32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

L ayla hadn't meant to fall asleep after Jackson had left the room, but she must have because the next thing she saw was Jackson walking back into the room with blood all over his body.

Or maybe she was still dreaming. Her eyelids felt too heavy, and she was still drained after their activities last night. Heat spread through her body when she remembered what Jackson had done to her. What she had done to Jackson.

She covered her face and groaned.

"Get a grip, Layla," she scolded herself.

Last night had been an unending wave of pleasure. She'd been desperate for Jackson—his touch, his kiss. She wasn't a prude, but she would never have had sex outside if she'd been in her right mind. And she would never have allowed him to do any of the things he had done once he'd brought her to his room. Everything had been so desperate, and part of her felt like she would die if she didn't have him.

She had to avoid Diedre and her drug shots from now on. She was on a roller coaster with her emotions—terrified one second and overwhelmingly horny the next. It wasn't right. Once she got away from Jackson, she didn't want to be already pregnant and have another mouth to feed after nine months.

She stretched and felt the soreness in her body before she heard the sound of running water. So Jackson was back; she hadn't been dreaming. Would he now keep her locked up in the bedroom after her escape attempt? If that—

She sat up in bed with a jolt, and her eyes widened as she looked at the bathroom door.

If she hadn't been dreaming, she had really seen Jackson walk into the bathroom half-naked and bloody. Her heart started to pound as if that was now its default setting.

She had imagined all sorts of horrors in this strange place in the middle of nowhere, and killing people had been one of them. But to see the evidence of it?

How was she supposed to process all this? How was she supposed to stay there any longer and leave a baby there?

Quickly, she pushed the covers off her body and slipped out of the large bed. She hadn't had much chance to look around in the frenzy during the night, but Jackson's room was huge. It was easily double the size of the one he had locked her in. I seemed to run the whole width of the house and had large, picturesque windows and a skylight to let the natural light in. She saw a balcony on the other end through the floor-to-ceiling glass walls.

She didn't think she could escape from there because they were on the top floor. And she certainly couldn't do it naked. Her dress was near the door, right where Jackson had thrown it after he had ripped it off her body.

The bathroom door opened quickly before she could figure out what to wear. Jackson stepped out, still dripping wet, with a towel wrapped around his hips. His chest was magnificent, and her tongue ached to trace the intricate designs of his tattoos. Maybe to lick that water off his body. Everything underneath the towel was clearly outlined under the cotton, bringing back images of how he had used it last night.

Shit. She was doing it again.

She turned away and grabbed the sheet from the bed to cover her body and calm herself.

Her mind had already jumped from fear to lust, and that was terrifying. It wasn't normal. It was almost like there was no in-between—the drug made her want Jackson no matter what.

"Is everything okay?"

Her throat felt too dry, so she just nodded as she tucked in the sheet like a towel.

"I thought you'd be too tired to be out of bed for a while longer," Jackson said.

He sounded closer. Tension rose through her body as she prayed he couldn't touch her again.

"I'm fine," she lied. Her voice sounded pitchy and hoarse. From all the screaming she had done last night or the fear, she couldn't tell.

"I didn't mean to be so... Last night was a lot. You should stay in bed today. I'll have all your food brought up."

She turned around quickly and wasn't shocked to see he was only a few feet away from her.

"Are you going to lock me in?" she asked quickly.

There was no time to waste. She would make a better escape plan if allowed to walk around.

Jackson's gaze wandered down her body before it met hers.

"There are things going on right now that I need to take care of. I can't let you walk around by yourself," he said.

"So you're going back on your word?"

"You went back on your word first, Layla. You ran from me," Jackson said in a low, calm voice.

But she could sense something in him that was anything but calm. She took a step back, remembering how he had looked when he had come back in. The air around her sizzled with danger like she was caged in with a dangerous animal. And she was. Jackson was a cult leader who brainwashed young girls, and he was a killer.

Jackson looked away from her. His fists clenched briefly before he walked back to a door next to the bathroom. When he opened it, she realised it was a walk-in closet that was much bigger than the one in her room.

Once he had closed the door behind him, she sank back onto the bed and let out a shaky breath.

She had seen and done a lot in her life in the name of survival, but this was something she couldn't process. How was she supposed to escape from him?

She was still sitting there when Jackson came out of the room, pulling a t-shirt over his head.

"Maybe a soak in the bath will relax you. All your things are in the closet. I'll be back in an hour with some food," he said without looking at her.

"Have you seen my phone?" she asked quickly.

Jackson turned slowly to face her. Gone was the man who made love to her so passionately; he was as cold as ever.

"Given how you put your sister in danger last night, I'll only allow you supervised phone calls."

She felt the chill go through her body.

"I was trying to keep myself safe, Jackson," she whispered. "You can't punish me for that. I need to know that my sister is okay."

"Your sister was okay before you went and put ideas in her head. Go and tidy yourself up, Layla," he said through his teeth before turning away from her again.

And then, once he closed the door behind him, she heard the loud click of the lock echo loudly in the vast room.

Alone like this, she couldn't help how her body started to shake. She'd never thought of death before, but it was the only thing on her mind now. If she acted without thinking again, the only way she would leave this place was in a body bag.