“Whatever. You had the chance to help me earlier by letting me go, and you didn’t. Can we just get this over with?” I don’t feel half as defiant as I sound. Mouthing off and pretending this isn’t tearing me up inside are my only ways of getting a little of myself back.

We start down the stairs, and there’s no helping my curiosity. “What’s it going to be tonight?”

“Relax and do as you’re told,” he replies, his voice flat. Like he’s reading off a set of prepared remarks or something.

“Like I have a choice.”

“Just let us do what we’re going to do, and it will be over.” I have to bite my lip to hold back all the many ugly, enraged thoughts running through my head. I could push him down the stairs right now, couldn’t I? We’re still far enough from the bottom that he might seriously hurt himself. No, with my luck, he’d end up just fine. And I would still have to go through with this, only it would be worse because he’d want to get back at me.

We go straight down to the basement, where James is already waiting in front of the TV. Some sort of sports commentary plays, not that I care, but I’d rather watch it than have to acknowledge the man smiling at me now. “Leni. I’m telling you, there’s nothing better to set eyes on after a long day at the office. Knowing you’re here and we’re going to have all this fun together makes it possible for me to get through my day.”

I don’t bother hiding my contempt as I stare at him. If he’s waiting for a response, he’ll be waiting a long time.

His smile fades away, revealing the true man beneath the façade. I guess the game isn’t as much fun if he knows he’s the only one playing. “Get her ready,” he grunts, turning back to the TV.

The coffee table is gone again, this time replaced by something else: a weight bench, smack dab in the center of the floor. Nix steps up behind me while I stare at the bench, wondering what it means. “Time to get undressed.”

Meanwhile, Colt comes walking down the stairs behind us, his tread heavy.

I look over my shoulder, and the sight of the vinyl straps he’s carrying makes my knees shake. They aren’t plain straps, either. There’s a cuff on either end of both of them.

When I don’t start taking my clothes off, Nix decides to help me, pulling the shirt over my head almost before I know what he’s doing. My thoughts are too jumbled, panic, disgust, and hatred all fighting for control of my brain.