by J. L. Beck
I know I’m answering my own question, but I need to hear him confess to it. It’s like him admitting it makes it more real, even though the proof is right before my eyes.
When I look away and back to Markus, there is no remorse in his liquid amber eyes. There is, however, cool indifference. I don’t understand. How can he just shoot, kill, and burn someone without caring? Without being eaten up with guilt or pain? He’s someone else entirely, and if I look too closely, I’m afraid of what I’ll find. I’m not cut out to deal with a man like Markus, but what other option do I have?
Without saying a word, he moves again.
I take one more glance at the gray powdery residue in front of me, hoping that this won’t be my fate. I wonder if he would really do it. There is no denying he could but saying and doing are two different things. As we walk, more questions appear in my mind and burn the edge of my tongue while trying to escape.
When we stop again, they pass my lips like word vomit, “Do you kill people often? Do you like it?”
I know I should keep my mouth shut, but I want to know. In my mind, this will all be easier if I see him as a monster instead of a man that makes me melt every time he touches me. Perhaps if I hear him say it, I can convince myself that he made me do all these things.
That he made my body react to his touch, that he made me want him.
Markus looks different in the sun. More human, and less dark growly beast. His dark brown hair shines, and his skin has a soft glow to it. When he turns to me, I almost gasp—the feral look in his eyes takes my breath away.
“You should’ve realized by now that I’m not a good man. I bought you at an auction and killed a man seconds before taking you. Don’t act so surprised. You know I’m a monster, and if it makes it easier for you to sleep at night, I’ll tell you. Yes, I kill often, and yes, sometimes I enjoy it. It comes with the job.”
“What job?” The words squeak past my lips.
Markus’s lip tips up at the side. He’s giving me what most would see as a lopsided grin, but what I see as a sinister smile that hides the devil beneath.
“You’re full of questions, aren’t you?”
“I just want to know more about you,” I confess.
The smile slips off his face as fast as it appeared. Taking two gigantic steps, he stops in front of me. Every part of me says to take a step back, to drop my gaze to the ground and cower like an injured animal at his feet, but I can’t, or maybe I won’t.
Amber pieces of glass shine back at me, and he plucks a strand of hair from my shoulder and rubs it between his fingers, almost as if he’s examining the fragility of it.
“If I wanted you to know things about me, I would tell you. You don’t matter to me. I bought you to fuck you, not to listen to you talk, and certainly not to get to know you.”
I’m not sure why, but his words slice through me, cutting me clean in half. It’s not like I expected him to say he cared or wanted to get to know me. That would be wishful thinking, but at the same time, I guess I expected anything but what he said.
“I’m sorry… I just thought—”
He shakes his head. “Nothing. You thought nothing. The only reason you’re out here now is because I know keeping you in that cell in the basement would break you, and I don’t want you broken, yet. So, while it might seem like I’m being kind, and maybe even sweet…” He leans into my face, and I’m hit with the scent of mint and an undertone of coffee.
My bottom lip trembles and my eyes well with tears.
I will not cry, not in front of him.
He analyzes my face for a moment, dropping the lock of hair before continuing, “I’m not. You’re alive because I want you to be. Your one job is to provide me with a spot to park my dick at night, so don’t get it twisted. My caring for you has everything to do with keeping you alive so I can fuck you and nothing to do with wanting to get to know you. This isn’t going to become anything, and you’ll be lucky if you get out of this unscathed.”
I swallow down the ache that’s forming in my chest. It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t see me as an actual human being. It doesn’t matter than I’m just a warm hole to sink into.
When I finally leave this place and him behind with it, which I will, I won’t even blink. I won’t look back. Markus is a monster, and it’s time I stop trying to make this into a fairytale that it will never be. I need to stop trying to see the good in him, especially when there is none. There is just a massive black hole of nothing where his heart should be.
“If I don’t matter to you, then why did you kill that man the other night? Why didn’t you just let him go?” I fire back. What could possibly be his excuse?
Markus’s nostrils flare, and I swear he wants to murder me. The look in his eyes tells me he’s completely done with my shit. It’s a miracle I’ve made it as long as I have. I’d have run by now, but there’s something I need from him, and also, I don’t want to die.
“I killed him because, one, you’re mine. Two, I paid good money for you, and I don’t plan on wasting that money. Three, you’re fucking mine. He came here, showed up uninvited, intending to get close to you. He’s lucky that death was the only thing he got.” The possessive tone of his voice frightens me.
He really does only see me as an object and not a breathing, living person. Before I can speak another word, he’s stepping closer to me. I shrink back, but there isn’t anywhere to go.
“Let me ask you this. Would you still be speaking the same tune if I allowed him to touch you, hurt you? He could’ve been anyone. Could’ve come here to kill you, to kill us both. You think I’m the darkest monster in the forest?” He lets out a sad chuckle and looks away for a moment before looking back at me, his eyes hazy. “You have yet to see true darkness or pain. Those other girls that were bought at the auction, they’re going through a much worse fate than you ever will. Show some fucking gratefulness.”
My throat tightens, and my heart clenches in my chest at the thought.
Without a doubt, he is right, but I don’t want to admit it. The thought of comparing my situation to there’s… it seems wrong.
I’ve been trying to push away the memory of the other girls, the one who wasn’t sold, the one who was so scared. The one I couldn’t save… I grow silent, and my thoughts fester. I couldn’t save them, just like I can’t save myself.
There is no escaping the situation I’ve put myself in. There is no way out of this mess. I’m at a dead-end road with nowhere to go, and nobody is coming to save me.
10
Markus
As soon as the sun creeps through the blinds, I’m rolling out of bed. Like sleeping beauty, Fallon remains in a deep slumber, her blonde hair splayed out across the pillow, her pink pouty lips formed into almost a permanent frown. A frown I put there.
I want to trace her heart-shaped face with my fingers, to mesmerize the way it looks in this instant. Almost content. When awake, she is wary and afraid. As badly as I want to, I don’t allow myself the opportunity to do that. I’ve got shit to do.
Grabbing my phone from the nightstand, I slip out of the bedroom and into the hall, closing the door behind me softly. Yesterday, I texted Felix the information about Christopher Wheeler, explaining everything I could about this whole fucked up situation. I want to know who sent him and why so I can piece the puzzle of who is looking for her together.
I tell myself I’m doing it to cover my bases, but deep down, I know it’s more than that. I want to know who is looking for her and why? How did they know she was here? Is she in danger from something other than me? Then there is the irrational jealous side of me that wants to know everything about her, so I can kill any fucker that touched her before me.
As if he’s reading my mind, my cell buzzes in my hand, and when I look down, I see restricted flashing across the screen. Only one person calls me restricted.
“You got anything?” I answer gruffly, moving a few steps away from the door. I’m not ready to let Fallon know that
I’m trying to figure out who she really is. She’ll find out when I’m good and ready.
No matter what she tells me, it still feels like she’s hiding something, and I’m going to figure it out for myself.
“Hey, loser, good morning to you too.”
“Cut the shit. This is important, Felix.”
“Yeah, everything you do is important, hotshot. Don’t get your panties in a bunch, let me work at my own pace. I have nothing yet. I didn’t really get the chance to dive into the stuff you sent me. The police are looking for the girl, though. They have no leads, which means whoever found you at that cabin either followed you there or put a tracker on your car.”
“Fuck.” I run a hand through my hair in frustration.
I was so consumed with Fallon last night that I forgot about looking for a tracker. There’s no way I would have missed someone following me all the way out here. It has to be a tracker on the car.
“If I hear anything, I’ll call you. Otherwise, expect to hear something from me soon regarding the information you already sent.” I grind my teeth together with impatience.
I hate waiting, but it is what it is.
“Great, talk later,” I say and end the call.
I don’t even have time to pocket my phone before it’s ringing again. Lucca’s name flashes across the screen. I’m tempted to ignore the call. If Julian needed something, he would call me, so Lucca calling me means that it’s personal.
“What?” I bark into the phone.
“Well, good morning to you too.” His cheery voice filters into my ear.
I should’ve sent his call to voicemail.
“What do you need? I’m assuming it’s not regarding Julian. If he had a problem, he would’ve called me himself.”
“Things are fine with the boss. He’s not the reason that I’m calling.”
“Then why are you calling?” I ask, impatience dripping from each syllable.
A second passes, and then another before he finally speaks, “I need a favor.” The way he asks makes it seem as if he doesn’t want to ask at all.
I tip my head back and look up at the ceiling. “I’m on vacation, Lucca. Can’t your favor wait till I get back?” Whenever it is that I decide to come back.
“Look, I know you’re doing your own thing right now, but I’m holding this fucking place down and what I’m asking is small compared to what you dropped into my fucking lap.”
Asshole. “You’re more than capable of being second in command. Now is your time to prove yourself.”
“I am proving myself, which is why I’m calling you. I need you to go check on someone for me. I would do it myself, but Julian has me on Elena duty and doing a bunch of other shit. The family comes first,” he mutters the last part.
It’s too fucking early to make decisions like this, much less before I’ve had a cup of fucking coffee. Like a bear, I want to growl and tell him to go away, but Lucca is a friend, a brother, and I know he wouldn’t call me if he didn’t absolutely need something.
Men like us don’t call in favors. We don’t ask for help at all, so in a way, he’s allowing me to see his one and only weakness. If I was a betting man, which I am, I’d say it is a woman.
“Who is she?”
Lucca chuckles. “Don’t worry about the specifics. I’ll text you everything.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s a woman, you don’t have to try and cover your ass. I’m not going to tell anyone.” And I won’t. I don’t care what the men do outside of working for Julian; as long as they’re faithful to the family and do their job, we have no problems.
It’s never been in my cards to take a woman, and Lucca has never shown much interest in the whores at the brothel. I suppose I now know why.
“It is, but I don’t want her involved in this life. The person who has been watching her has gone MIA. All I need is for you to check and make sure she’s okay. That’s it. You don’t even have to make it known that you’re there to check on her. In fact, don’t. It’ll be easier if she doesn’t know at all.”
“Does she know you’re watching her, or is this a one-sided thing,” I say, poking fun.
I can practically see the smirk on Lucca’s face when he speaks again.
“She knows. Just wait for the text from me, okay?”
“Sure, ’cause I got nothing better to do with my time than sit around waiting for your ass.”
Laughter echoes through the speaker. “Admit it, you don’t.”
“Whatever.” I shake my head and hang up.
Shoving my phone into the pocket of my sweats, I contemplate going downstairs to make some coffee before waking Fallon but decide to sneak back into the room and check on her. As soon as I open the door and step into the room, I spot a pair of blue eyes staring back at me.
“Good morning,” I greet, walking over to the bed. Again, I tied her hands in front of her body, knowing the position would be the best for her to sleep in, and even though she won’t admit it, I know she’s thankful. As I undo the rope, Fallon watches me cautiously.
“When will I get to sleep without being bound?”
“When I can trust that you won’t try and run or kill me in my sleep,” I respond without so much as a blink. “Which is probably going to be a while.”
“You think after what you said to me the other night, and what happened, I would still run?” Her voice comes out as a whisper, and I can practically see the events from that night playing back in her mind.
I drop the rope onto the bed and reach for her hand, noticing how much smaller it is in mine. The warmth of her touch ripples through me. She doesn’t tug her hand out of my grasp, which surprises me. It’s like she’s accepted this sick fate she’s been given. It’s too bad I don’t quite believe that.
“When faced with a choice, I think you would always choose to run from me. It’s what any logical person would do. Try to escape the monster before the monster gets you. It’s eat or be eaten in my world.”
Fallon nods as if she understands. She doesn’t have the slightest clue, but that lesson is for another day. Right now, I have other plans.
“Take off your clothes,” I order once we’re in the bathroom.
Apprehension flickers in her eyes, and she slowly tugs her hand out of mine and reaches for the nightshirt she is wearing.
“If you want to have sex…” Her cheeks tint red. “I’m still a little sore.”
Her confession makes my cock swell with blood. Of course, she is still sore. I took her like a wild fucking animal, throwing caution completely to the wind. I hadn’t been with a woman in a while, and the women I’m used to fucking are accustomed to that type of sex. The whores in the brothels don’t care if you fuck their ass or pussy. If you take them too roughly or make them bleed. They just care about the cash they get after.
I hate making the comparison, even if it’s just in my head. I paid for both Fallon and the hookers, but Fallon didn’t get the money. She didn’t even do this willingly. She gets nothing in return besides living in a nightmare.
It’s me that’s the same in this comparison.
Paying for flesh. Being selfish, cruel, and uncaring. Even worse, I don’t feel bad about it. The world is unfair. I’m not a good person, and Fallon should know that by now.
“I paid a lot of money to use you wherever I want. If I wanted to worry if someone was sore, I’d get a girlfriend. But hey, if you’re that worried about it, I can use your ass. That hole isn’t sore, is it?”
Fallon’s blue eyes go incredibly wide, and I can almost guarantee she is squeezing her butt cheeks together in anticipation. She opens her mouth to say something, but no words come out. I’m a fucking bastard, but all I can do is chuckle at her response.
She should have it through her thick skull that I don’t give a shit what she thinks or how she feels, but she doesn’t. She still thinks there is some good in me, even after I killed the guy in front of her.
“Take your clothes off, or I’ll do it for you,” I
repeat.
My words snap her out of her shocked state, and she springs into action, pulling her shirt and sleeping shorts off. I take a moment to gawk at her naked body—perky tits with dusky pink nipples, my gaze trails down to a smooth belly and over her hips. My gaze lingers on the faint bruises along her hips, yellow and green colored…bruises I put there.
It shouldn’t fucking bother me that I bruised her flesh or hurt her in any way. She’s mine to do whatever I want with, but it does, it fucking does, and I hate admitting it.
Turning my back to her, I twist the knobs and turn on the shower. I wait a few seconds for the water to get hot before I motion for her to get in. She steps under the spray while watching me out of the corner of her eye. I can only imagine what she is thinking right now.
Probably worried that I’m going to fuck her again.
Stripping out of my own clothing, I join her in the shower. Her entire body tenses, and even more so when my steel hard cock brushes against the swell of her perfectly-shaped ass. I want her, crave her body, and it doesn’t help matters when she looks like the one and only person I’ve ever let down in my life.
“Relax,” I coo into her ear and run my hands over her shoulders, massaging them lightly. “Turn around and close your eyes.”
She moves hesitantly but follows my command. As soon as she is facing me, her eyes flutter shut. I know she’s scared, and she has every right to be, but I want her body to trust me, even if her mind can’t.
I could still fuck her even if she didn’t trust me, but it would be difficult, and I’d rather fuck a woman who wants and craves my touch than cowers and cries every time I come near her.
Grabbing the shower gel, I pour a generous amount into the palm of my hand. Moving my hand over her smooth milky skin, I slowly massage the soap in, working the tension out of her muscles as best I can without hurting her. A soft sigh slips from her mouth, and the sound goes straight to my cock. Almost as if she realizes the effect the sound has on me, she tenses up, and her eyes pop open.