I gasped as he pressed and dragged the knife down. The warm release that traveled across my skin had me closing my eyes. The tears that flowed and the sounds that came out of my mouth were barely heard as I concentrated more on the weight that left. Already, I was feeling so much better. Lighter. Less weak.
“Open your fucking eyes. You don’t get to enjoy the high you’re feeling. When I said you were in trouble, I meant it. Look into my eyes, Kaitlyn, and listen close. You’re back in restraints until I say otherwise. You will not eat until I feed you. All your privileges are gone.”
My jaw dropped. “Restraints?” I pushed up, trying to scramble to the other side of the bar. Blake didn’t even let me move a fraction of an inch before he was carrying me to the room that held all of his toys. The…cuffs. I battled whether to fight him or accept what I had coming. I had messed up. Hid my need from him when he’d only wanted to help me from the beginning. Or cut me for his pleasure. Either way, I knew what I had done was wrong.
“Not the cuffs,” I begged as he threw the door open. “Please. Sir. It won’t happen again.”
Blake placed me on the ground beneath the one thing I didn’t want. “Lift your hands.”
The need to plead rested on my tongue. It was one thing to be in them when pleasure was coming, but for punishment without a time limit…it sparked true fear. His mouth opened and my hands shot up despite being afraid. I’d do this and pay for my crime.
A pout came to my lip when he didn’t say good girl. I hadn’t known how much I looked forward to it until that moment. Even more shame took over and I lowered my head while he fastened the buckles.
The instant they were done, he turned his back on me and walked to the far end of the room. As he opened what I assumed was the closet door, I looked on curiously. My feet began inching back and the chains pulled at my arms as I saw the whip in his hand.
“No.” I shook my head back and forth. “No. Please. I’m sorry. Please?”
Leather dropped at my feet and I moved away from it like it was a poisonous snake.
“Think about what you did and the difference between your life now and your life a month ago. Not before you were taken. That part’s over with. Only then and now.”
With that, Blake left the room, slamming the door behind him. The light was drowned out and the outline of the whip was nothing but a dark coiled shadow taking on the real appearance of a snake. One that had a bite worse than the real thing. Heavy panting left me lightheaded. Wet strands of my hair hung over my chest and I could still feel beads of water littering my body. The mix between cold and a state of terror mingled amongst each other, causing me to shake worse than I ever had before.
“It’s not real. It can’t hurt me anymore.” I sniffled as I kicked at it. I wasn’t close enough to budge the damn thing. “Andon is dead. I killed him myself. No more fear. No more fear.” I pulled harder on the restraints, trying to get away. My mind told me to scream for Blake to help me. To forgive me. That I wouldn’t disobey him again, but I couldn’t. I had to face this on my own.
The muscles ached in my shoulders as I took a step, hearing myself whimper. Flashes of the cement walls blinded me. Whack! The crack of the whip exploded in my ears and I squeezed my eyes shut. “No!”
Sweat began to mix with the drops of water while I tried to breathe. Such beautiful skin you have, zvezda moya. The masked face was suddenly right before my eyes and I felt myself become frozen to the spot.
“It’s not real. This isn’t real.” Light shining from under the door grabbed my attention and I focused on it like an anchor. Again, I heard my voice. “Walk forward, Kaitlyn. Don’t look down and just kick the damn thing. It can’t hurt you. No one can. Save yourself, dammit.”
My legs trembled as I took a step. The warmth of blood running down my chest suddenly registered and I used it to keep my attention focused. Anything was better than facing the one thing that scared me the most. The whip. It was the last thing I hadn’t faced from my slavery and the impact it had on me outweighed all the others. If I should have been afraid of anything, it should have been the knife…but I wasn’t. Time under the whip was more excruciating than a few seconds of being cut with the blade.
The carpet sank between my toes, igniting a sudden hypersensitivity. I recoiled, trying to get a grip. The agonizing, pitiful sound that left my lips could have raked the flesh from my bones considering how impactful it was on my psyche. Had that just come from me? I was truly this afraid of braided leather? Who the fuck was I to let an object on the floor spark such terror?
From nowhere, courage sent my adrenaline surging and I raced forward kicking the whip across the room. Stabbing sensations erupted through my arms at the pull, but I felt nothing but satisfaction. My body sagged against the relief of banishing the whip further into the shadows where I could no longer see it.
The sounds of my deep breathing filled my ears and I listened to it for so long that it eventually returned back to normal. Still, Blake didn’t come. What felt like hours passed and my legs shook from holding my weight. The light disappeared forever ago and I stood in the pitch black with nothing but my own mind. The betrayer of the real Kaitlyn.
Heaviness pulled at my lids and I rested my eyes for brief periods. My swaying body awoke me more than once. My arms felt dead. Lifeless. Cold. Growling from my starving stomach sporadically kept me company. How long had it been? Was Blake even still here? What if he’d left to run some errand and something happened?
The thought made me sick. Not because I’d rot in this room before someone found me, but because even though he’d done this to me, the realization that he wouldn’t be in my life anymore was too much to bear. Who would guide me? Make me face my fears? I should have hated him, yet I didn’t. I respected him. Maybe because he gave a shit enough to make me face the whip. Or, because he had made love to me when I thought him incapable of showing that sort of care or emotion. Hell…I swallowed hard, trying to process what my mind was clearly showing me.
Was it possible I didn’t view Blake as my crutch anymore, but more as a possible…partner? Like a boyfriend or significant other? I wasn’t going through this because I was afraid he’d send me home. I was hanging from these cuffs because he was my Master and I knew what I’d done came with consequences. I accepted that from a man who I wanted in my life by choice. Not need. Not anymore.
My head snapped to the door. I could leave if I wanted to. It would be hard as fuck, but I could do it. The cutting was a setback. An overwhelming release that needed to come, but I’d had those my whole life. The episode hadn’t changed anything in the weak-versus-strong book I kept logged in my head.
“Oh my God.” I laughed, more out of need to hear sound than actual emotion. Perhaps I was starting to lose it after all the hours I’d been in here. Or, possibly, all the time I’d spent alone, unraveling the bullshit I didn’t want to face was exactly what needed to happen from the start.
Light suddenly appeared from under the door. The muscles in my neck ached and I swayed, barely catching myself against my numbing legs. The door swung open and Blake’s massive form was nothing but a dark silhouette. My eyes squinted while he began to walk forward. My realization combined with him standing in the room was so intimidating. Our eyes connected as he became visible and mine instantly lowered. I couldn’t keep contact. Not after what I’d done. What we’d shared. How I’d been this whole time. I was ashamed of myself. Of my outbursts and tantrums.
The moment the cuffs were undone, my legs locked. If it wasn’t for his hands bracing against my ribs at the last second, I would have collapsed. I gripped his biceps, only to let go. A sound left my lips as I bent my knees and managed to ease down. I’d kneel, if it was the last thing I did. Shame resurfaced and I projected it through my hands as I gripped to his thigh and buried my face against his jeans.
“I’m sorry, Sir. It won’t happen again.” Although my eyes burned, I held in the tears. No more crying. This was the beginning of something new with
Blake. I’d follow his lead. He was my Sir, my healer, my teacher. I’d be stupid not to learn from this lesson. From him.
“I’m not here to save you, Kaitlyn.” The deep tone of his voice soothed me and I hugged tighter to his leg for the briefest moment before he pulled me away, picked me up, and began carrying me to the guest restroom.
Slowly, my eyes rose to meet his. “I don’t need saving, Sir. I need strength. Give it to me any way you feel is fitting.” I lowered my gaze as he placed me down by the counter.
“You don’t have to worry about that. I will. Now, hurry and make it quick. I’ll wait.”
I nodded and forced my legs to work as I shut the door. The light was blinding and I tried to ignore my appearance in the mirror. The seat was cold and I pushed away the uncomfortable sensation of Blake standing outside. My body was covered in needles and growing worse by the second. I flushed and washed my hands. Blood was dried all the way to my lower stomach and even smeared a little on my thigh. It looked as if I’d been a victim of some brutal attack, but it was far from the truth. I opened the door, glancing at Blake.
“Back to the room.” He gestured and I reached to the wall for support. So much for him carrying me back. Each time my foot rose to take another step, my knees wobbled. I was halfway down the hall when my legs gave out. Damn the running. If we hadn’t done that mile and a half, I probably would have been able to stand through my punishment.
“Crawl if you have to. Come on. I have stuff I need to do.”
Pushing myself up was the hardest. My arms were dead and nothing was responding the way I wanted. Somehow, I managed to stand and make it back to the door before I collapsed again. Getting to the bed took longer than I wanted, but I did it. Blake never said a word as he watched. The moment I was under the covers, still bloody, he left, shutting the door behind him. I was back to the dark. A place I was sure I was going to learn to get used to real fast.
This was not going to be a one night punishment. I knew that all the way into my bones. The dread that ate its way into my soul sent premonitions of impending hardship. Days of nonstop work and restraints. Blake was going to try to break me. I wasn’t sure how, but I knew it. My pampered, tantrum throwing days were over. I was a slave in every sense of the word. Except, this time, I wanted to choose it. I wanted to prove to him and myself that I wasn’t who I’d become. The whip had been at my feet and I’d taken the step to kick it away. I could have screamed for my Master. Begged him to save me, to take it away. Yet, I didn’t. It was the first step in several more I needed to take, but I could do it. For the first time since I’d been sold, I believed in myself. Blake had done that. What else could he do to help me? I wasn’t sure, but I was ready to find out.
Chapter 13
Blake
Conflicted. I felt it in every fiber of my being. The good part of me feared for the stability of my slave’s mind. I couldn’t read her. She was too compliant. Too strong for nine hours of isolation. Kaitlyn should have been angry. Crying. Something. But she wasn’t. She reminded me of an obedient shell. Had I gone too far? Left her tied up for far too long in the dark with her biggest fear?
A part of me felt justified. She’d pissed me off, going behind my back to cut herself. Why couldn’t she come to me? Ask me to help her? Had we been through nothing the whole time we were together? Had I not opened myself to her and given her a gift not hours before that I’d never given anyone? Why the lapse into wanting to cut herself? The run? No. Whatever had set her off was rooted in long before the she woke up this morning.
My knuckles were white from gripping the counter so hard. The dark marble should have had a permanent imprint for all the holding on I’d done over the day. If she knew how many times I’d started for that door just to rip her up, tear into her ass with my belt, she’d thank God I made her hang from the cuffs. The physical pain she would have had to endure would be more than she could take, that was for sure. The spankings would have to wait until tomorrow when I was cooled off enough to know I wouldn’t go overboard. Dammit, that woman ticked me off. I thought I had everything figured out. I was wrong.
The sound of my phone had me angrily ripping it up from the counter. Jack’s number appeared on the Caller ID and I hit the button to accept it.
“You’re either falling behind or getting old. Pick one.”
“Old. I’m not even going to lie.” Jack’s laugh made the edge of my mouth rise. Well, that was a good sign, I could use some change of mood.
“So, what’s the word? You hear anything back on that phone number? I checked the IP address, nothing worth celebrating over.”
Wind whipped through the phone letting me know he was outside. My eyes went to the window. The sun had just recently set after seven. I’d watched as the light disappeared from the opened blinds. Now all I could see was my own reflection, and it wasn’t flattering. Damn hair. It was crazier than I’d ever seen it over the years. I was sure that no strands were pointing in the same direction. Kaitlyn was going to end up making me cut it all off if she kept this up.
“The phone’s a prepaid. Can’t get nothing out of it. Sorry, my friend. Any new emails in Kaitlyn’s account?”
“No. I checked earlier. Maybe I’ll call the number again and this time he’ll answer. He only gave her a few days. Not a specific one, so that tells me he’s somewhat open to negotiation.”
Jack made a sound. “Sounds like an amateur, or someone desperate for cash. Try that number and let me know something. I gotta go. I’m on my way to a gang shooting. Keep me updated.”
“You bet.” I hung up the phone. I didn’t tell Jack that I’d been stalking her inbox like a mad man every chance I got. I’d even checked it before I found her trying to take apart that God damn razor.
The scent of chicken filled the air and I looked at the timer. Fifteen more minutes. Just enough time to make good on what I’d told my partner and see if this motherfucker answered. He hadn’t yesterday. I wasn’t so sure he would tonight. If he wanted the money that bad, wouldn’t he just call her? He had my number, not that I necessarily liked that. A blackmailer having personal information was never a good thing. Not that he’d have it for long. California was in my future at some point, and I’d find him, whether he ever answered the damn phone or not.
I hit the number in my history and waited as it rang. Voicemail clicked on and I narrowed my eyes. I’d yet to leave a message. Maybe I should. The beep sounded and my hand went back to the counter. “This is Blake Morgan. I believe I have something you want. Call me.”
There, maybe that would catch his attention. I hung up and slid the phone across the counter. A ring filled the air before I could turn to stir the side dishes for my and Kaitlyn’s meal. Bingo.
“Morgan.”
A laugh filled my ear and I instantly hated the tone of his voice. Deep. Smooth. “Mr. Morgan. So glad to finally talk with you. I see Miss Summers has finally confided in you about her issue.”
“Not really a problem, I’d say.”
“So, you’re going to pay?”
I laughed. “I didn’t say that. I simply meant that I didn’t see you blackmailing her as a problem.”
The amusement left his tone. “Maybe you don’t understand how this is going to ruin her career. Drugs aren’t taken lightly in the public eye.”
“Cut the shit. Almost all models do something these days and everyone knows it. If they don’t, they’re one of the fortunate few.” I paused. “You know what, Mr...I’m sorry I didn’t get your name.”
“Call me Mr. X.”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, Mr. X. Let me let you in on a little secret. I truly don’t give a shit about those pictures. Neither does Kaitlyn. But for the sake of the argument, if I did try to keep you from throwing her career in the gutter, what would you suggest I do? How would you want your money?”
“Now we’re talking.” The sound of music played lightly and I soaked it in, recognizing it as a club mix. Techno. I’d have to remember that. How old was thi
s guy? He didn’t sound older than forty, but I could have been wrong. Where was he to have the music so muffled? An office in the back? There was too much bass for it to be in a home, in my opinion. “Kaitlyn has to deliver me the money, personally. I don’t want you within a five mile radius. You, Mr. Morgan, are not to be trusted.”
A smile came to my face. “Now, why would you think that?”
“You’re quite the enigma. For me to say that means I can’t get much information on you. That throws red flags. I can get anything I want. Who protects you, Mr. Morgan? Why? I have to admit, you’ve piqued my interest. For you, that might not be a good thing.”
“Are you fucking threatening me? God, please say you are.” My voice practically purred as my darkness surfaced. “Not that I really needed a reason to begin with, but enlighten me. Let’s play this game. I think it’ll be fun.”
Silence, then something metal clicked. My eyes narrowed. “Come on, Mr. X. Don’t chicken out now. We were having so much fun.”
More metal and then what sounded like a car door. “You like games, Mr. Morgan?”
“I do.”
An engine turned over, louder than most. I knew that sound. Fancy sports car. Expensive.
“This was never about the money, was it?” I wasn’t sure how I suddenly knew, but I did. This man didn’t need it. His amusement was something altogether sicker. More twisted. How did Kaitlyn fall into this mess?
“Oh, I love money. You can never have too much of that. I still want yours, but now I want more. Five million. Kaitlyn appears at the place of my choosing and waits under my guard while you transfer the funds. You show up anywhere near where we are, I’ll sell her again.”
The line went dead and I tossed my phone on the counter letting the shock filter through. Fuck that, motherfucker. He was so dead. I’d underestimated him, thinking he was some low life, scum paparazzi, desperate for cash. No. This was a man of means. He’d gotten rid of her before, for some reason only known to him. Now, it was up to me to discover why.
BLAKE: Captive to the Dark Page 16