Uncle John rolled me onto my back. I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling as he lifted my dress. Lifted my dress until it bunched around my waist. His hands hooked into the waistband of my knickers, and he rolled them down my legs, slid them over my boots and tossed them on the floor.
He got up off his knees and crawled over me. My eyes glazed over as I pictured Rabbit in my mind. I pictured his silver eyes. I pictured his tattoos and his jet-black hair. But most of all, I pictured the kiss he had given me today, by the water. Soft and gentle, and so very loving.
I pictured loving my Rabbit.
Fingers tiptoed up my legs until they reached my stomach. Uncle John’s fingertips traced my scar. He blew out a breath. “I remember this.” I heard the triumphant smile in his voice. “We had so much more fun after this cut was made, didn’t we, Ellis?” His head dipped and he kissed my stomach. Vomit clogged my throat. I swallowed it back down. “You were always my favorite, Ellis. Out of all that I schooled, you were my favorite.” He sighed. “But then you faded on me, lost your spark. It was a sad time, Ellis, when you left me, when the light in your eyes dimmed to nothing.” He ran a fingertip over my eyebrow. I wanted to fight him off, but my body was paralyzed. My body never could fight off Uncle John.
Uncle John owned me. He always had. He’d won me years ago in a game of poker.
“I hated leaving you, Ellis. But now here you are, back again, back with that spark in your eye.” His hand drifted to the inside of my thigh.
My heart slammed into an erratic beat. It called for him to leave me alone. But the call was not answered. The call wasn’t strong enough. So I closed my eyes and tried to block out the sounds. Tried to block out the feel of his hand slipping between my legs.
I blocked it all out.
I welcomed the return of the blackness.
Back in my room of doors.
Back to being all alone.
Chapter 15
Rabbit
“Fuck!” I shouted as I looked through one of the windows. Two men lay dead at my feet, throats slit and stomachs slashed. Dolly had disappeared through a door upstairs.
She had disappeared from sight.
And then she’d fucking screamed.
I raked my hands through my hair as I paced back and forth. There were guards inside. Guards the fucker hadn’t had before.
The news. The TV news had shown our pictures. Revealed the names of the victims. Now they both knew we were coming for them.
Clearly, if these new guards were anything to go by.
I raced back to my car. Opening the trunk, I searched through all the shit I had in there. The shit I had bought last night while Dolly slept in the back seat.
I found the AK-47 and took it in hand. I slammed the trunk shut, and then froze. I glared at the house. And then my heart fucking sank.
What if she was gone?
What if that fucker had killed her?
She’d run off.
Disappeared, before I could get to her.
Pain split my chest and stole all my fucking breath. I fought to breathe through the thought of losing Dolly. Of not having her by my side. Killing. Understanding.
Having her beneath me.
Hands shaking, I reached for my cell. I pressed the only number I had logged.
“Dapper Dan!” Chapel said.
“He has her!” I hissed and felt my heart start to crumble. I couldn’t fucking breathe at the thought of her in there, bleeding . . . dead. Not Dolly. She was the only person I couldn’t have dead.
“Breathe.” Another voice came on the line. Henry.
“He has her! In his fucking house!” My legs weakened, and I leaned against the side of the car. “She ran off. I couldn’t get to her before the door shut and he locked her inside.” I swallowed, startled when I felt a teardrop fall from my eye.
My jaw clenched. “He has her . . .”
“Then get her.” I froze as Hyde’s familiar gruff voice came through the speaker. “Man the fuck up and go get your girl.” My hands tightened around my cane and the AK-47.
“She screamed . . . what if . . . what if he killed her?” I almost choked on the words.
“Then you kill them all. Whoever is left inside that house, you end them. You take them all out. And if you go too, then at least you won’t be away from your Dolly for long.”
“He also might not have killed her, Dapper Dan,” Chapel’s calming voice said. “He might simply have her in captivity.” He paused. “And she will be waiting for her White Rabbit to rescue her.”
I lowered my head and took a deep breath at his words. When I lifted my head, I stared straight ahead and let my anger toward this fucker infuse my veins.
“Gotta go,” I shouted into the phone and dropped it into the car.
I had the house in my sight. Fixing my crooked cravat, I palmed my cane and held my AK-47 in firing position. I walked at first, and then I pounded over the lawn, sheer determination pushing me forward as I burst through the front door. I unsheathed my cane and held the blade tightly. One guard came at me, then a second, then a third. I cut them all down. Shots were fired, but I took the shooters out before they could hit me.
Then I was walking up the staircase. I turned right and glared at the door that held my Dolly inside. I picked the lock with the pin from my cravat. The lock turned, and the wooden door opened. As quietly as possible, I snuck into the room, gun and blade braced for whoever was beyond. An empty room greeted me.
I walked lightly over the wooden floor, then I suddenly heard a voice coming from below. “You always were so eager, little Ellis. Always ready for Uncle John.”
White-hot rage surged through me as his voice assaulted my ears, spewing his fucked-up shit to my Dolly. I searched the floor for its origin . . . and my stomach fell.
A hole in the floor?
A rabbit hole.
Dolly had fallen through a rabbit hole.
My eyes widened at what that meant. What that would mean to her, how she would perceive that fall in her damaged mind . . .
She would no longer be in Wonderland. Which would mean . . .
“No,” I whispered. I circled the hole, only to freeze. Dolly lay on a bed in the center of the room. I shook with rage at what I saw next.
That fucker. The Jabberwock hovered above her. Dolly’s eyes were lost, staring at nothing. A catatonic body on the bed.
My broken little doll.
I backed away from the hole. I searched the room, looking for another way to get to her. There was a door in the corner. I moved as quickly as I could and pulled it open. A narrow stairway lay beyond, leading to the room below.
I crept down the stairs to a door at the end. I breathed, trying to keep calm. He’s her kill, I reminded myself. When she comes back—because she will come back to you— Dolly will have the Jabberwock’s head on a platter.
I counted to five and kicked through the door. The wood gave way easily under my wrath. The Jabberwock looked up.
Him and me, both here for the doll. Vying for ownership.
She was mine.
And he was as good as dead.
The Jabberwock leaped from the bed. His eyes widened, and then he spoke. “Heathan James.” He shook his head. “I never thought I’d see you again. In fact, I paid a lot of money to make sure I wouldn’t.”
My lips curled in disgust. This prick didn’t even deserve a conversation. All I could see was him pinning my girl down on this bed. All I imagined in my mind’s eye was this prick holding her down, raping her, then ripping her baby from her stomach. I seethed, my anger inflaming my senses from the inside out.
Bursting into the room, I fired a shot from my AK-47 straight into his leg. He reached for the gun holstered at his waist. I fired another round into his wrist. Blood spurted to the floor as he screamed.
My dick twitched at the heavenly sound.
The Jabberwock fell to the floor. Head up, he began scrambling for something. I glanced down and saw Dolly’s knife nea
r my feet. Slinging the strap of my AK-47 over my shoulder, I bent down and retrieved the knife. The Jabberwock was a tenacious bastard. Slowly, he crawled forward, murderous fury illuminating his eyes.
I let him crawl to my feet—right where he belonged. “Fucker,” he spat, spraying my shoes with his bloody saliva.
I tipped my head to the side as I surveyed his pitiful form. “Sick Fux, apparently,” I replied with a hint of sarcasm. I smirked. “You seemed so much more frightening when I was a child.” I bent down until I was mere inches from his face. His cheeks were mottled red, no doubt a result of the pain my bullets were inflicting on his body. I looked over at the bed and saw my Dolly staring up at the ceiling. My breath hitched as I watched her chest. Then I exhaled, relief like nothing I had ever felt before settling over me, when I saw it lifting up and down, slowly.
Then my eyes dropped lower . . . and this time I became a fucking inferno. I shook uncontrollably as I saw Dolly’s dress bunched around her waist. As I saw her panties on the floor . . . and as I saw her legs parted. Her limbs were paralyzed. The Jabberwock had forced Dolly out of Wonderland, back into the room of doors to which he had exiled her for all those lost years.
I tore my eyes away from Dolly and focused them on the rapist at my feet. My hands wrapped tighter around Dolly’s blade.
Her kill, I sternly reminded myself when my blackened soul tried to usurp control and finish off the fucker. I looked at the bed again. At the catatonic state she had so easily entered under his touch. His mind games had again ensnared my Dolly. After the years of turning her innocent mind to mush, just so he could take her every night, fuck her until she became a mindless automaton, doing whatever he commanded.
He was the one who had banished Ellis.
He was the one who had torn us apart.
He was the one who had financed my years in the Water Tower. I had found that out from the Warden’s records when I escaped.
This prick at my feet, the cunt spluttering for breath, gritting his teeth in pain, was the reason I had lost my girl for all those empty years.
I jumped to my feet. Unable to resist any longer, I drove my foot into the Jabberwock’s stomach. He curled up, coughing on my leather shoes. I snarled in disgust, and then flipped him onto his back with the toe of my shoe. I paced back and forth as he lay on his back, his whiskey-induced gut rolling up and down like the swell on the ocean. I shook my head, talking myself down from slitting him navel to nose.
I turned again to Dolly, staring at the mascara that had tracked down her face.
He’d made her cry.
This pathetic motherfucker had made her cry.
He was her kill. His last heartbeat had to be delivered by Dolly’s hand. Flipping my blade in one hand, the steel so comfortable in my grip, and Dolly’s in the other, I spun and slid both blades into his shoulders. The Jabberwock screamed. I smiled as I peered down at him. The steel blades had sunk into the wood beneath his shoulders.
He was stuck fast.
He was now the prey, waiting for Dolly to rouse from her slumber. He flailed, trying to move, but he wasn’t going anywhere. His eyes met mine. I saw in that moment his realization that he had lost.
Then his eyes looked to Dolly . . . and he smiled a small smile of victory. Because he had reduced Dolly to this, lying there, on the bed. To the girl I found all those weeks ago sitting in the chair, staring, unseeing, out of a dirty window.
The lost girl dressed in black.
But no more. She was lost temporarily, because she was without me. The Jabberwock was no fucking match for her Rabbit.
And I’d show him.
I climbed onto the bed. My hand settled gently on Dolly’s face. She felt stone cold. Her eyes looked past me to the ceiling. They didn’t acknowledge my presence.
“Dolly,” I whispered into her ear. There wasn’t a sound. Not even a flicker of movement. I pushed her dress down over her pussy, then moved back to look at her face.
“Wonderland,” I whispered, thinking of Henry’s advice from our discussion months ago. I had to bring her back.
I had to take her through a rabbit hole.
I looked up at the hole in the ceiling. There was no way I was using it. Scooping her in my arms, I raced from the bed to one of the locked doors. I kicked and kicked at the door until the lock gave way. A closet. I rushed to the next door and kicked at the wood. This one was stronger. Eventually, the wood splintered. When the door flew open, a bathroom lay beyond. It was vast, all fine finishes, with a shower and bath.
I ran to the bath and laid Dolly on the floor. I turned on the faucet and put in the plug. Water rose, filling the tub. I sat down and dragged the lifeless Dolly in my arms. I rocked her back and forth in my lap. I stroked back her hair and kissed her face. “Come back to me, darlin’,” I implored and rocked faster. “Come back to me, little Dolly.” My voice was husky and cracked.
I checked the water, willing it to fill faster. Dolly’s eyes were fixed on the towel rail behind us. No life. No spark.
No Dolly in their blue depths.
“Stay with me!” I pulled her higher, biting gently at her neck. “Come back,” I commanded and slit my thimble across my throat. My blood fell onto my shirt, and I placed Dolly’s mouth at my neck. “Drink,” I ordered. “Feel me. Feel our bond.” Setting her down, I sliced my thimble across my hand. I did the same to hers and clasped our palms together. I squeezed them tight, but Dolly’s hands were limp.
Repression. I heard Henry’s warning in my mind. Sometimes the repressed are lost forever. Forever imprisoned in the deepest, most inaccessible reaches of their minds.
“I brought you back once,” I said as I dropped our parted hands. The tub was full. I picked up her light body and plunged her into the water. Dolly’s makeup ran as the water washed over her face. Lightly gripping her throat, I moved her head so she was looking at me. Forcing her eyes to meet mine, I rasped, throat tight and heart shattered, “I’m the White Rabbit . . . I have come to lead you to Wonderland. There was a mission. You got lost.” I swallowed and squeezed my eyes shut. “But now we need you back.” I coughed and fought for breath. “I need you back.” Taking the pocket watch from my vest pocket, I brought it to my ear, directly in her line of sight, and whispered, “Tick tock.”
Then I pushed her under the surface.
I grasped her throat with two hands and kept her under the water. Bubbles came from her nose, but she remained still . . .
Until her leg began to twitch. My eyes snapped to it. I squeezed her throat harder, keeping her down. “Come down the rabbit hole.”
Dolly’s arm moved. Her legs began to kick. At first there were only slight movements, then her hand gripped mine. My eyes flared as I saw life seeping back into her body. “Go down the rabbit hole!” I shouted, as her hands covered mine and she clawed at my skin. I pushed even harder, until Dolly’s head touched the bottom of the tub.
She began to thrash wildly. Full-body thrashes, fighting the black hole she had to travel down to come back to me. My eyes filled with tears, blurring my vision, as she fought me.
“Let go!” I shouted. “Let go! Come back to me!”
But Dolly fought the whole way, until her limbs began to tire. Until her hands, gripping and cutting into mine, loosened . . . until they slipped to her side.
Lifeless again, the bubbles from Dolly’s nose stopped.
I wrenched Dolly out of the tub and onto the tiled floor. I breathed into her mouth and began compressions on her chest. I pumped and pumped her chest, using my breath to breathe life into hers. Her skin was pale and her hair was slicked to her face.
“Come back!” I repeated, slamming my hands against her chest. “Come the fuck back! That’s a fucking order!”
Dolly shot up from the floor, spluttering and coughing up bathwater. “Dolly!” I exclaimed and moved the hair back from her face. Her eyes snapped open.
“Rabbit,” she cried in a panicked voice. Then she looked down at her body and screamed. She bega
n hitting at her arms and legs. “I’m too tall!” she shouted, eyes wide and wild. Her head whipped around the room. “The doors! I can’t get through the doors!”
I snapped the vial of my blood from around her neck and bit off the cork. “Drink,” I ordered. I tipped her head back and poured the blood down her throat.
Stray drops fell from the side of her mouth. She swallowed, and then she sat up. She stared down at her arms and legs. “It’s working!” she yelled, just like the first time I brought her back to me. “It’s working!” she said again, but her eyes clouded over with darkness. Her short-lived joy fled their depths, only to be replaced by the most vicious of looks.
“The Jabberwock,” she said coldly. “He did this to me.” Dolly scrambled to her feet. She was dripping wet, blood trickling down her chin. “Where is he?”
“Through there,” I replied, pointing to the other room. I got to my feet, watching the beauty that was Dolly consumed with wrath, ready to make the man pay for destroying her life.
Dolly stormed out of the room, her blond hair swinging as she moved. I quickly followed, not wanting to miss one second of this kill.
Dolly looked down at the Jabberwock, part-crucified on the floor. I watched as his eyes landed on her. His mouth moved to speak, but before he could, Dolly rushed to him, straddled his waist and ripped her blade from his shoulder. She didn’t pause. Didn’t even take one single breath as she struck. She stabbed and stabbed and stabbed, never pausing. Never missing a beat, she hacked him as he lay on the floor, nothing but the lust for death in her eyes.
She struck and struck until she began to lose strength and her frantically flailing arms finally failed her. She had reached more than fifty strikes.