Ella opened her mouth to reply, then closed it when Drake fixed her with that terrifying stare.
“I’ve had enough of this. You will fucking bathe, and put on something besides those rags,” Drake barked. “And you will do it without pitching a fit, or I’ll take the god damn fire hose to you, then pull off this belt and show you what happens to little girls who misbehave.”
Ella flinched. She knew she reeked, she could smell herself. That’s what happens when you don’t shower for days.
“Maybe I would, if Cue Ball didn’t insist on supervising.”
Ella screeched when Drake crossed the room in the blink of an eye. He gripped Baldy by the neck and shoved him up against the wall. Drake’s long sharp canines were a scant breadth from the man’s face.
“What did I say about Miss Roulant?” Drake rumbled so low Ella felt it reverberate through the room.
“No one touches her,” Baldy choked out, as his face turned beet red.
“And what did I find?” Drake’s beast was shifting across his face. His claws were biting into Baldy’s neck. “You, holding her a foot off the floor,” he snarled his knuckles turning white as they tightened around the man’s neck. “Then I hear you’re sniffing around her. Are you challenging my claim?”
“No,” Baldy wheezed, his eyes bulging.
Ella started trembling when she heard the bones in Baldy’s neck crunch. Drake was choking the life out of his own man. Baldy had roughed her up and was generally a creep, but Ella couldn’t bear to watch Drake murder him.
“Please stop,” she begged.
She couldn’t help but reach out with her gift to grab at Drake’s hand, but it did little good.
“Don’t fucking interfere,” Drake snarled at her. “I don’t have patience for ignorance or betrayal.”
Ella backed up until she hit the wall, and watched in horror as blood started pouring down Baldy’s throat, and his eyes rolled back into his head. Drake dropped the limp man to the floor, then turned toward Ella. She wrapped her arms across her chest and tried to erect a barrier around herself.
“Dump him out in the dessert,” Drake commanded Neck Tattoo, as he took out a silk handkerchief and cleaned off his bloody hands.
Drake reached out and gripped Ella’s wrist, tugging her out of the small room.
“As I was saying, you will bathe, get dressed, and behave. Do we understand each other?”
Ella nodded as they entered the elevator. She hadn’t been permitted to leave the small concrete room in days, except to use the bathroom. Ella knew she should be looking for an opportunity to free herself, but she was too freaked out, having just witnessed him murder a man. Ella didn’t dare piss Drake off further, with a botched escape attempt. It was taking all she had just to keep from flipping out.
“The response is, yes sir.” Drake’s hand tightened on her wrist to emphasize his point.
Ella’s eyes widened, but she didn’t dare cop an attitude.
“Yes sir,” she murmured.
When the elevator opened again, Ella was stunned by the sight that greeted her. Drake brought her to the penthouse, instead of some new clandestine concrete bunker. Much like Drake’s office, the penthouse was ostentatious. There was a mix of leather, high-end textiles, antiques, art and electronics. She had a clear view of the Vegas skyline through the wall of windows. It looked gorgeous as the sun dipped low on the horizon. But that was the last thing on her mind.
“I don’t have to tell you not to destroy anything, do I?”
“No.”
“No, what?”
“No sir,” Ella replied flatly.
She noticed the gilded ceiling and almost snorted. Ella hated the modern method some craftsman used when gilding. They applied the metal sheets so it looked like a series of gold squares, rather than blending them together like the old masters would. Ella had a theory that it was done so everyone knew it was real gold, and couldn’t mistake it for spray paint.
Look at me, I’m a pretentious douche. I have a genuine gilded ceiling.
Ella silently distracted herself from her current reality. She had been desperate to get out of that small room, but now she wanted to go back. The four gray walls were preferable to being alone with a psychotic murderer, who was literally part animal.
Drake led Ella past the sunken living room to the master suite, which was just as large and gaudy as the sitting room.
“The bathroom is through that door. You will find clothing hanging up for you. Take all the time you need.”
Drake took a seat at a small table near the balcony, and flipped open a laptop, effectively dismissing her.
Ella was desperate to take a shower. She felt gross and grimy. Her skin itched and her hair was so oily it hung limp. She stood uncomfortably debating what to do. Ella wasn’t thrilled about getting naked anywhere near Drake, then she remembered his firehose threat. After seeing what he’d done to Baldy, she believed he’d take a hose a belt to her.