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Barbie B*tch
Author: Sheridan Anne

Chapter 1



The sharp edge of the broken wine bottle slices through Jude’s flesh and that very first scream of agony is enough to send satisfaction pumping through my veins. The heavy metal door slowly closes and rebounds off the lock with a loud, sharp bang, leaving it propped open with a sliver of light shining through Jude’s cold, dungeon.

If I was smart, I'd open the door wide and leave a way out, somewhere to run and make a quick getaway, but not today. All senses of right and wrong left me the second I saw his face.

I won’t be walking out of here until this is done. Revenge is a dish served ice-fucking-cold.

No one gets away with putting their hands on me. I’ve allowed Nic to walk all over me for too long and I won’t stand for it anymore.

From now on, I walk on my own two feet and I do it with pride. I deal with my problems, and I will be the one to right the wrongs made against me. I’ve always seen myself as strong, but I was anything but. I was weak. Defeated. Scared.

Never again. I don't care how sick this makes me. I don't care if it puts me on the same level as Nic. I'm ending this and I'm ending it now. I'm tired of looking over my shoulder and seeing his face in every shadow. I'm sick of remembering the way his hands felt against my body or the way he tore my dress and left me completely defenseless to take what he wanted.

I'm done letting him win.

“Fuck, you little bitch,” Jude growls low, his teeth clenching as he pulls hard against the chains keeping him hostage. Blood pours from his thigh and a maniacal grin spreads across my face.

Damn. That felt good.

I tilt my head and let my eyes sparkle with excitement, showing him just how fucked up I can be. “What's wrong, Jude? You don't like that? You don't like me taking whatever the fuck I want?”

“You're fucking insane,” he spits at me as I spin the broken wine bottle in my hand and step closer to him, watching as he desperately tries to pull away, scrambling across the cold concrete floor.

A laugh bubbles up my throat. “You know what's fucking insane?” I taunt, brushing the broken glass over his skin, teasing him with the power I hold and loving the way his eyes follow my every little movement. “Thinking you can drug and rape me then walk away without punishment.” I lean in, pressing the jagged glass a little harder into his skin and grinning as I pierce it. My voice lowers to a sadistic, twisted whisper. “That's not how this little game is going to play out.”

“You won't get away with this,” Jude says, his eyes wide and terrified. “My father is going to find out and he's going to have you committed. You'll never walk this town again. You're going to wish you were dead.”

Ha. What a joke.

“What's that I hear?” I laugh, tearing my hand back and watching the glass slice through his delicate skin like a warm knife through butter. He cries out and the satisfaction pulsing through my body intensifies. “Hiding behind Daddy's power, money, and sick morals again? But guess what? He can't hear you scream down here.”

“You're fucking sick.”

“I'm fucking sick?” I grab his shoulders and slam my knee up into his junk, then step back to watch as he falls to the ground, doubling over in agony. He lands in the puddle of blood at his feet and for a slight second, I'm thrown back to the Black Widow's warehouse, watching as two murderers died by the hands of my so-called best friend. They too collapsed into pools of their own blood, right before Nic introduced me to his dark side.

Looking at Jude's pathetic self laying in agony at my feet, I finally get it. Without hesitation, I'm going to end him just like Nic had done to those who had wronged him and I won't stop until the job is done. I deserve peace. I've only been living with this for a few weeks, but what about the other girl he hurt? She's been living with this for who knows how long? She deserves justice just as much as I do, if not more. They laughed at her and claimed she was a liar. They disregarded her pain, embarrassment, and shame.

I won't let him get away with it any longer. People like Jude need to realize that their money won't always speak louder than their crimes. If justice won't get served in a courtroom, then it sure as hell will be served in this old, secret room in the back of Charles' private wine cellar.

I kneel, watching him writhe in pain. “You're scum, Jude Carter. I'm going to enjoy ending you.”

A twisted laugh tears out of Jude as he tips his head back to meet my eyes. “I fucking dare you,” he taunts.

I narrow my eyes and really take him in. He's skinny and malnourished. It's clear he's been down here since the masquerade party, and it's damn near clear that Colton was the one who put him here. Who else would know about this fucked up little dungeon back here?

Jude has bruises covering his body, both old and new. There are cuts, grazes, burns. All sorts of shit covering him and it's clear that Colton has been taking his frustrations out on him. But why? Is this Colton's way of trying to protect me? All I know is that Colton has known exactly where this asshole has been for the past three weeks and didn't say a fucking word.

He lied to me and that's inexcusable. Unforgivable.


As I watch Jude, I see the desperation in his eyes. He wants me to end him. He wants me to slice this jagged glass deep across his throat and end his suffering, and for once, I'm inclined to give him exactly what he wants. But he should know, I won't be doing it without taking what I want first.

He's going to remember me when he's gone. He's going to rot in hell and he's going to know for all of eternity that I was the one who put him there. I'm going to make him wish he never touched me, never even fucking saw me.

“Is that what you want?” I question, leaning toward him. “You want me to kill you? Do you a fucking favor and take away all of your pain?”

“Just do it,” he spits with desperation.

“Don't you worry about that,” I tease, spinning the wine bottle in my hand again, feeling a piece of my soul darkening to the point of no return. A laugh bubbles up my throat, making me sound like a psychotic serial killer. “I have big plans for that, but the show is only just starting. Do you really think I'm about to skip ahead to the big finale when I haven't had a chance to make you hurt, just like you did to me?”

Jude pulls himself back to his feet and I don't miss the way his knees shake beneath his weight. “You don't have the fucking guts,” he says as I straighten myself out to meet him face to face. “Just turn around and fuck off. We both know Colton is going to keep me down here as his little chew toy, so unless you're here to let me finish what I started, then I suggest you go.”

I see fucking red.

The jagged edge of the wine bottle slams up into Jude's stomach, the broken glass plunging deep inside of him. “The fuck did you just say to me?” I demand, tearing the bloodied wine bottle out of him.

Jude instantly falls to his knees, his hands clutching at his stomach. They turn red within seconds and his dirty shirt becomes drenched in his own blood. “What's your fucking problem, bitch?” he says, staring down at his hands in shock. “You fucking stabbed me.”

“AND YOU FUCKING RAPED ME.” The light from the door shines against his shimmering red hands and happiness sparks within my dead soul. I didn't realize how badly I needed that. “But about fucking time, right?” I laugh, wondering what parts of my soul will still be intact when I walk out of here. Maybe I’ll lose it all and spend the rest of my days suffering, or maybe I'll sleep like a fucking baby knowing that he'll never be able to touch me again.

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