45. Winter

After hours of waiting,the door finally swung open. Trent lounged in the doorway. He was wearing a suit and looked like he'd had a long night. He smelled like booze and sweat. There were dried rings of it on his pale-blue dress shirt.

His gaze ran over me and Selena, and he smirked with satisfaction. "Winter, enjoying your stay?"

"Why are you doing this? I was doing what you said. I broke up with Asher?—"

"And snuck away for a secret rendezvous in the woods. You have no idea how that makes me look, like I can't even control my future wife."

"I didn't sneak away."

"I don't care. Don't bore me with the details. The fact is, you embarrassed me, and you're going to pay for it." His attention latched onto Selena. "Or your friend is, your choice."

Selena was shaking beside me. I took my arm off her shoulders, ignoring her when she clutched onto me and stood.

"This is between you and me."

Trent raised an eyebrow at me. "Look how brave you are. It's a shame to damage the marriage merchandise, but I'm happy to oblige you. Best break that indomitable spirit now."

"You have to guarantee that Selena goes home untouched, and that nothing happens to Asher."

Something dark and violent passed through Trent's eyes before he sneered at me. "And tell me, what did Martino do to inspire such unwavering loyalty from you?"

He loved me when no one else would. He wanted to take care of me, like no one else ever has before.

"Does that matter now?" I evaded his question. Even talking about the things that had passed between me and Asher, a balm for my lonely soul, felt dirty. I didn't want Trent's influence to sully the pure and brilliant love I held for Asher.

"No, I suppose not. I won, after all." Trent pushed the door open. "Come on, then."

"No!" Selena cried, holding on to me as I stepped away.

I shook my head and shushed her softly. "It's okay. It'll be okay, remember?"

Bran O'Connor and his bloodthirsty vengeance was, hopefully, on the way. We just had to hold on. I just had to hope that Selena remembered the plan. She seemed so panicked and out of it, and who could blame her?

I followed Trent through the building, heading lower still. Was there no end to this building? Was the basement literally in Hell?

We came to a small room with black studded leather walls. I would guess it was a tattoo parlor if I hadn't slipped into an episode of TheTwilight Zone. The centerpiece of the room was a chair with restraints on the arms. The smell of burning filled the air. Like barbecue with a side of singed hair. It immediately made me queasy.

"Come on in, Winter. Don't worry. I have plenty of experience putting my mark somewhere it won't show. Let's see how your boyfriend feels about you once you've got my mark on you."

This was wrong. I couldn't just walk in here and trust that Bran O'Connor would come through. I had to run. I had to do something.

Trent seemed to anticipate my change of heart. He reached out and grabbed my hair, dragging me into the room and slamming the door behind us.

He pulled me to the chair with the restraints, and I fought him every step of the way. He gave a growl of frustration and slammed my head into the nearby wall, sending the fight out of me.

I sagged, dizzy, while he tied me to the chair. Then he went to the table at the back, and the smell of burning got stronger. I wriggled my wrists in the straps. There was more give than I'd expected. I could almost get my hands out if I turned them just right. Trent fucking sucked at tying knots. I stared at the straps, twisting my wrist back and forth to loosen the amateur knot.

"Just need to heat the element," he said cheerfully over his shoulder.

I would have thrown up if I had eaten anything.

"I'll put the brand somewhere just for us. Sound good? It can be our inside joke."

I blinked at the camera in the corner, a red light pulsing steadily. They filmed all of this?

Trent swung around and lifted something metal, about the length of a knife. The end was glowing red.

Fear morphed my insides to ice. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think. I could only stare.

Trent started forward, just as the lights in the room shut off and we were plunged into darkness.

"What the fuck?" He snarled somewhere in the dark.

I could still see the glowing hot brand, so I knew he hadn't moved. I sawed my wrists back and forth, loosening the knots enough to get one hand out. I attacked the other hand, Trent stumbling about. After what felt like an eternity, but was probably only seconds, I had my other hand free. I slowly slid out of the chair.

Trent had locked the door with a key on his belt. I couldn't get out without it. I headed toward him as silently as I could. It was pitch-black. If he hadn't been holding the shimmering orange brand, I'd never have been able to tell where he was. I headed toward him and circled behind. I had to find something to hit him with, but I was afraid of making a noise and letting him know I was there.

Without warning, an emergency light of some kind blinked on, and the sprinklers exploded over us both. The cold water soaked into my clothes, making me shiver. Trent peered up at the sprinklers, annoyed, then looked at the chair. The now empty chair.

He turned at the same time I sprang forward. I had nothing in my hands to do any kind of damage with.

But he did.

I rushed him and wrenched the hand holding the brand upward with a pointed jab. The brand hit him in the neck, pressed in deep by the force of my shove.

The smell of burning flesh filled the room, so disgusting and visceral it made me want to gag.

Trent jerked, his face going white with pain. He reacted slowly, perhaps due to the shock. He dropped his hand and let go of the brand. The thing had seared into his skin and hung on for a few extra seconds before dropping to the floor.

He howled in pain. His hands clamped over his neck, and I took the chance to leap forward again and go for the keys.

He caught me at the last second, blocking me with his back. I went around him, and he managed to get himself together enough to elbow me in the face. I fell to the wet floor, pain lancing over my face. My nose was aching, and thick blood surged down the back of my throat. I coughed, trying to crawl away. He bellowed with rage and kicked me. The kick landed in my belly, and I flipped onto my back. Water from the sprinklers rained down on my face. There was a pounding sound coming from the door.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Someone was trying to get in. Maybe it was Bran? I had to hold out and wait for whoever it was. Trent brought his foot down on my ribs, and I wheezed. I rolled away when he went to do it again and went right over the brand. It was still super-hot. I jerked my hand away from the heated end and grabbed the handle.

"You stupid bitch. I was going to marry you and make my fucking father happy, and now, instead, I'm going to kill you and cut you into chum for The Cove's sea life."

He followed me across the floor. I tried to crawl away, and he kicked me again. I fell but managed to avoid the brand this time. I needed to use it again before it got too cold.

"Would it have been so fucking bad? Be a bored pampered housewife, don't bother me and I wouldn't bother you. Buy what you want, do what you want — just don't embarrass me. But that was too fucking much for you, wasn't it, Winter? You've got more of your aunt in you than I could have guessed, but at least she had the class to just die!"

He bent down to punch me, then grabbed my hair and dragged me to my feet.

"I'm not going to die," I gasped out. "Not here, and not the slow, silent death of being married to a monster like you. I get to choose."

I wrenched my hand back and blindly stabbed the searing brand toward his face.

The brand sank into something soft.

"And I don't choose you," I murmured, and pressed deeper.