by LP Lovell
What I now assume is a lie detector makes an eradicate scribbling noise and Three sighs. “Ella, are you lying, or just plain stupid?”
“I'm...I don't know.” The dark part of my heart knows it’s a lie, but I’m not ready to believe it. I’m not ready to believe I’ve fallen for the monsters we’re taught to fear. “I'm just nervous.”
Three huffs. I hear his fingers drum over a surface—a table most likely. Then he releases a slow laugh. “Oh, Ella. Do you love Tobias Benton?”
I take a breath then another, wishing I could see more than the empty black space this blindfold creates. Do I love Tobias? My heart beats several times as I contemplate the answer to that absurd question. Of course I don’t. He's twisted, depraved. My tormentor and—My pulse thumps hard and heavy, washing an uncomfortable heat over my skin when I tell myself he’s also my salvation. Salvation? I laugh. Tobias is anything but a salvation.
The drumming of Three’s fingers grows louder. If it were possible to detect irritation in the rhythm of one’s fingers, I would say this particular beat would be it.
Do I love Tobias? My heart flutters at the thought of his name, his face, his possessive touch that I crave as a woman starved. Jesus, am I so weak, so truly broken? Out of the two men I’ve spent the last six days with, if I were going to love one of them, surely it would be Preston. He’s less…And that’s just it. Preston is simply less than Tobias. Holy shit. I love Tobias Benton, and even though I know it, I still can’t verbalize it, even to Three. “I don’t love him.”
A scratching sound fills the air. “Bullshit.” Three grabs my jaw, the sudden contact causing me to gasp. I’m completely vulnerable in this situation, blindfolded and alone in this house. “Do not lie to me.”
“Yes!” That word seems to echo through the room, a confession and a ruthless condemnation.
There's a moment of tense silence before the thud of Three’s fist pounds the table “You love him?”
“I don't want to...”
“What was their rule?”
When I don’t answer, the heavy thud of his fist over wood sounds again. “Do not develop feelings! You've lost, Ella...”
Have I though? “I had nothing to lose,” I say, my voice sounding stronger than I feel. I have had enough of these men, of their games and their tactics.
“If you lose, I lose.” Three’s fingers wrap around my arm as he yanks me to my feet. “And I'm not a loser, Ella.”
I spend the rest of the afternoon locked in a room.
When nightfall rolls around, a butler brings in a black, satin evening dress decorated with silver stitching and a matching mask. I roll my eyes when I notice Dior stitched inside the label. At one point in my life, donning an expensive dress like this may have made me giddy, but all it does tonight is make my blood boil.
After I dress, I stand by the door and wait, angry at Tobias, angry at Three, but above all else, I’m angry at myself. I’ve just slipped into a pair of Louboutin’s when the door opens, the butler summoning me.
That seed of anger grows as I’m led to the stairwell. Classical music filters up from the bottom floor. From the landing, I spot women in impressive ball gowns and men in tuxedos—all with decorative masks—moving throughout the house. And there, at the bottom of the stairs, a man in a dark, tailored suit and a gold and midnight blue mask waits. I assume he’s Three, but when I make it to the last step and he reaches for my hand, something feels off. There’s no empty void, no hesitation. When my palm lands in his, there’s something magnetic.
“Little lamb, how I’ve missed you.” Tobias’s arm comes around my shoulder and I fall into him, relieved to find my haven.
A man in a grotesque devil mask with golden horns joins us and Tobias’s hold tightens. “Tonight, is my night, Tobias.” The sound of Three’s voice makes me cringe. It’s not smooth or decadent, just void. Completely void.
“Play with her body, tonight, Three. But she’s mine. Mind, body, and soul.” Tobias’s words coil around me like a serpent, threatening to constrict and choke me. I can barely register his declaration, one I would usually long to hear because he essentially just offered me to Three as his whore, like property to be loaned out for a night. I pull away from Tobias, his touch unwelcome for the first time since I met him.
Three smirks as though I just handed him a medal of some kind. “Oh, ye of little faith.” I feel like a dog’s tug rope when Three grabs my waist.
Tobias’s stance goes rigid, and I imagine if his perfect face wasn’t hidden behind that mask, I’d see anger rippling across it.
“Why, what’s wrong, Tobias?” Three laughs. “This was, after all, a business arrangement.”
A business arrangement...Another pleased chuckle passes through Three’s lips. He’s probably delighted at getting underneath Tobias’s skin.
Tobias slowly takes a step back. As much as I want to beg him not to leave me, I don’t, because he won’t save me. He’s made that clear. “And some business partners aren’t worth having,” Tobias says, and with that, he sinks into the crowd of men in suits and masks.
It is a ball fit for royalty. Filled with those who have money and riches—and while this may very well look like a fairy tale, it’s not the kind with happy endings. It’s the dark twisted side of humanity. These are the pages in those tales stained with blood, filled with the villains.
“Such a sore loser,” Three mumbles, escorting me toward an open bar. Within minutes, he passes over a glass of champagne.
I stare at the bubbles fizzing their way to the top, then down it, hoping it will help take the edge off. I’ve barely finished it before he places it on the bar and leads me to the dancefloor.
The lulling notes of the music around us is a vapid contrast to the churning chaos within me. He spins me around and I spot Tobias watching off to the side. Preston steps up and whispers in his ear. I wonder what he’s saying, what they’re thinking. I wonder if Lily Davis is here, whether they brought her to fuck while they pass me off to Three…
Three spins me again, and the music seems to be coming from inside me. Each note is a sharp prick to my ears, a melodic trance pulsing through me. With each turn, colors swirl together like a watercolor that's not yet dry. Red and green and blue...And the subsequent warmth that suddenly overcomes me is visible, like the glow of a star distant in the black of night. Everything becomes distorted. Everything is wrong.
My mouth grows dry and I stumble. My heart beats all out of rhythm.
“What's wrong, little toy?” Three’s breath dances over my neck on a malicious laugh. “Not feeling well?”
When I pull back to look at him, his mask morphs and shapes. His eyes turn in and the nose of the mask grows into a forked tongue moments before he coils around me like a snake. He’s going to suffocate me. I scream and pound my fists over him.
“Ella, calm down. You're causing a scene.”
“I...I...” I can't breathe. My vision shatters like glass. Colors and shapes float off like sparks from fireworks. Everywhere I turn, monsters wait with sharp teeth and claws. Dragons and lions, devils and ghosts—
“Ella!” Three grabs my arms and yanks me toward him. “They're only costumes.”
But I can still see them all staring at me, their mouths watering. “Please,” I beg. “Don't let them eat me.”
His finger strokes my cheek as his chin nestles against the crook of my neck. There’s something so familiar in the way he’s holding me. Dare I say, comforting. “Now, now. Calm down. It's only a party. We're only here for a little fun, and it’s time to play the game.” He laughs and any comfort I felt is sucked into a deep vacuum.
I stare past his shoulder at the party, at the walls dripping like wax, and for the briefest moment, I know he’s drugged me. And I try to convince my racing pulse that none of this is real. That in a matter of hours it will all go away. I just need to find a room and lie down.
“Day six, Ella. Are you game?” Three rounds behind me.
“I. I can'
t...Something's wrong.”
“Oh yes, something is very, very wrong. You love a man who is incapable of love. A man who is above such trivial things. To Tobias, you are nothing but a mere form of entertainment, and yet, you love him.” Three kisses along my jaw. I want to shove him away, but I don’t have the strength. “So foolish. So desperate. No wonder your last boyfriend tossed you away like garbage.” He violently spins me to face him then drags his thumb over my bottom lip. “You and your pathetic love are worthless, Ella. But to me, you’d be priceless.”
I go to slap him, but he catches my wrists, squeezing hard as his jaw tics.
“Why don't you go see if Tobias will save you?” He releases me. “After all, finding a way to save yourself is the aim of game six.”
Save myself? What will I have to save myself from? My gaze goes to the dark slits in Three’s mask, the bottomless pits that lack all emotion.
“Go find him, Ella. Go find your knight in the blackest of armor. Go find your hero and see if he'll have you now that the game is nearly done.”
I take a few unsteady steps back, fighting against the terrifying hallucinations dancing around me. Then I run. I bump into people—monsters with flashing teeth and glowing eyes— as I rush through the ballroom in search of Tobias and the gold and blue mask. My vision blurs behind tears as I shove through the crowd. “Tobias?” I shout, and the room falls silent—or does it?
Someone grabs onto my shoulder, their hold warm and soft. Secure. When I turn around, I’m staring at the gold and blue of Tobias’s mask. I fall into him, clutching to his lapel as though it is the only thing that can possibly ground me. “I need to leave,” I whisper.
Without hesitation, Tobias threads his fingers through mine and leads me out of the ballroom, through the foyer, and up the winding stairs to one of the bedrooms. The door closes behind us. He’s going to make this go away, he’ll make me feel safe. He’ll make these terrible images disappear.
“He drugged me,” I say.
Tobias hangs his head, mask still firmly in place as he shrugs out of his suit jacket. He tosses it to the bed, and it morphs into a creature then slinks to the floor. I ignore it, focusing instead on my villain as he unfastens the buttons of his shirt.
Spiders scatter across his skin. “Make it stop,” I whisper.
He kisses me softly, letting down the zipper to my dress. Something is freeing in the way it falls to the floor and leaves me naked.
“Tobias,” I breathe seconds before he shoves me face-first on the bed. I hear the clink of his belt seconds before his cock thrusts into my pussy. A welcomed intrusion so familiar, so learned… I fist at the sheets as he takes me without mercy.
“Don't be angry,” I gasp between deep pumps. “Please.”
“Shh,” he says before he slaps my ass and flips me onto my back.
When he spreads my legs and slams back inside me, I know it should feel good, but it’s wrong. Off-kilter. Rough and forced with the lack of raw lust he so easily possesses...He pinches my clit between thick fingers, rubbing and coaxing moans from me. Heat explodes throughout my body in a violent wave. I lose myself in the blissful fog, and without thought, without hindrance, I drag him down to me for a ruthless kiss. He groans against my mouth and then goes stiff, forcing his cock so deep that a twinge of pain shoots through me.
I want him forever. I need him. “I love you,” I whisper. The second the confession falls from my lips; I open my eyes in panic. And the eyes staring down at me are swirling with storm clouds. Blue storm clouds, not green. My heart stops and I bolt upright as the sting of betrayal takes hold.
“So foolish, Ella.” Three grins behind the gold and blue mask. “And such a worthless whore.” He grabs his clothes, tugging them on before he heads toward the door. He’s halfway into the hall when he stops and pulls a dagger from his pocket. The silver blade glints in the dim light. “Game six,” he says. “All you have to do is survive.” Then he tosses the knife inside the room.
The door slams shut, a lock clicks, and I’m left naked and soiled with Three's come—not Tobias’s or Preston’s— dripping from my pussy.
I stare down at the sheets. I came for him. I came for him...
Did Tobias know he took his mask? Did he give it to him? Of all the things they’ve made me do, this is the worst. But isn’t that the whole point? For each day to push me further, harder. For each game to threaten to break me so entirely I may never return.
Voices come from just outside the room. A low hum of laughter quickly turns to growls and snarls. Somewhere in the distance, carnival music plays, and the walls of the room seem to grow and contract. I’m losing it. I feel it. Like I’m being pulled down some deep, dark tunnel against my will.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, bringing my knees to my chest in an attempt to calm myself.
The room whirls by in a blaze of color like I'm on a fairground ride, and I close my eyes, willing it to stop. The memory of Three pounding into me surfaces and my stomach churns. I hate that I gave into him. I hate that I enjoyed it.
The creak of the door catches my attention, and my gaze shifts toward the open doorway. An army of grotesque creatures creeps in with sharp fangs and long claws. When one of them calls my name, I scramble off the bed and grab the knife from the floor.
The game is to save yourself. From these monsters? Oh, God. Naked, I slash the blade through the air at one of the approaching figures. It screams and staggers back, and I lunge at it, plunging the blade into its chest.
I fight off more and more of them, slicing at their grabbing hands and snapping teeth. I stab and slice and maim, screaming and cursing until they're all dead and I’m left panting for breath.
The door opens once again and a figure steps in. The hall light catches on the blue and gold mask, igniting hatred within me. Three. It's three… And I will kill him. “Stay away from me!” I point the bloodied knife at him, and he stops mid-stride.
“Oh, Little lamb… What has happened?”
29
TOBIAS
Ella stands amidst bodies, covered in blood, but it’s not the sight of death that bothers me. Every person she has slain was a child trafficker. They were deserving of death. No, what bothers me is that she’s naked.
Her frantic gaze locks on me then shifts to her bloodstained arm. When she places the blade against her skin, I rush toward her and snatch it.
“Gone!” she screams, swatting at her body like something is on her. “I want him gone. Get him off me.”
The drugs have taken hold, and surprisingly, it bothers me to see her this distraught. “There’s no one here but me, Ella.”
She collapses into me like dead weight, sobbing as she pulls and grabs at my jacket.
The door opens behind me and Preston lets out a low whistle before he stops beside me. “You’ve done so well, Ella.”
Her body tenses and her hold on my jacket tightens. “You did this! You did this to me!” Then her fists meet my chest. She pounds over and over, scratching and slapping while she screams. She’s hysterical.
“I did do this to you.” I grab both her wrists and hold her in place, and she spits in my face. My anger flares, but only for a moment. So, this is what it takes to break? Six days. I take her by the wrists and hold her in place. “You are so beautiful broken, little lamb. Perfectly broken and perfectly flawed.” And when I go to kiss her, she doesn’t stop me. She doesn’t fight me. She allows me to. Her lips part and invite me in, and I bet if I touched her pussy it would be wet.
“I thought it was you,” she whispers against my lips seconds before I taste the salt of her tears. “He had your mask. I wouldn’t have come for him if I knew.”
Rage sets in, hot and fast. I set my mask down while I was talking business and thought some of the waitstaff must have picked it up. It shouldn’t bother me. I shouldn't care, but I do. Even those without morals have a weak spot, and this woman is quickly becoming mine. One Three took advantage of.
“Tobias,” she w
hispers. “You’re hurting me.”
“I’m sorry, my lamb.” And let up on my hold, then I pull a syringe from my pocket and gently press it in her neck. “Sweet dreams.”
The car drives over the Manhattan bridge and I stare down at the lights twinkling over the dark water, thinking. I will kill Three no matter who wins the game.
My precious lamb’s head is in my lap, lost in sleep.
“Tobias, we don't have to do this. We can take her—you can take her and run.” He’s worried. I can hear it in his voice. What has she done to us? I fear that as we have stripped away her humanity, she may have born it within us. Because Preston and I do not feel—did not feel...
“The game's not over, Preston. And I do believe she may win.”
“Tobias, game seven—”
“Enough, Preston.” I grit my teeth and try to wade through the thoughts swirling in my mind.
We've tainted her, but in turn, she has tainted me. In this experiment of good versus evil, which truly does prevail? Is there not always light to balance out dark? And how can I ever live without her?
Closing my eyes, I bring her hand to my mouth and gently kiss her scraped knuckles. I don’t want to think about what happens if she loses.
The car bumps over the cobblestone road before it slows to a stop. Preston glances from me to Ella and sighs. “I liked her, Tobias.”
“She truly was perfect...” I gather her in my arms and climb out of the car, taking her straight into the apartment building, up the stairwell, and into an immaculate living room. One with fresh Serenity Blue paint...
I take her to the bedroom and lay her on the bed just so. Her blonde hair frames her blood-splattered face and something tight pulls in my chest. This is my Ella. My little lamb. Forever and always. No matter how this game will end. I will never forget her. I will never let her go...
As I sweep my fingers along her jaw, I find it so hard to leave her side. There's a draw with her I've never experienced and, with each passing day, with each game she’s won—or better yet, survived—a piece of her has been revealed to me that will forever be unmatched by any other woman or man. And maybe this is love. As much love as a twisted soul like mine can manage. She is my light, the human side of a monster. Yes, this is love…