by Zoe Blake
It felt as if I had finally taken my first full breath after being underwater. As if I hadn’t been alive until that very moment. She was the lightning bringing Frankenstein’s monster to life.
Exhausted, she had quickly fallen to sleep after our lovemaking. Could you call the violent meeting of our bodies lovemaking?
After tucking her in, I waited for the handyman I employed at my own home to arrive to fix her door, knowing he would be discreet and not ask any unfortunate questions. Surveying the small, cluttered flat she shared with a roommate, I knew I needed to move her to my quarters soon. This building had only the rudimentary elements of security, a doorman and locks. If it weren’t for the doubling of the guards I had watching her, I would have never let her stay as long as this, but enough was enough. I needed her under my roof, and my control, away from all of these modern interferences.
She had me; she no longer needed a mobile phone, school, friends, or a job.
I would take care of her every need, her every want.
The modern world and all its dangers would cease to exist for her.
I would become her everything, as she was mine.
I should have forced her home with me last night but there were arrangements that needed to be made that I couldn’t have her witnessing. Let her enjoy her last few days of freedom.
Soon the cage door would close.
Reaching for the gun, I dipped a rag into the small, open bottle of Renaissance wax and began to methodically rub the solvent onto the gun, watching the walnut stock begin to glisten and gleam. The sporting rifle belonging to Queen Victoria’s Prince Albert was the highlight of my collection. I had fought long and hard to locate it, then outbid the vultures who descended as soon as word got out that Caspar Georg Koenig’s gun with its silver and mother-of-pearl scene of a hound chasing a fox came up for auction. It used to be one of my most treasured possessions, until Elizabeth.
Polishing the browned steel barrel with its gold overlaid trigger and lock, I went over my plans once more.
A low tone sounded before my assistant’s voice broke my reverie. “Your Grace, Dr. Leilend from Shelton Pharmaceuticals is here to see you.”
“Send him in.”
Staying seated and at my task, I greeted the doctor. “Thank you for traveling to London on such short notice. Please have a seat.”
The doctor fidgeted with his briefcase before nodding several times and taking a seat. His nervousness did not affect me. I was used to people being nervous in my presence. If they were smart, they would be.
“Of course, Your Grace. After all, you’re the new boss.”
I smiled. Yes, I was, after successfully buying the majority of stock shares in the company earlier this week.
Leaning back, I still held the rifle aloft. “Tell me about Blebbistatin, Doctor.”
Leaning forward, the doctor’s demeanor became animated. “It is pretty exciting stuff. Your memories are connected to neurons in the brain, which are supported by a molecule called myosin. We’ve figured out that you can disrupt certain memories if you disrupt this molecule, which is what Blebbistatin does.”
“So, you basically erase the memory before the brain puts it on the hard drive.”
Bouncing slightly in his chair, Dr. Leilend waved his hands in the air. “Exactly! You explained it perfectly. Except it doesn’t erase it, as much as disrupts it for a month or so.”
“With just one dose?”
“Yes! It just takes one dose. Amazing, isn’t it. The human brain.”
“And if you administer another dose? Does that extend the memory disruption?”
Dr. Leilend waved his hands again. “We don’t know! That is what is so exciting about my research. There is still so much to learn.”
Turning my attention back to cleaning my gun, I kept my voice casual. “I’m going to need a few samples of that drug.”
Dr. Leilend laughed.
Looking up, my brow lowered. “Did I say something funny, Doctor?”
Losing his previous excitement, the doctor shrank back in his seat and began to stammer. “It’s… it’s… not… not possible. It’s an extremely… extremely… dangerous drug, Your Grace. We are years away from a full human trial. Not to mention the ethical repercussions.”
Running my gloved hand over the long barrel, I didn’t even bother to look up. “You have a choice, Doctor. Either have your funding completely cut off or doubled.”
The doctor’s shoulders slumped. Standing, he lowered his head. “I will ship you two doses.”
“Double that, if you wouldn’t mind.”
His eyes widened but he slowly nodded and left my office.
Raising the rifle, I looked down the barrel, imaging a sleek, chestnut-haired fox within my sights, and pretended to pull the trigger.
Chapter 17
Lizzie
My head turned at the sound of the small bell chimes. A group of students filed in through the narrow café door, bringing a burst of early fall wind with them. Letting out the breath I was holding, I continued spinning the now empty disposable coffee cup in my hands. I had already shredded the cardboard hand protector. The pathetic bits and pieces lay scattered across the table.
Once more the bell sounded. This time it was just an older couple.
Pushing the cup away, I checked my phone for the thousandth time that morning.
Me: I’m sorry, Richard, but I can’t see you anymore.
Richard:
What was I expecting? An I’m sorry I kicked down your door and fucked you senseless last night text?
I had woken up this morning, tucked snugly into my bed. Looking around the bedroom, everything was neat and in order just as usual. Walking into the main part of the flat, I was stunned to see the door perfectly intact on its hinges. Going up on my tiptoes, I snuck a peek out the peephole. No men in black fatigues guarded the entrance. If I wasn’t so sore between my legs, I would have seriously thought I had imagined the whole thing. Even with my bruised thighs, I still wasn’t entirely certain it did happen.
I became convinced when I returned back to my room. On the pillow next to mine was the purple bejeweled bird pin Richard had given me yesterday. Only one person could have left it there.
His little bird.
I still hadn’t quite wrapped my mind around what happened last night. The fact that it was absolute obsessive insanity, I had a firm grip on. It was my feelings about that insanity I was having a hard time with. Against my absolute sane and sober better judgement, I loved it. Damn me to hell for being a complete idiot, but I loved every minute of it. There was just something so intoxicating about driving a man like that to madness.
What girl wouldn’t want a man so crazy with want for you that he kicked down a door to get to you?
Kicked. Down. A. Door.
The sex was mind-blowing. Never in my life had I just been taken over like that. I wasn’t me; I was a body being used, abused, and treasured all at the same time.
The bell chimed and I jumped.
More students.
There was no denying I was half expecting to see Richard charging through that door at any moment. I wasn’t exactly disobeying him. It was more like I was thinking about disobeying him. Sitting at a café across from uni, my class started in thirty minutes. I hadn’t decided yet if I was going to go in.
I know Richard demanded I quit school but he couldn’t possibly have been serious. It was ludicrous.
Probably just an angry utterance in the moment. Still, Richard didn’t really strike me as the type of man to say things he didn’t mean. Could he have been serious about my visa? Did he have the power to get me a resident visa? Probably. Jane mentioned that as a duke he was also a member of the House of Lords so I guess it was possible. Even if it was true, what did he expect me to do? Lie around all day naked just waiting for him to come and fuck me?
My thighs clenched at the tantalizing thought. For a moment I allowed myself to think what a life under Richard’s control wou
ld be like. Sitting around just waiting for him to come and pleasure me. Not having to worry about school or a job. Always having pretty couture gowns and jewelry. I bet he even had one of those gorgeous English estates out in the country. It would be like living inside a Victorian movie.
The idea was tempting, but it wasn’t like he had actually offered any of that. No, he had just ordered me to stop attending school. Easy for him to say; they probably wouldn’t even give me my tuition back.
Collecting all the scraps of cardboard, I shoved them into the empty cup and rose to throw it away before returning to the table to grab my messenger bag. Tilting my chin up, I strode through the door, across the street, and stopped dead just outside the university grounds.
Dammit.
Looking around, I tried to spy Richard in every man in a suit who crossed my path. Strangely enough, it felt almost as if he were watching right now. Waiting for me to screw up and walk into that school, so he could drag me out and punish me for disobeying him.
Was it fucked up I was actually turned on by the idea?
I wondered if he’d sling me over his shoulder. Or just drag me out by my hair.
Jesus, I needed help.
This guy had me all turned around. I no longer knew myself or what I was capable of. Worse than all of that, I think I had truly gone and done the unforgivable.
I had fallen in love with him.
It was too soon. I barely knew him and quite frankly he kind of scared the hell out of me, but there was no denying I was in love with the man.
He was handsome, intelligent, cultured, and exciting. The way he just screamed arrogance and power, as if the whole world was expected to bow at his feet, myself included, was a huge turn-on for me.
And his penchant for games, which didn’t just nudge but shoved me out of my comfort zone, those were half of his appeal. My life had been boring and routine before him. Now it was thrilling and scary.
He was a rollercoaster ride. That was it! A rollercoaster ride. One minute you’re screaming in fear, the next in joy, and the next you’re eagerly anticipating the drop. It was a strange kind of exhilarating fear. You both hated and loved the feeling all at once. That was what it was like to be with a man like Richard. Anticipating the sharp drop, which was then quickly followed by a frenetic rush around a bend only to calm before the next drop. No matter how frightening it got, the moment you got off you wanted to hop back on and do it all over again.
But I had to ask myself, did loving him mean I had to surrender everything to him? Something told me what Richard’s answer would be, but what was mine?
Maybe insisting on going to school and pushing it a little further and insisting on auditioning for that play was a way to still keep some of my independence. My way of making sure he didn’t swallow me whole. I had a feeling being with a man like Richard, it would be very easy to lose yourself and just become consumed by everything that was him. What he wanted, needed, and demanded of you, becoming the center of your world.
Did I want that for myself?
As I stood there in indecision, a woman approached from the right. She was stunning. With shoulder-length, icy blonde hair and wearing a Max Mara trench coat and Gucci boots, I assumed she was a fashion designer visiting the school or perhaps a model coming in for a fitting. As she got closer, I figured she was going to ask directions to a particular building or classroom so it came as a great shock when she hauled off and slapped me across the face.
Crying out, my hand went my sore cheek.
“What the hell?” I yelled as I started to back away.
“Bitch. You think you can take him from me?”
Frantically, looking left to right, I searched for help but the small side street was mostly empty since all the students had raced into the building to make the start of the next class.
Holding up my hand to try to ward her off, I exclaimed, “Look. I think there is some mistake.”
“He’s mine. Mine!” she raged as her fingers curled into claws. She lunged at me.
Holding up my bag to block her, I didn’t see the men approach till they hauled her off me.
Looking around, I saw we were surrounded by five men. Some in suits, other in regular street clothes. Two of them had the strange woman by the shoulders and were dragging her away. Spit flew from her mouth as she screamed, “Stupid bitch!”
My cheek throbbed as I opened my mouth and moved my jaw from side to side.
The woman continued to scream as the men struggled to keep her restrained. “I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you. No one tosses me aside. Do you hear me, bitch? He’ll be back!” The mysterious men pushed her into a car but not before she yelled, “You don’t deserve him!”
As I was testing to see if my jaw was broken and trying to make sense of what just happened, a hand closed around my upper arm. Closing my eyes, I braced for the glare of a pair of angry blue eyes.
“You need to come with me,” said an unfamiliar voice.
My eyes flew open. One of the men in suits was towering over me, not Richard. I pulled at my arm, but his grip stayed firm.
“Get off me!”
A black sedan screeched up to the curb and the man began to drag me toward the car as another man in regular clothes opened the back door.
“Get off me! Let me go! Help!” Dragging my feet, I pummeled him around the head and shoulders with my bag till someone ripped it from my hand.
“Get in the car.” He grabbed at both my elbows, pulling my arms painfully back.
“No! Get off me!” Desperately, I kicked out as I was then lifted around the waist and shoved into the backseat.
“Careful! We’ll catch hell if we don’t bring her in unmarked,” called one of the men in regular clothes to the man in the suit who was manhandling me.
What?
The door slammed shut in my face. Yanking on the handle, I continued to scream and shout, “Let me out of here! Help! Help!” Sliding to the other side, I tried the driver side door. It was also securely locked.
Turning to accost the driver, I realized there was a solid black divider between the back and front seat. Just because I couldn’t see him didn’t mean the driver wasn’t there. Curling my hands into fists, I pounded on the glass. “This is kidnapping! Let me go!”
My body was pitched backwards as the car sped forward. Through the tinted windows I could see crowded London streets streaming by, yet no one turned at my screams. Undeterred, I continued to pound on the windows, even leaning back and striking at them with the three-inch quarter heels of my ankle boots.
Desperately, I flattened my palms on the glass and tried to get my bearings. Fuck! I didn’t know London well enough yet to figure out where I was, especially since most of the time I used the underground not the city streets to get where I wanted to go. They had my purse with my mobile, so I had no way to contact anyone or check a map. All I could see was a mixture of old and new grey buildings dotted with the occasional Tudor-looking pub as we raced by.
Having no other recourse, I crouched low in the foot well behind the passenger seat. Bringing my knees up to my chest, I tried to calm my beating heart. I had no way to contact anyone for help or call the police.
Truly, there was only one person I wanted to contact. Richard.
What if these men were enemies of his? He was a rich and powerful man; I could only assume he had enemies. Maybe that was why he was so concerned about me still going to school? Was he worried I might become a target because of him?
And who was that woman?
Hugging my knees tighter to my chest, I started to cry.
I needed Richard.
Chapter 18
Lizzie
When the car came to a sudden stop, I scrambled out of the foot well. Lying back on the seat, I raised my knees up. Holding my breath, my whole body tensed as I waited for the door to open. Straining, I could hear muffled voices just on the other side then they both came into view. It was still the same two men, one in a suit, the other in jeans
and sweater. If I didn’t know better, I would have mistaken him for a student. The latch released. The door swung open.
Waiting till I saw his head duck down to look inside the car, I lashed out, kicking him right in the face.
“Fucking bitch kicked me!” howled the guy in the suit.
I didn’t wait to hear his partner’s response. Hoping one side unlocking meant the other did as well, I flipped onto my stomach and lunged for the other door. Just as my fingertips grazed the cold, smooth metal handle, there was a tug on my leg. Flipping onto my back, I kicked at the hand that had wrapped around my ankle. Trying to use the edge of my heel of my free leg, I drove it again and again, targeting the back of his hand.
“Stop kicking! Goddamn it! Fuck your face, get over here and help me!”
Once more I flipped onto my stomach and then onto my knees as I lunged for the other door. My face hit the leather and I was dragged on my already sore cheek out of the car by both legs.
My struggles were nothing now that they had me out of the car and into an open space. They easily restrained both my arms and lifted me high so my feet weren’t even touching the ground. One had a hand firmly over my mouth. It wouldn’t have mattered. I didn’t see a soul on the street. We were in some extremely posh neighborhood with lots of extravagant, historic period houses and buildings, which had that eerie quiet you often feel in rich neighborhoods, not the sort of place the rabble shuffled about catching trains, smoking, and grabbing fish and chips.
Desperately, I tried to focus on the details of my surroundings, knowing it would be important when I tried to escape. We approached a tall narrow building that almost looked like an old Victorian train station. They boldly took me straight through the front doors. Shocked, I saw one of those cobalt blue shields they put on important historical houses around London, right there to the left of the door.
Former Home of JM Barrie, author of Peter Pan