by J. L. Beck
“Fallon,” she whispers, almost inaudible.
“I already know that. What’s your last name?”
I need to make sure she’s not related to Victoria before I let this go any further.
“Brice,” she says hesitantly.
Brice… I tap my fingers against the steering wheel. I’ve never heard of anyone by that last name before, but I’ll still have someone look into her when we get to the safe house. I have to be sure. I know just the person to do that.
Although, I’m sure my brother will not be happy that I’m contacting him for a favor.
I think further on questions I should ask her like this is a fucking date, and I didn’t just pay one million dollars for her body.
“Where are you from, Fallon?”
“Sun Valley.” She doesn’t offer any more than the bare minimum.
“Have you always lived there?”
“Yes.” A second passes, and then she asks the question that dooms both of us. “What are you going to do to me?”
Gripping the steering wheel a little tighter, I grit my teeth and answer her truthfully.
“I don’t know yet.”
I just don’t fucking know…
3
Fallon
Fear zips through me and down my spine with the intensity of a lightning bolt.
“I don’t know yet.” That singular statement sets me off and straight into a full-blown panic attack.
He doesn’t know what he’s going to do to me? It doesn’t matter that he saved me from that man back there. He doomed me to a much worse fate when he bid on me and won.
With my eyes squeezed shut, I try to focus on my breathing. It’s much harder than one would think, though, given my circumstances.
As I lie here in the backseat, every bump we drive over pushes my face further into the seat. My arms throb, and my cheek hurts as it rubs against the leather.
I think about my situation. I don’t have to know this man to know he is bad. I can feel it. The darkness rushes off of him in waves, leaving everything in ruins when it’s gone. That’s the aura he gives off, and the way he looked at me before pulling me off the ground and away from that man. A man he killed with his bare hands without blinking or showing a shred of remorse, I shiver at the reminder. Sure, I would’ve wanted that sick bastard of a man to die anyway, but the way he did it without a care, like he was tying his shoes. It told me everything I needed to know about him.
I won’t lie. For a moment, I felt there might be some good in him. The way he looked at me when I was struggling to breathe. It was almost as if he had a heart, like he was more than what everyone around him saw.
There was a sliver of compassion in his gaze for me, concern… or so I thought.
Then he opened his mouth and voiced that his only concern was for his purchase not to be damaged. I realized quickly that I was his property, nothing more, and I needed to keep that fact in mind. He wasn’t saving me, and he didn’t buy me just to let me go. He was going to use me, hurt me, and there was nothing I could do about it.
After what seems like an eternity, we turn onto what has to be a dirt road. The car shakes as the tires move over the uneven gravel. The restraints dig into my skin, especially around my neck, and I can’t stifle a groan much longer.
When we finally come to a stop, I’m almost certain some of my skin must be bleeding, or at least it feels like it.
My captor gets out of the car and opens the back door, reaching inside to pull me out. He is not any gentler than he was when he put me in the car, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from crying out in pain.
My limbs are stiff and sore, my wrists are rubbed raw, and my cheek throbs, pulsing with pain as if it has its own heartbeat from that guy hitting me.
He throws me over his shoulder like I’m a sack of potatoes and carries me into the house. It’s probably of no use for me to look around, to take in the location I’m at, but the part of me that wants to escape him, run away and be free tells me to, so I do.
Lifting my head, I take in my surroundings as much as I can.
Trees. All I see are trees, no matter what direction I look. I have no idea where we are, but clearly, it’s somewhere secluded. Mountains are a short way off in the distance, the setting sun making it hard for me to make out all that is around me.
Stopping on the porch, he fumbles with the key. The door creaks open a second later, and then he walks inside the house. The light flicks on, illuminating the area. Even though the brightness hurts my eyes, I open them. I need to see where he’s taking me even if there isn’t any way to stop it.
Craning my head back as far as I can, I scan the area.
We’ve entered the living room. To my right are two large couches angled in front of a fireplace. My head moves on a swivel as I dart to look left and find a modern looking kitchen with a dining area attached.
Everything is clean and decorated nicely with a rustic flair that reminds me of the inside of a cabin. Maybe that’s what this is. I didn’t get a chance to see much of the outside of the house with it being dark and all. A secluded cabin on the side of a mountain makes sense.
I tuck my head against his back as he takes me up a set of stairs, his feet slapping against the wood. It feels like I’m being carried to my funeral because, in a matter of minutes, a part of me is going to die.
He is going to rape me. Which is scary for more than one reason.
The auctioneer announced I was a virgin, which I’m not. It hits me then, paralyzing fear.
What if he realizes that and gets angry? It’s not my fault the guy who kidnapped me lied, but I’m the only one here, the only one he can let his anger out on.
He drops me unceremoniously onto the bed.
I land on my side and bounce against the soft mattress. I can’t even enjoy the softness beneath my body because all I feel is pain. He rolls me over onto my stomach, and I hear him rustling with the key. A moment later, he undoes the chain holding my wrists back. Relieved, I drop my arms down to my sides and let out a soft sigh. “Here is what’s going to happen, Fallon. I’m going to undo the cuffs and the collar around your neck so you can take a shower. If you do anything stupid, I will hurt you. Really hurt you. Not like what that guy did back there, but worse. There is a cold and empty cell in the basement, and I don’t mind putting your nametag on that door. Got it?”
“Got it.” I nod my head yes, savoring the softness of the sheet rubbing against my cheek.
He uncuffs me like promised. Then takes the collar off. I want to rub my skin where the leather and metal used to be, but I force my hands to remain at my sides.
“Get up,” he orders gruffly.
My movements are labored and sluggish, but I manage to stand and turn around slowly. As soon as I do, I wish I hadn’t. He’s standing so close; I can feel the heat of his body like flames licking against my skin. He’s tall, so tall that I have to tilt my head up and back to see his face. His own amber-colored eyes scan my face, almost like he is studying me, analyzing every inch of it.
“What’s your name?” I ask quietly.
He doesn’t say anything for a long time, just stares at me. When I’m certain he isn’t going to answer me at all, he finally says, “Markus.”
All I can do is nod. I don’t know what else I can ask or say. I don’t have to ask the most obvious questions. What do you want with me? Will you let me go? Why me?
I’m not stupid. I can answer those myself.
He wants me for sex. He will not let me go. And he chose me because, from the four girls on that stage, I was the most appealing to him.
“Go take a shower,” he points toward an open door on the other side of the room, “leave the door open, and come out naked when you’re done.”
I swallow down the lump in my throat and give him another small nod before I scurry away and into the bathroom. I almost close the door out of habit but stop myself when my fingers touch the smooth wood. I don’t look back to se
e if he’s watching me, not when I can feel his eyes on me.
Moving out of view, I turn the shower on. While I wait for the water to turn warm, I take in my surroundings. Just like what I’ve seen so far of the house, it’s nice, but nothing fancy. I suppose I expected a man who drops a million dollars in one night to live in a mansion or at least a lavish house.
Which leads me to wonder if this is even his place or someone else’s?
Not knowing what he plans to do with me worries me more than anything. Part of me expected him to screw me in the back of his car. I was shocked when he did nothing of the sort.
When steam starts to fill the room, I step into the shower. Sighing loudly, I forget about Markus, and where I am. I practically melt beneath the spray of the water and take my time washing every inch of my body, trying to get the stink of the auction out of my skin. I wish the soap could wash away the memory of the last couple of days.
I’m a little surprised when after a few minutes, he doesn’t come in to check on me. Then again, where would I escape to anyway?
I finish up my shower and turn off the water. I shiver when my feet make contact with the cold tile and quickly grab a fluffy towel that’s neatly folded on the rack above the toilet. The cotton towel feels like a luxury as I dry myself and wrap the towel around my shivering body. My gaze catches on my reflection in the mirror, and I barely hold back a gasp.
I’ve been through the wringer, yes, but I didn’t think I looked this bad. There are ugly red marks on my throat from the collar and blue handprints around my neck. My cheek doesn’t look much better, swollen, black, and blue. A vein must have popped in my right eye since the white is mostly blood red now. I already don’t look like myself, and I’m sure by the time I leave here, I’ll be a completely different person. If I ever leave.
Blinking away the tears that have formed in my eyes at my own reflection, I force a ragged breath into my lungs—no more tears. Pulling myself together, I walk toward the door.
My steps falter, and I stop in the doorway and find Markus sitting on the edge of the bed. He looks to be lost in thought, probably trying to decide his next move. Looking up from the floor, his gaze collides with mine. It’s intense and all-consuming. The kind of stare that makes you weak in the knees and has you making stupid choices.
Annoyance pinches his brows. “Do you not know how to listen? I said to come out here naked. Does that look naked?” His tone is mocking as he points at my towel-covered body.
Rugged is easily the best way I could describe this man. Dark, disheveled hair and light stubble shadows his angular jaw. He’s definitely handsome, but more in a, I’ll kill you after our date way. I don’t want to cross him, that’s for sure.
“I’m sorry, I was cold.” I drop the towel, and his eyes do a quick once over, stopping on my face and lingering there. I’m not shy about my body, and unbeknownst to him, I’m not that inexperienced either. I’ve been with a couple of guys, though it’s been a while for me.
“Come here,” he commands, and my feet move on their own. I stop right in front of him, but apparently, that’s not close enough. “Closer.”
He spreads his legs and motions for me to step in between them. Stepping forward, my knees hit the edge of the bed. It feels like a trap, one I’ve just walked right into it. Lifting a hand, he ghosts his fingertips over my stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake.
Those same hands travel up to cup each of my breasts, and I’m ashamed when he grazes his thumb over my hard nipple, and I feel a spark of pleasure in my belly. I blame it on nature. My hormones or body don’t understand what kind of man he is; my body is merely reacting to a handsome man touching my naked skin.
“Turn around,” he orders.
I slowly spin around, letting him inspect every inch of my body, knowing that’s exactly what he is doing. After all, he paid for me, so why shouldn’t he? His fingers move shamelessly over my most private parts like he owns them, and I guess in his mind, he does.
“You are beautiful,” he murmurs. “I’m going to enjoy you very much.”
His words make me shiver. I know sex is a part of this. Probably the most prominent part to him and realize he will take it whether I want him to or not, but I’m not ready. Then again, I guess no one can prepare themselves to be raped.
“But not right now. Put these clothes on,” he adds.
For a moment, I think he is joking, but when I turn back around to face him, I find a pair of owl-print pajamas laid out on the bed beside him.
Regardless of this being a trick or not, I don’t want to disobey again.
Something tells me that Markus’s patience is not to be tested. Moving to the side, I lean over and grab the clothes off the bed. Curiosity has me wondering if he usually has women’s clothes lying around. Everything about him and this place is off-putting.
Maybe he brings women up here all the time? My thoughts twist, and soon I’m wondering what he does with the others? If there are even others? Does he sell them? Kill them? Oh god, I’m going down a hole I cannot come back from.
I slip into the cotton pj’s quickly, and for the moment, they make me feel normal again, even though I know for certain all of this is as far from normal as it gets.
Markus pushes off the bed, and the room seems to shrink with his stature. Unconsciously, I take a tiny step back.
“Take the pill and drink at least half of that glass of water.” He points to the nightstand, where I find both. He reminds me of a caveman more and more, ordering and pointing, expecting me to listen to him without question.
“What is—”
“Do it,” he says more sternly this time, his gaze slicing me down the middle.
As badly as I don’t want to take the pill, I know there is no way around this. It’s the pill or something far worse, and I’m not ready to go down that path. I’ll have to pick my battles, and this one isn’t worth fighting over.
Defeated, I pick up the white oval pill and place it against my tongue and swallow it down with nearly the entire glass of water. Markus watches me, a look of satisfaction appearing on his face.
“Now, get on the bed on your knees, and put your hands behind your back.”
I hesitate for a few seconds, but the deep growl rumbling in his chest has my legs moving a second later. I climb on the bed and crawl across it, coming to rest on my knees like he instructed with my hands behind my back. The position is uncomfortable and will make for restless sleeping, but again it’s this or… I think back to what he said in the car—a dark, cold cell.
The air shifts with every move Markus makes, and I think I could feel him behind me even if I couldn’t hear his footsteps approaching. I dare to sneak a peek over my shoulder and find he is holding a rope instead of the chains. That makes me feel a little better.
It might not be comfortable having my hands tied behind my back all night, but it will certainly be better with the rope than metal cuffs, a collar, and chains.
“Eyes to the front,” he barks when he notices I’m watching, and my head snaps back like my body is already used to being ordered around.
He wraps the rope around my wrists a few times, looping it in between, and then he tightens it somehow. The rope digs into my already tender flesh, but I bite my tongue to prevent the groan from escaping. This is not the time to complain.
I need to be smart about this. I need to make sure I don’t anger or annoy him. And most importantly, I need to earn his trust. That’s my only chance of getting out of here.
He latches onto my upper arms from behind and lowers me to the mattress, so my head is on the pillow, and I’m lying on my side.
A moment later, the light turns off, and the room descends into complete darkness. Panic seizes me the second the space goes dark. My eyes are wide open, but I can’t see a thing. In a flash, I’m back in that cell… alone, and cold, so fucking cold. My heart races as I hear Markus move around the room. Somehow, his presence is the only thing keeping me from going off the
cliff and diving headfirst into a panic attack.
The bed dips, and I can feel him climbing into bed, lying down in the spot next to me.
Our bodies aren’t touching, but I can still feel him, his body heat radiating toward me. I can smell the thick manly scent of his cologne and hear the even rhythm of his breathing.
I’m not alone. I’m not in the cell. I keep telling myself until I’m calm again. Ironically, I’m not much safer now, but somehow it feels safer. I guess after being isolated and alone, even the company of a criminal is better than nothing.
Wiggling my body a few inches, I try to get comfortable enough to go to sleep, but the movement only makes it worse. I wonder if he would consider restraining me in a different way?
“Is there any way you could loosen the rope?” I ask before I can stop myself.
“No,” he answers gruffly.
A moment of silence passes between us, and another million-dollar question is burning on the edge of my tongue. Like the idiot I am, I ask, “Don’t you want… you know, to have sex?”
He sighs, almost as if he’s annoyed by my presence, which makes no sense to me. He bought me to have me here, and yet he is annoyed that I’m speaking or even alive, it seems.
“Not tonight, but don’t worry, soon you’ll be on your back, begging and pleading for me to stop. Now, if you’re smart, you’ll shut up and go to sleep.”
I don’t ask any more dumb questions after that. My eyes drift closed, and I force myself to go to sleep. I’m tired, exhausted as hell. Problem is, I’m too damn uncomfortable and scared to even think about sleeping.
Minutes pass slowly, and I’m about to beg him to untie me, anything to ease the ache in my shoulders, but I don’t.
That thought is slowly being washed away and replaced by a warm fuzzy feeling spreading through my veins. The pain in my limbs eases, slowly seeping out like venom until it’s completely gone. Weightless like a cloud, I think my body might float away into the night sky. Only for a brief moment do I realize I shouldn’t be feeling this way.