His voice brightens, but he continues to rub his crotch relentlessly, breathing, “I’m going to tattoo your pussy with my name. I’ve chosen the design already. Property of Santiago De Sauro. The words twisted around a knife. It may hurt a little, but worth it, don’t you think, honey?”
I say nothing; the full horror of my situation unfolding around me like a breaking storm.
He is mad. Delusional and dangerous.
“Yes, my darling. By the time I have finished, my name will be all over your body. My seed inside your womb and my children in your belly. I will teach you to be the perfect wife. You will learn it the hard way if you don’t cooperate, and if you ever try to escape me, I will slit your pretty little throat, but not before I chop your father up before your eyes, followed by your brothers.”
I’m going to be sick, and I retch; the meager contents left in my stomach spraying the car. At least it stops him rubbing himself, and he slaps me hard across the face yelling, “You fucking bitch. You ruined my outfit.”
He slams my head face down in his crotch, the stench unbelievable, and grips my neck, pushing my face in deeper, his erection hard against my lips.
“Do you like that honey? Can you feel how hard I am for you? Would you like a taste? It can be arranged.”
He laughs like a maniac and then says in a high childish voice, “But not until we’re married, honey. You don’t get to experience the pleasure before you’ve paid for your disobedience.”
Thank fuck for that.
He pulls me back by my hair, the pain intense as he glares at me.
“You really are a mess, honey. Don’t worry, as soon as we’re home, I’ll clean you up personally.”
He screws up his eyes as he peers at me with a critical expression.
“You’ve really let yourself go. Perhaps we should start again from scratch.”
Once again, I say nothing as he twists my head, still holding onto my hair, and sighs. “Perhaps the hair will be the first thing to go. It can grow back stronger that way. Yes, I will strip you back and build you in the image I want you to be. Josephine De Sauro will be magnificent because that is what I deserve. Blonde doesn’t suit you. I prefer dark red hair. Perhaps I should paint your body red too. That would be fun.”
I swear I’m about to pass out because I never knew until now that Santiago isn’t just an evil man; he’s a total psychopath, and if I don’t escape him real fast, my life is about to become a horror story.
CHAPTER 7
RAZOR
The principal is cool, reserved, and angry. I can tell by her tight smile and disapproving lips that are set in a thin line.
“How may I help you, Mr.…”
“I want access to the CCTV in the parking lot on the day that Sunday was abducted.”
“It shows nothing other than the make and model of the cars, and the cops have traced them and come up with nothing.”
“I’m not the cops, ma’am, and I can assure you Iwillcome up with something. So if you are interested in helping Sunday, I would hand over those tapes.”
She sighs. “I will ask my IT department to forward the images to you if you leave your number.”
“I’ll study them here.”
Her lips tighten. “Fine, but this is for Sunday because God knows I’m worried about that girl, and if there is any way I can help, I will, no matter how unconventional this is.”
She makes a call and issues her instructions, and as we wait, she asks with interest. “So why are you here? In what capacity? Did you know Sunday? Are you here on her family’s behalf?”
Simple enough questions that I don’t get to answer because what the hell am I to Sunday? The guy who let her down, who turned his back when she walked away. The guy who fucked her every night, not looking at another woman the entire time. The man who was so in denial it’s embarrassing. The man who loves her with his entire jaded heart and can’t work out how to deal with that.
“I’m a friend.”
I leave it at that, and an expression of sympathy crosses her face. “A friend?”
She nods, “She is lucky to have a friend like you who is so concerned.”