieces.”
Shit.
Tears pricked as he moved to stand in front of me again. His hands on his hips, he towered like judge, jury, and executioner. “You’re lying to me.”
“No.” I fought my shivers. “I’m not.”
Cut bowed, his face to my face. “Tell me the truth. Now.”
“I am telling you the truth.”
His eyes blackened. “One last time. One more chance and then you’ll get a painful reward for each lie.”
My heart flung itself against ribs. “I’m telling you the truth. Daniel took what he wanted.”
“Implausible.” His hand curled. “There is no proof and my son is suddenly missing.”
Lie better.
Fight smarter.
Taking a deep breath, I snapped, “I didn’t say he took what he originally wanted.”
Cut froze. “What do you mean?”
Please, let him believe my lies.
“After you left, he—he changed his mind.”
Cut raised his fist. “I don’t believe you—”
“Wait!” I tucked my chin, tensing against his strike. “The drug-liquor you gave me. He’d had it, too. He said he thought he wanted me to fight and struggle, but then he decided he’d rather I participated.”
Cut paused, never dropping his fists. “Go on.”
Words tumbled in a rush, tangling with bullshit and storybooks. “I kissed him and said I would willingly submit. That I wanted him because of what you’d given me. That I found him so sexy and I wanted him so, so much.”
Filth.
Trash.
Scum.
“He didn’t need to hurt me. I participated. I happily gave him pleasure because I earned pleasure in return.”
Soap.
I desperately wanted soap to wash my mouth.
Silence fell, cloying and sticking to the cave walls. I hoped my lie wasn’t so farfetched to believe. The past few months at Hawksridge gave no hint to who Daniel truly was. He was awful, but I did understand what it would be like to be rejected from birth, told you were unwanted, stripped from human connection. Love. He’d never had unconditional love.