Chapter 33

Chapter Thirty-Three

Starling

I watch him warily as he comes over again.

He seemed content to arrange and rearrange his tools for the last hour, but now his attention is on me.

"Time for the next phase."

He takes a pair of sharp scissors and begins cutting my yoga pants from my body. I try to struggle, but being cuffed to the bed limits what I can do. Once he has my pants off, he removes my socks and sneakers and then cuts through my panties, leaving me completely exposed.

Oh God, please, no. I whimper and thrash, but he grabs a scalpel and sits between my legs. I freeze when his hand brushes over my scars. He brings the scalpel to my inner thigh and starts cutting.

Not being able to scream is the worst. I feel my whole body start to shake, which brings with it a whole new wave of terror.

"There, perfect. Now for the fun part."

He reaches for the needle and thread.

I shake my head and buck my hips, but he presses his large hand against my stomach and holds me down.

"Stop being dramatic," he scolds me as he brings the needle to the left side of my labia and pierces it.

My eyes fill with tears as I feel the thread being pulled through.

"This is a lesson. Men won't respect you if you don't keep your legs closed. Not that I should expect anything different. Once a whore, always a whore. I?—"

He stops talking and cocks his head like he hears something.

"Looks like our timeline's moved up. We'll save this for another day."

He grabs the key to the handcuffs and unlocks my ankles first, followed by my wrists, but keeps the rope tied around them. "Try anything, and I will use this scalpel to cut off your eyelids." He yanks me to my feet and drags me out of the room and up a few stairs to the deck. "Now sit there and don't move."

I look around for something I can use as a weapon. But I can't see anything, not that it would be much use with my hands still tied. I look over the boat's edge into the dark water and shiver. I promise myself that if I get out of this alive, I'll take swimming lessons.

The sound of whistling grabs my attention as the gas mask guy drops a body on the deck beside me. I can't see their face, but the huge hole in the back of their head tells me they're dead. I watch helplessly as he ties a piece of rope around the dead guy's waist, then secures the other end around my ankle. He hefts the body over the side of the boat and tosses it into the water.

It takes a moment for my leg to be yanked painfully against the metal railing.

"That should stop you from running." He points back to the shore, and a house all lit up in the distance. "Once he realizes it's empty, he'll come this way. And I'll be ready for him. All you have to do is stand there, look pretty, and maybe spread your legs a bit. I want him to see my handiwork."

Jesus, fuck, this can't be happening. Of all the fucked-up ways I dreamt of dying, this was not one of them.

I hear shouting from the shore, and I pray it's not Hudson, even though I know it is. I can always feel him when he's close by.

The masked guy disappears again, but all I can focus on is the house in the distance.

"Starling?"

I whip my head around and find Landon creeping around the side of the boat. A cut on his forehead, blood oozing down his face.

He sees my face and goes pale. "I'm going to get you out of here. Let me just find something to cut the rope with."

He's gone in the next breath, leaving me alone again. My leg aches. I lean down and try to loosen the rope, but I can barely feel my fingers.

At the sound of footsteps, I look up and see Landon running back with a knife in his hand.

"There's a boat getting ready to board. We have to hurry." He bends down and reaches for the rope.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see someone climb over the railing. Hudson. I whimper as Landon looks up at me.

"There, there. The worst is over with for now."

My blood freezes with those words—the exact words the masked man said to me. As Hudson approaches, Landon grins and turns toward him.

"Thank God. I can't get the rope off of her."

But Hudson isn't paying attention to Landon; he's staring at my sewn lips in horror as I shake my head and scream in my mind for him to run.

And he does run, but not away like he should. He runs to me, cupping my face as tears dampen his eyes. "Oh, baby, what did he do to you?"

"I kept her quiet," Landon answers, and shoves the knife into Hudson's back.

Hudson drops to his knees, his eyes wide with shock.

"Bet you didn't see that coming, did you?" Landon kicks him to his back and stares down at him with the bloody knife in his hand. "Do you know what it's like growing up without a father? No, because you got to have yours. And it's not like you died. You left because I wasn't enough. I mean, I blame Mom too. If she'd been a better wife, you would have stayed. I told her that before I chased her down the street and ran her over. You should have heard her begging. It was so fucking delicious."

He looks around before yanking me into his arms, using my body as a shield. "I thought if I could just get you to see me, you'd know I was just like you. I snuck out of the house and followed you around. And that's when I realized you were so much more than just a driver for a wannabe gangster."

Hudson turns his head to look at me, his eyes dark and filled with so much rage. But I don't miss the promise he sends me. He'll get me out of here, even if that means trading his life for mine.

More tears flow down my face as I realize that nothing else matters anymore. Not the lies he told me or the tricks he played to keep me. In this moment, when everything comes down to life and death, I choose him.

I choose the man who came for me. I choose the man who'll tear his son to pieces with his bare hands for touching me.

And I can't even tell him that. I can't tell him that underneath my anger and fear and frustration, I was beginning to fall in love with him.

I'm not stupid. I know he's every bit as bad as I think he is—maybe even worse. But with me, he's so much more than that. He's the forehead-kissing, hand-on-my-back, strap-me-in-and-carry-me-home guy.

He may have blood on his hands, but those same hands fed me chocolate-covered strawberries and wrapped a tablet full of books with a bow. He etched my name into his skin and wears it as a mark of honor.

I don't care if he's a monster, because that monster is mine. And I'll be damned if I let him die here for me.

I tense and wait, tuning back into Landon's villain monologue as I wait for the right moment to make my move. I'm so sick of being the victim. No fucking more.

"Jessica was my acknowledgment of your work. I tracked her down after you killed her husband. I helped finalize his estate, got her relocated to Vegas, before I briefly turned her into my personal slut. Women who have been cheated on always have a lot to prove," he chuckles.

"Killing her was a hat tip, if you will. I wanted to show you I was impressed, but that anything you can do, I can do better."

He sings the last part, the creepy motherfucker.

"The stripper meant nothing. I fucked her because you did, but it wasn't anything special.

"The bullseye was a nice touch. Just me showing you that I knew you were a sniper. She made a good first target. A little tease of what was to come. Having her friend help me was the best part. Offer anyone enough money, and they'll sell out their own grandmother.

"Still, she had to go. Can't have any loose ends, so I got a friend of mine to kill her. You might remember him, Starling. Derek Rivers. Ring any bells?"

I jolt, my eyes wide with shock, making him laugh.

"Poor Starling. I thought you would have figured it out by now. I was Derek's lawyer too. You knew that, though. I'm the one who gave you to him. I identified his body and gave a positive ID, even though it was really a dead gangbanger we'd staged to take his place. It was as easy as forging documents saying he was your biological father." He laughs.

I don't react. I always knew the truth. Call it instinct, but there was a reason I shielded myself from Landon. I trusted him less than Derek. At least Derek fed and clothed me and kept me off the streets.

I was happy to live the lie because that lie didn't try to fuck me and leave me beaten on the pavement.

I just never figured out why. Derek had no interest in me, and I saw Landon only a handful of times since the day he took me from the street. Usually, when he came to visit his mom, where he thankfully ignored me the whole time, and I saw him at the hospital the day she died, once at her funeral, and again the day he helped us move into Hudson's place. I kept my mouth shut about his involvement, not wanting to end up right back where he found me.

"Derek thought I was helping him because he took in Starling. I'm a nice fucking guy, but not that nice. I left little clues that the man was alive, all the cops need to do is follow the trail. After all, I needed someone to take the fall for all this."

He looks down at the rope around my leg and laughs. "Now he's just hanging around, waiting for his moment to shine."

That's who's tied to me? Derek?

I feel like throwing up but manage to keep it down. With my mouth sewn shut, I'd end up choking to death.

A tug on my foot makes me pause, wondering if I'm losing it. For a brief moment, I think it's Derek, but I know he's dead. I saw the mess of his head.

Then I feel it again—two sharp tugs.

Landon said there was a boat. Oh God, it has to be Atlas or Kenzo. I blow out a steadying breath and try to keep calm.

"Kyle and Conner were the ones I knew would get your attention. I kept a list of all the people you've known over the years and searched for the perfect in. And they were perfect. One was getting a divorce; the other had filed harassment charges against a former officer. I offered to work for them both pro bono."

"You're a fucking idiot. All this just to get my attention?" Hudson rasps.

"Now that's not nice. I haven't even told you the best part yet." He lifts the knife and drags it down my face, making me freeze. "It's through the twins that I first saw Starling. They went to a community center to see some shrink, and that's when I saw her. She was so tiny, so breakable, and arguably more fucked-up than all of us.

"I planned to take her and keep her for myself, so I followed her. Imagine my surprise when I found her selling her pussy on a street corner."

I close my eyes as humiliation threatens to choke me. I can't look at Hudson, not now that my shame is being shared with the world.

"She intrigued me even more. But I wasn't going to touch her anymore. I didn't want to catch anything. But I knew she'd be useful, so I dug into her tragic little life.

"Did she tell you about her uncle? How he had a thing for little girls, so he used to fuck her and share her with his friends? Then, when she got too old for him, he became her pimp and tossed her out onto the streets to earn a paycheck on her back—or knees. He wasn't picky."

"Here, hold this for a moment."

He drives the knife into my shoulder before pulling a gun from behind his back and presses it to my temple. The searing pain that threatens to drop me to my knees drowns Hudson's roar of anguish.

"She was fifteen," he continues, like he didn't just fucking stab me. "She reminded me of the photos of Mom back in the day. A part of me just knew you'd want her. Like her uncle, you have a type. Young, weak, and pathetic."

A glimpse of movement catches my eye at the side of the boat. There's something—or someone—there.

"Your uncle sold you to me for a steal, Starling. I returned the favor by making him bleed. By that time, I'd already convinced Derek to pretend to be your father because he fucking owed me. And then I introduced him to my mother at a fundraiser. And the rest is history."

"And what was your endgame supposed to be? You're just going to kill me. Why go through all the trouble?"

"Kill you? I'm not going to kill you. I want to be just like you. I want us to be a team. You and me. Father and son."

"And Abbot? How does he play into all this?"

"That faggot? He nearly took Starling from you. That wasn't supposed to happen. He figured things out too quickly and was going to tell you, but I couldn't let him. So I tied him up and left him at the beach house while I waited for you to figure out the clues I left. When you called, I knew it was time. I cut the brakes on his car and rammed him off the road. You don't need him anyway. You have me. You never wanted him. We all knew that."

The light reflects off something metal, and I realize it's a gun. The movement I see is a man with a gun.

"Abbot didn't die, Landon," Hudson tells him, the growing pool of blood around him making me feel lightheaded. There's too much. Landon must have hit something vital when he stabbed him.

Landon growls, "That's an easy fix."

"What about Starling? Hasn't she been through enough? Let her go, and it can be just you and me like you want."

"I can't. She knows too much now. Besides, I need you to know what it feels like to have your whole world taken from you. You need to feel that pain, Dad, so you don't try to leave me again."

"If you hurt her, I'll kill you."

"You'll be mad, but you'll get over her. She's just a dumb whore."

"I'll leave, and you'll never see me again."

"No." Landon swings the gun toward Hudson.

I won't get another chance. I swing my arm back and elbow Landon in the stomach as I try to twist away from him.

Bullets fire, the sound deafening as Hudson pulls his gun and Atlas steps out from the shadows. I feel Landon jerk and fall, and I breathe a sigh of relief. But then I'm falling too, over the railing and into the water, to the sound of Hudson's panicked voice yelling.

"She can't swim. Atlas, she can't fucking?—"

The sound of his voice cuts off as I sink beneath the cold water. My bound hands make everything ten times harder. I kick and try to get back to the surface, but the rope is still around my ankle, pulling me down farther and farther.

This is it. I'm going to die.

But Hudson won't. And if there's ever a blessing to come from this, it's that. I stop fighting and let go.

That's when a set of arms wrap around my body and yank me close to them. I don't fight them. I just let them drag me up through the icy water to the surface. Then there are hands grabbing me and pulling me into a small boat. When I open my eyes, Atlas is looking down at me, smoothing the hair from my face.

Kenzo appears over me seconds later, his wet hair dripping in my face. "Sorry, kitten, I need to borrow this." He yanks the knife from my shoulder, making Atlas curse as I choke back tears. Then the weight of the rope is gone, and I'm in Kenzo's lap as he rocks me gently.

"I know this is a lot, but we've gotta move fast. Hudson's bleeding out. I need to get you both to the hospital. You understand?"

I nod.

"Good girl. Everything's going to be okay now. We've got you."

I nod again and pass out.