Ella
"What the hell are you doing?" My voice shakes, but I'm trying not to let the fear show.
Jaxon doesn't answer right away. Instead, he turns his head slowly, a smug grin spreading across his face. "Oh nothing," he says, glancing down at Rachel like she's nothing. "Just having a little chat with your best friend."
I glance at Rachel, and my stomach twists. Her eyes are glazed, her face pale. Her clothes barely cling to her body, ripped in ways that tell a story I'm not ready to hear. Jaxon has her arm twisted behind her back, and she winces in pain every time he tightens his grip.
"What the hell did you do to her, Jaxon?" I shout, but my voice cracks. He takes a step toward me, his robe flapping open slightly, revealing just his underwear underneath. A cigarette dangles from his lips, smoke curling up to the ceiling, and he swirls a glass of whiskey in his free hand like this is all some kind of twisted joke.