“For the record, I find your sass extremely attractive, but I should warn you that my mood is going to determine one of two responses. Either I’m going to want to bend you over and f**k you right there, or I’m going to want to beat the shit out of you.”
“I’m sorry,” I said through heavy breaths, not wanting to earn either situation. Ever.
“Don’t be sorry, love. Be ready to deal with whatever response you elicit from me.” He yanked me back again, his left hand digging into my shoulder. My heart tried to leap from its prison, pounding harder and harder.
I found my mental health disturbing, as I hoped for option one instead of two. Oh, God. I’d let him screw me if it meant I wouldn’t be beaten and left in miserable pain again while I healed.
But instead of doing either, he simply placed his right thumb pad on the electronic device, leading the door to beep and swish open. A series of buttons suddenly appeared on the screen, letting him choose how long the door should stay tucked away in the wall – five seconds, one minute or remain open. He tapped the blue outlined button that chose five seconds and pushed me through. If that touchscreen opened the door, I was completely curious what the rectangular box beneath it did. It also appeared to be touch activated, but it was three times the size and likely used to house something.
The door soon closed and he led me down a hallway painted beige, with ceilings that were at least ten feet high and held three recessed pocket lights spaced evenly apart. Shit, everything was out of reach in this house. We passed three more doors that were closed with the same locking mechanism, and I moaned inside of me. Fucking cameras. He probably saw me reading up on circuitry. Unfortunately, I didn’t understand a lick of what I was reading, but he didn’t know that. He upgraded his doors in case I did learn how to bypass them. Dread began to suffocate me because I had absolutely no idea how to get past these doors without his thumbprint. Even if I knocked him out, I wouldn’t be able to lift his body that high. I’d have to…
Ugh. I decided not to think about it for the moment. My nerves were twisting my stomach enough as it was.
My eyes widened as I descended the two steps into the main living room, the hardwood beneath my feet extending throughout the house. Immediately searching for the front door, I saw it to the right between the living and dining rooms. It was heavy and massive looking – and without a f**king door knob. Damn thing had some kind of touchpad too, which must’ve automatically released it to swing open. Thick beams of dark wood shot all the way up from floor to an extremely high ceiling, the entire back side of the house nothing but glass windows showing an endless forest view. “Oh, my God,” I muttered. “Next you’re going to tell me those are shatterproof.”
“Nothing less. The windows were more expensive than the entire security system and if you so much as scratch even one of them, I will tear into you with equal abandon.”
He didn’t say it coldly, but I took his threat to heart, because I knew he was entirely serious. He always meant the things he said.
The living and dining room were as bare as the bedroom in way of objects that would be handy for me to grab and use as a weapon. Even the dining room chairs were made of heavy wood. I had the distinct feeling that anything small enough for me to handle would be in the kitchen, where I doubt he’d allow me anytime soon. Its door required a thumb print like all the rest. He sat me down in the chair directly in front of that kitchen door, then activated it to open.
“Turn around.”
I sighed quietly to myself and did so. Apparently I wasn’t allowed to watch whatever he was doing in the kitchen either. He could be poisoning the food for all I knew. After a few minutes of random noises and two minutes of hearing the microwave run, he set a bowl of soup down in front of me with chicken, pasta and vegetables, and took up the chair to my right, which was the head of the table. His attention already on his cell phone, he told me, “Soup will be gentle on your stomach. Tomorrow you can have a real meal.”
I nodded my understanding. “Thank you.”
Jesus. I withheld the urge to roll my eyes. Did I really just thank this guy for something? Funny how my mouth knew to say that before giving my brain a chance to think it over and veto the remark. Or worse, tell him to f**k off.
I stirred the soup with my spoon, watching the steam wither away in the air above it. I assumed the food was safe to eat. If he wanted to kill me, he could simply shoot me. And if he wanted to poison me, he could simply stick me with a needle. Not to mention he didn’t keep anything poisonous in his house. Last time every chemical he had was completely nontoxic.
My stomach was killing me. The smell had wafted through my nose, making my hunger pains scream at me that much more, wanting me to eat it regardless. I blew on a spoonful and swallowed, hardly noticing the taste.
“Where are we?” I asked, my gaze shifting to the brown and green landscape through the panoramic dining room window.
“Far enough into a forest that no one will ever hear you scream.” My eyes widened and rotated his way. As if he could feel my gaze, he blinked once, his eyes suddenly in direct line of sight with mine. “With ample room to bury a body that will never be discovered again.”
I swallowed, and I hadn’t even bothered to put any soup into my mouth.
“Now eat,” he commanded, going back to whatever he was doing.
I did as he instructed, no longer interested in testing him for information. Sitting there, he seemed tired. Probably because of all the preparations he claimed to have done these past several days. Which was apparently my fault for finding new ways to keep him from successfully stealing me. So the last thing I wanted to do was piss him off while he was clearly in one of his moods.
I brought the glass of water to my mouth, not even amused that what I thought would be heavy glass was actually a very lightweight hunk of plastic. Why did I have the feeling any knives I got to use in the future would be plastic throwaways? Or perhaps he’d cut my meal into bite size pieces to begin with.
I finished a few minutes later, feeling sated but not full. At least my stomach was happy enough not to bother me anymore right now. He disappeared into the kitchen with my bowl and glass, and by the sound of running water, cleaned them right there on the spot. When he returned, I heard a beep and the door slide back into its locking position.
“Come on,” he said, and I finally allowed myself to get up and turn around. “Back to the bedroom.”
So not where I wanted to go. “Do I get my own room?” I asked casually, praying for a favorable answer. But my hope was smashed to itty-bitty pieces when he replied, “Why would you need your own room? Your duty is to pleasure me.”
My face cringed at that. “I figured you’d want your privacy. You kept Veronica in a separate room.” And the thought of sleeping side-by-side with him made me sick.
“One, I didn’t want to share my bed with Veronica like I do with you. And two, we both know she would’ve never questioned her station. You, however, have a long way to go before I’ll trust you off by yourself.”
“What’s to trust? Don’t all these doors lock using your thumbprint? I couldn’t get out even if I wanted to.”
As we paused outside the master door, he brought his face incredibly close to mine. “And do you want to get out?”
“No,” I lied within a whisper.
“No?” he parroted, eyeing me like he knew I was so obviously lying. We both knew I was. And it made me wonder if he only asked these types of questions to see if he could learn to discern the difference between my truths and lies. God, I hoped I didn’t have a tell.
The way he kept staring at me so closely unnerved me. I felt myself cowering backward, but I had nowhere to really go.
“Are you afraid of me, Natalie?”
“Yes,” I admitted. “I don’t want you to hurt me.”
Apparently, that was the right answer, because his face softened. Reaching out to activate the door, he replied, “Just do what I ask, and I’ll never have to.”
16
I didn’t like being led through this room. Besides the television, there wasn’t anything for him to do but engage in sexual acts with me that I didn’t want to participate in. He didn’t stop at the bed though, taking me all the way to the corner door, having it slide into the wall and pulling me into the bathroom. It was more long than wide. Closet straight ahead. Double sinks with ample counter space lined the right side, garden Jacuzzi tub across from it, with a tiled shower entrance on the far left and door to the bathroom on the far right. Like the rest of his house, the colors were neutral – beige and light and dark browns.
Leading me into the closet with no door, my heart began to sink. Yeah, two thirds of the closet was definitely his, filled with crisp shirts, ironed pants and tailored suits, but a small portion of it was clearly meant for me. Unfortunately, jeans, t-shirts and sneakers weren’t on the approved clothing list, but floor length gowns and too-short cocktail dresses were. But what scared me the most also gave me the biggest hope. About five pairs of heels lined up along the top shelf. He’d put them up out of reach where I couldn’t grab them, but shoes and gowns meant he planned on taking me out at some point.
Suddenly, earning his trust on an epically fast scale seemed my top priority. Because after seeing this house, I wasn’t going anywhere otherwise. My only chance of escape was running once he had me out for the night – but where he’d take me I was afraid to ask.
“You have thirty minutes to shower, shave, and wash and dry your hair. And don’t get creative with the razor. If you kill yourself, I’ll have to replace you with your sister.” He didn’t care that my mouth just dropped, nor did I doubt he meant every word of that threat. “When you’re ready to come out, I want you dressed in something from the middle drawer.” He motioned toward the three built-in drawers beside the hanging gowns, then disappeared into the bedroom. Sadly, he didn’t close the bathroom door behind him, and I doubt he even left the bedroom, considering this was my first time in here.
Shave? Any hopes of him leaving me alone for my first night just got smacked in the face by one of those damn unbreakable windows. I noted the time on the wall clock, afraid he was very serious about my time limit. Thirty minutes until he was going to really screw with me.
The shower was at the end of the large bathroom, and of course, completely lacked a door. But at least it wrapped around in a U-shape, so there was some privacy – assuming he didn’t have a hidden camera in there. Which I was pretty sure he did. He was the king of hidden cameras last time, and it made me realize for the first time that the one in the bedroom was so obviously not hidden. Too tired to even think of the logic behind it, I pulled the slip over my head and stepped into the streaming water. Similar to the shower I had, this one had two options. A normal shower head or the use of six pockets that circled the top of the entire rectangular shower area to mist down below.
I figured I had a good fifteen minutes in here before I needed to get out and begin drying my hair. I washed and shaved quickly, giving myself as much time as possible to crouch in the mist and prepare myself for what was about to happen. I couldn’t help but cry. Finally, the direness of my situation hit me now, and I knew what I was up against. I was in the middle of nowhere, pantyless, with a man who went above and beyond to trap me within his exterior walls.
I hadn’t had any time to think about Nick and whether or not he was left unharmed, and sadly, I still didn’t have time to think on it. I was going to have to sleep with Zander tonight. And I had to make it as believable as possible that I was giving in, that I was accepting my fate, that this new life was the one I was meant to have from here on out. It was the only way he’d ever trust me enough to take me out at some point, to earn a little free will, to give myself the chance to escape.
Jesus, it could take f**king years for that to happen!
How was I ever going to let him touch me without breaking down and crying?
I just wanted to scream and scream and scream! I tried to expel every tear that I had so I’d have nothing left the moment he moved in on me. I was going to have to force myself not to squirm when he touched me, or show disgust when he kissed me. God, I was going to have to kiss him back. Eagerly. I was going to have please him, make him want me ten times over, which would only lead himself into doing so.
I was on the verge of throwing up my soup, my insides knotting and yanking in directions that pierced me with sharp pains. Taking in several deep breaths, I stood and switched the water back to the shower head, drenching my face once more, trying to wipe away the fact that my eyes were red from crying. I turned off the water and allowed myself to drip-dry for a moment.
I’m not going to cry anymore. I inhaled a deep breath. He can have my f**king body, but nothing else. Another deep breath. I will find a way to get back home to Nick. To my family. One last breath, then I exited the shower, grabbing one of the hanging towels at the end. I forced myself to at least appear confident, because I knew he could be watching. Hell, he may’ve already witnessed my breakdown in the shower, but that was all he was going to get.
I willed the hair dryer to work faster, my eyes glued to the clock as my time clicked down to practically nothing. It seemed I spent longer in the shower than I had planned. On the bright side – no, f**k that. There was no bright side to any of this. On the other side, I was so worried about getting finished within his time frame that none of it was spent fixating on what was going to happen once I got out there.
Finally done, I hurried back to the middle drawer. Oh, you have got to be f**king kidding me. Out of curiosity, I opened the top drawer. It was filled with simple gowns like the one I woke up in. Then I opened the bottom drawer. And groaned. Nope. That was the drawer that needed to be labeled you’ve got to be f**king kidding me. I didn’t bother to dig through it, but I saw enough the moment I spotted garters and stockings and skimpy tops that didn’t always cover the nipple.