Free Pretty Stolen Dolls by Ker Dukey, K Webster Page A

again,” I tell him, my voice firm.
    Our eyes meet again. In the warm sunlight pouring in through the window, his are a molten chocolate brown. I’ve never noticed just how long his dark lashes are either. Dillon is handsome. I’ve seen the way the women at the station fall all over themselves to talk to him, but to be honest with myself, I’ve never paid too much attention. Liar.
    He’s always treated me like a burden and I’ve responded in kind. Now that he’s showing concern, I see him in a literal new light—and it irks me. I don’t want our dynamic to change. I can’t handle him caring and wanting to get inside my thoughts. He won’t like it in there.
    Dirty little doll.
    He brings his mug to his full lips and sips on the hot liquid, never breaking our gaze. A five o’clock shadow dusts his cheeks, and it looks good on him. When he sets his mug back down, he runs his fingers through his overgrown dark hair and pins me with a stare that says we can sit here all day.
    Understanding I’m not getting off that easy, I let out a resigned huff.
    “You’ve read my file or know of it.”
    A flash of anger passes over his features and he gives me a clipped nod. “Psycho.”
    Benny or me ?
    “Ya think?” I bark out with a harsh laugh.
    He takes another sip of his coffee, his dark brows furling together. I’ve never had his undivided attention and quite frankly, it unnerves me. I’m hyperaware of the messy bun I pulled my hair into this morning. Of the way my button-down shirt is undone one more from the top than usual to allow the cool air to kiss my flesh. Of the way I’d hastily slapped on makeup before walking out the door, not taking too much time to look pretty.
    Pretty little doll.
    A shudder ripples through me and he slaps the table, startling me.
    “There, Jade. Right there. Talk.” His tone leaves no room for argument.
    “I, uh…I freaked because…” I trail off and blink away the tears fighting for release. “The dolls. My abductor used to make dolls. He even sold them at the flea market. It’s how he lured us into his van that day.”
    Dillon doesn’t speak, but his jaw ticks as he clenches his teeth and those molten chocolate eyes flare with fury, causing amber licks to spark that weren’t apparent earlier.
    “I saw the dolls and I was there. I was back in the cell with him. His body was…” I choke on my words, “His breath…oh, Jesus.”
    “Sick fuck,” Dillon growls.
    Benny or me ?

    The screech of the door closing behind him startles me awake. My cell is pitch black and he doesn’t turn on any lights to break the darkness hovering in the dead of night, but I can feel his presence. Deep, ragged breaths echo around me. Sitting up on the mattress, I squint, trying to adjust my eyes through the inky veil.
    “What do you want from me?” I hiss, careful not to wake my sister.
    He sits on the bed beside me, his heat scorching the air between us, and I cower away from him. When his hand snatches my bicep and hauls me to him, I cry out despite wanting to be quiet.
    He had just killed another girl. I didn’t watch this time, but their faces are phantoms in my head, their screams echo in my dreamless mind at night.
    She wasn’t right , he’d chanted while butchering her. I couldn’t block out her screams and gurgles as she drowned in her own life essence.
    Four girls had come and left via the spirit world and my inner voice always asked why he kept us.
    But he did.
    He kept us locked away.
    Apart from each other and lonely for affection.
    Starved of comfort and connections.
    “She wasn’t right. Not pretty enough close up and she lied. Why do they lie about their age? She wasn’t twenty-one, her license said nineteen. Why lie?” he asks me, but I don’t think he wants an answer. He never has in the past.
    His hands vibrate as he rubs them down his jean clad thighs. He’s shirtless, like normal, and blood clings to his skin, making him look like a wicked piece of art.
    “Why do