Blood in the Water(82)

“No, the closet. I searched it yesterday before you got home.” He nodded to the coat closet by the door.

Jane didn’t want to shut Brady in the tiny, cramped space, but she had to get the girl away from him. She’d gone through more than enough trauma in the past few hours.

“Fine.” Jane took Brady by the shoulders. “I want you to watch Tangled while I talk to him, okay?”

“No, please, I don’t want to leave you.”

“I know. Tell you what, you can start the movie without me and we’ll finish it together.”

After some hesitation, Brady nodded.

“Yet another lie. Why am I not surprised?”

Jane ignored him. “Please get in the closet and watch your movie. Turn it up real loud. You’re going to have to be brave like Rapunzel. Remember when she was afraid Flynn was up to no good, and she smacked him with a frying pan?”

Brady nodded.

“You’re going to be brave for me, right? Like her?”

“Yes.” Tears trickled down her chubby cheeks.

“Good girl.” Jane kissed the top of her head, then scooped up the tablet and earbuds. After Brady stepped inside, Valentine pushed the coffee table against the door, blocking her in.

“Alone at last.” Then he gripped Jane around the waist and dragged her closer.

Her skin crawled in protest.

“Let’s take a look around and make sure your boyfriend isn’t here.” Valentine laid a cool blade against her neck, scraping the tender line of her throat. If he pressed any harder, he’d sever her carotid artery.

Jane wasn’t sure she’d live long enough to kill him.





Chapter Twenty



After Valentine marched Jane from room to room as he checked for Byron, he took her to the bathroom and ordered her to strip.

Everything felt strange—the flickering lights on the vanity popped, the water running in the tub sounded like ocean waves.

The room spun around her, and Jane locked her knees together to keep herself upright.

This is part of the plan. You’ve got him where you want him. You can do this. Remember what Byron said.

Byron said divorcing himself from his emotions allowed him to be a better hitman. He could make rational decisions, if he wasn’t panicking or feeling guilty about a situation.

The gun was only a foot away, tucked between two towels. Soon, this would all be over.

Rejecting the terror, Jane lifted her chin and defiantly stood taller.

“You’re very calm, considering.” He pulled a syringe from the top pocket of his jacket. “I normally have to use this.”

Her pulse jumped. “What is it?”

“Heroin—it makes sluts docile—putty in my hands, but since you’re being such a good girl, I’ll hold off.” He placed it on the edge of the sink. “For now. We’ll see how long your cool lasts.”

No matter what he did, she’d make sure to remain composed. If he used the drug on her, she’d lose everything.

“I’m going to tell you what’s in store for you, give you a preview. Would you like that?” Valentine threw the hood back from his face, so she could look into his eyes.

“Why not?”

“First, a bath.” He seized a tendril of hair, yanking on it. Jane didn’t react. “I wish we had time to dye your hair properly. Clearly, you were born with the wrong color. Not to worry—I brought a wig with me.”

Jane remained still as a statue.

Valentine lifted the knife with a menacing air. “Then it’s going to get a bit rough.”

She sucked in a breath. “Get it over with then.”

He sliced off the buttons on her shirt—one by one, they pinged on the floor. The blade was close to her bare flesh, the tip pressing in lightly, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to threaten.

Then he shoved the white shirt off her shoulders, and it fell to the ground. He stared into her eyes, searching for panic.

Jane gave him a smug smile. She’d learned it from watching Byron.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

“I doubt it.”

“Maybe you can change my mind? Tempt me with your body? I must confess, I’m curious. I want to see you, touch you.” He seized her by the waist, unsnapped the button of her trousers, and then peeled the zipper down, inch by inch. The sound was loud, obscene. They too slid off, leaving her in a bra and panties.

Again, he focused on her face, waiting for a reaction.

Jane betrayed nothing.

This time, he sliced the straps of her bra and then the sides of her panties—shredding her underwear.

Valentine cupped her right breast, squeezing it like a melon at the grocery store.

Disgust ripped through her, but she didn’t waver. Both hers and Brady’s life depended upon her self-control.