Flawed

by Francette Phal

  I’ve never felt him move so fast as when he pulls himself away from me. Wincing at the sound of his roughened curse, I hold in my whimper when he pulls the gun from in between my legs and throws it to the floor like it’s a toy, like it’s not a weapon of absolute destruction. He tugs me to a sitting position, takes hold of my jaw, prying my lips open before angling his head and ravaging my mouth. He spears past my lips, searching deep and hungrily, the aggression tunneling through him spills into the heat of the kiss and I taste it, taste the fury in the angry friction of his lips but I can’t decipher any of it, can’t understand the reason behind it because he doesn’t give me a chance to. When I reach up with my hands to touch him, to help ease the tension, he’s already gone, standing a small distance away. This is not like him.

  When I look at him, I can see the battle waging inside him. His fists are clenched at his sides, the dark shadow of his jaw moving from the gnashing of his teeth. The tempest raging in him darkens his expression until he becomes unrecognizable. He’s like a caged animal, and there’s a rawness about his stiff frame, about his stance that’s a clear warning to not approach. But drawn like the proverbial moth to the flicker of his overpowering flame, I rise from the bed and slowly make my way to him.

  “Knox…”

  He rakes a hand through his hair in frustration and rage, as if in pain. “Don’t!” he lashes out in a roar, catching my hand when I move to touch him. I step back, the heat of the blow stinging my hand. I bring my shaky fingers to my throbbing palm and sniffle twice as I tremble, trying to hold back the tears. I hate what I’ve become. A victim working to appease her abuser, all the while anticipating his wrath and basking in what crumbs of affection he might deign to provide. It sickens me, this revolting mental state I’ve spiraled into and yet, given the chance to escape his labyrinth of iniquity, I would not take it.

  Two long strides brings him back to me, he stands at my side and I hold my breath, clenching my eyes shut as I stiffen my body to brace myself for the pain that’s undoubtedly to come. Shock pries my eyes open at the feel of his hand running soothingly through my hair. I swallow hard, blinking rapidly in the stream of silence that falls around us, brimming with stifling tension. I don’t know how long we stay this way, him petting my head, while I helplessly spin in a whirlwind of confusion but the seconds bleed into minutes, and minutes into an eternity in which time stops meaning anything at all. The hand in my hair whispers down to my cheek, his caress feather light, sending flutters to my stomach. There is caution and care in the way he grasps my jaw and lifts my face up to look at him.

  “I…I’m…” I’m not too sure of what he’s going to say when he trails off, but the anguish playing across his face is heartrending. I’ve never seen him so troubled before, so completely at lost for words. He bends slightly at the waist, takes my bruised hand and rubs on it lightly and speaks again. “That…with the gun…I’m…” He stops himself again and heaves a frustrated sigh. “Understand that it had nothing to do with you. And I shouldn’t have slapped your hand away.” The timbre of his voice is low, edged with something I can’t identity. “I will not discuss it further but know that it had nothing to do with you.” He pauses and stares down at my reddened hand with penitence. “Is your hand okay?” he whispers. I nod in reply. Knox is not a man who justifies his actions, let alone shows remorse, and yet he was attempting to apologize and for the time, giving a brief explanation of his actions. He teeters my world further off its axis when he frames my face between his large hands and lightly presses his lips to my forehead in a ghost of a kiss. When he pulls away and our gazes meet, I’m drawn into the vortex again. Awareness passes between us, crackles in the air we share and leaves every hair on my skin standing on end. For one small, breath-halting moment, beyond the veneer he wears so well, I catch a glimpse of the man he keeps from the world. But then the moment shatters and he’s gone, the soft click of his bedroom door confirming his exit and I’m left completely stunned, bursting with questions only he has the answers to.

  ***

  Normal is the furthest thing I can call what we have, but the following morning finds us performing tasks that have become routine. He watches as I shower, feeds me breakfast, and dresses me before driving me to school. My eyes shift to him more than they should on the thirty minute ride to school, but I can’t help it. I know he said he wouldn’t discuss what happened last night and it would be in my best interest not to bring it up but the stubborn part of me can’t let it go. I open my mouth to speak but he beats me to the punch.

  “We’re here.”

  So we are. Tossing a glance out the passenger window, I see the high school’s entrance on my right. It’s still early enough that kids are still loitering on the grounds.

  “Here.” I turn back to look at him, my eyes trailing down to the nondescript black box he holds out to me.

  I frown. “What is it?”

  “Open it.”

  Nervously, I take the box from him and pull back the lid. “You got me a watch?”

  “You seem to have a hard time understanding the concept of time. This watch will help you keep track.” The dryness of his tone could start a forest fire. “You can also text with it. I’ve programmed by cell phone number into it. If you’re going to be late for any reason at all, you will send me a message to let me know why.” Reaching over the shifting gear, he takes the watch from the box and puts it around my left wrist. “You will not take this off under any circumstance. Do you understand?”

  I bite my lower lip before replying with a soft, “Yes.” Caught off guard by the suddenness of the gift, I stare mindlessly down at my wrist. If one doesn’t look too long at it, it can pass for a bracelet with its stainless, glasslike strap. The only thing that gives it away is the round, polished face that lights up when I tap the screen with my right index finger. I want to say thank you, tell him that I’m grateful for his gift, for everything he has done for me. I highly doubt he’ll divulge any further information as to what happened last night so I stay quiet, longingly gazing at his mouth. The soft feel of his lips on my forehead taunted me for the rest of the night and left me craving the sensation of them devouring me whole. I know I should leave now, it’s only going to get more awkward the longer I stay, but I needed to say something. I needed to touch him.

  “Knox…” I don’t know what sort of insanity drives me to do it, but I can’t stop the force that draws me to lean across the gear console and hesitantly press my lips to his. And for a brief mortifying second after, I realize he’s not responding. Just when I move to pull back, his hand shoots beneath the curtain of my hair, fingers firmly cradling my nape so that I remain exactly where he wants me. He teases at my lips, prying them open with the slick invasion of his tongue, his deep rumbling growl a response to my whimper as he tilts my head and pulls me closer. A shudder ripples through me, his overpowering passion stoking a blaze of excitement deep in my belly. He claims me with unrepentant masculine authority, the smoldering fire of his virility pebbling my nipples into rock hard points and liquefying my tender core. My fingers make a desperate grab for his shirt, forming a fist in agonizing need for him to take just a little more of me. Every hungry, penetrating thrust of his tongue demands for submission, asserting his absolute need for control over me and I abandon all self-control and surrender to him, relinquishing all of me in that moment to his mastery. He nips at my lower lip, gliding his tongue across the tender flesh before repeating it again, and when he bites down a little too hard, I moan and he soothes it to perfection before pulling away.

  We breathe together, heavily and fast, the radiating heat of it alive with passion. And I want more of him. He stares down at my flushed face before finally speaking. It’s time for you to go. I’ll see you after school. Don’t make me wait.” It’s said with finality, effectively shattering the effect of seconds ago. .

  Reeling and feeling completely lost, I grit my teeth, hold back my curse long enough for me to hop out of the car, grab my backpack
from where I had it between my legs and slam the door. I’m tempted to kick the side of the car, but I know better. It also helps that he drives away before my anger provokes me to do something stupid.

  The day goes by in a blur. I miss lunch again and skip media class and at this point, I’m sure Tyler knows I’m avoiding him. And maybe he’s gone out of his way to look for me, but I make every effort not to run into him in the hallway by taking the longer way to my classes and hiding out in the library during study hall. I hate dodging him like this but I don’t see any other way around it, not until Knox is done with me anyway. And when he is through with me, I fear my need for him will destroy me. I’m out of the building with the rest of my peers at the sound of the last bell. Once outside, I fight through the crowd at the entrance, my eyes all the while searching the street, looking for the big, black Charger.

  “Lacey, right?” The friendly feminine voice has me turning my head to the right to find a stunning blond-haired woman with a wide, illuminating smile. Everything about her screams money. From her perfectly styled topknot, to the navy blue jacket, opened partially to reveal a set of pearls at her neck, complementing the black and white tweed dress that stops just about her knees. Her black, round-toed stilettos finished off the look of sophistication.

  “I’m sorry…do I know you?”

  She rolls her eyes and sighs, “Of course, he never mentioned me. That’s just like him.” Her smile returns when she extends a delicate well-manicured hand. “I’m Katia, Knox’s adoptive sister.”

  My eyes widen in shock, my jaw practically hitting the floor at her admission. Finally, I get a small piece of the puzzle that is Knox. “It’s nice to meet you,” I say, inanely, taking her hand in a light shake.

  “Yes, it most definitely is. I’m just so glad he asked me to come get you, otherwise, I’m sure we would have probably never met.”

  Puzzled, I ask, “He asked you to come get me?”

  Her smile turns sheepish. “Yes, I kind of volunteered myself. My father had some business he needed Knox for, so I told him I’d come pick you up and drop you off at his loft. He doesn’t speak much, but he’s told me a little about you. I just wanted to finally meet the girl that’s obviously gained his interest.”

  “That’s not what…”

  She laughs. “Well, at least you’re modest. Come on, let’s get out of here. My car is this way.” The black Rolls-Royce Phantom is a behemoth vehicle, and she’s wise in having it chauffeured for her. The expressionless man in the suit holds the door open and Katia lets me go in first before she follows me inside.

  Taking a seat on the rear end of the car, I look to find two men seated across from me. Recognition of one of the men smashes into me like a freight train, sending my mind into a tailspin. Scar face. Why is he here in this car? Recalling the way him and his thug friends beat up Dante causes me to panic. I look around wildly, from Katia seated next to me, back at scar face, who smirks and leers at me from his grotesque face. Dread is a monsoon in my veins at Katia’s sudden unwarranted laughter.

  “That was too fucking easy,” she says, as she accepts a glass of sparkling water from the man next to scar face. “Like a lamb to the slaughter. God, teenagers are so gullible.”

  I don’t understand what’s happening, but every fiber of my being already knows it’s not going to end well for me. “You...who the fuck are you? What do you want?”

  Her eyes meet mine and she smiles in a way I thought to be pleasant a while ago, but now, it sends chills down my spine. “I already have what I want, sweetheart. Knox sold you to me. You are my property now.”

  All color bleeds from my face, my heart wrenches painfully in my chest. “No…he wouldn’t…”

  He wouldn’t. I know he wouldn’t.

  She laughs. “Why? Because you thought you were special? That’s really cute.” Her scathing tone is a downpour of salt on a gaping wound.

  Escape. Without thinking, I turn to the door and yank on the handle, my efforts growing erratic when it remains locked. Desperation and panic form a dangerous cocktail in my system that threatens my mental state. “Let me go…” I turn to her and lunge, but I don’t even get to touch her when I’m yanked back by my hair. I don’t let it stop me as I kick and flail, scratching and gnashing my teeth for something to bite down on.

  “Put her down!”

  That’s the last thing I hear before white-hot pain shatters through my skull, and I lose my desperate grip on consciousness.

  ***

  Darkness. That’s what I wake up to. Pitch-black darkness. I blink and blink again but nothing changes. I can hear myself breathing, can feel the warmth of my ragged breaths ricocheting back to my face. Curled on my side, I attempt to sit up. I can barely do that because the top of my head brushes up against the roof of something, something firm and solid. I can feel the cloying drip of panic seeping into my veins but I refuse to let it take over me just yet. Attempting to control my breathing, I shakily reach my hands out in front of me and my fingers come against the same solid, unyielding surface. It’s beneath me, on the sides too. I’m enclosed in a space barely big enough to hold a small child. That little bit of control I try to wield over my emotions quickly snaps away from me and crushing terror takes its place. The pounding in my head is made worse by the stifling heat and my fear, but the darkness is what gets to me.

  They put me in a box.

  God, I’m in a fucking box!

  “Let me out! Please, let me out!” I scream until my voice is raw, pounding on the walls of the wooden box with my fists. But nothing happens. No one comes. It’s not for a very long time after that I hear muffled voices. I press my ear to the wood, quieting my breathing long enough to hear what they’re saying. Maybe I’ll get an idea of where I am and what they plan to do with me, but I can barely discern what they’re saying through the thickness of the wood that surrounds me.

  “You know, I have to ask. How’d you get him not to meet up with her?”

  “I have a pretty little nurse who’s willing to do just about anything I ask her. I sent her to his flower shop to distract him.”

  “How did you…?”

  “How about you focus on what’s important? I would hate to think I brought you into this business prematurely, Vigo.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “Good. Now follow me, there’s something I need you to look in to for me.”

  “What about her?”

  “Trust me, she’s not going anywhere anytime soon.”

  The voices stop, or rather they become so faint that I can barely even hear them anymore. And then, everything is plunged in silence again, leaving me with nothing but my frantic thoughts. Hot tears gather in my eyes as I pull my knees close to my chest, and I make to rest my head on them but a soft, blue-white light emits from my left wrist. The watch. My heart thudding, I quickly unfasten it from my wrist to have better control of it before I touch my thumb to the screen. My mind is racing. There’s so much I want to type, but only two things resonate clearly in my mind.

  Please don’t let them take me. I belong to you.

  Curling back on my side, I pull my knees to my chest and begin to hum the haunting tune I’ve heard a few times before. Though I haven’t been able to place where I got it from, it plays on a broken loop inside my head, easing the tightness in my chest and lulling me into a false sense of security.

  I know he’ll find me. He has to. I have nothing else. No one else but him.

  Chapter Thirty

  Knox

  One second more was what it would’ve taken to reach over the store counter to disembowel the bitch that walked in complaining about some stupid arrangement she claimed I ruined for her engagement party. Luckily for her, she’d left just as quickly as she’d come, completely oblivious to the fact that she’d been only a second away from choking on her own blood. At the speed I was going, it only took me thirteen minutes to get to Lacey’s school. And imagine my utter annoyance when I didn’t find her waiting for me at th
e front entrance. I jump out of the car and search the school grounds for her, starting everywhere I know she might be. Fifteen minutes later, and she’s nowhere to be found. Walking back to my car, I’m sure of only one thing in that instance. She’s going to pay very dearly for her defiance. I wait around a half hour longer like an idiot and still, she fails to make an appearance. Sliding back into my car, I gun down the street. I break a few traffic laws but getting pulled over by the police is that last thing on my mind. My only objective right now is finding her and putting the fear of obedience back into her delectable little body. And I aim to enjoy it far more than she will.

  With no intention of driving around the city searching for her, I head home. I know the tracking signal on her watch will provide me with her location, the only downside was that it could only be accessed through my laptop. There are really only two places she can be at this point. At her mother’s apartment or at her friend, Tyler’s house. She has no business being at either place, but if for some inexplicable reason she was stupid enough to be at the latter, then there will be hell to pay. I will have her watch me make good on the promise to kill him. Tunnel vision brings me to my building in record time. Pocketing my keys the instant I enter my loft, I keep my jacket on, knowing it will only take me minutes to tap into her location. I make a beeline for the dining table, knowing the laptop is exactly where I left it the night before. While waiting for it to boot up, I slide a hand inside the pocket of my jacket and withdraw my vibrating phone. Annoyance turns into a scowl when I see the message is from her. Sliding my hand over the screen, I open it to read the excuse she believes might get her out of the punishment I have in store for her.

  Please don’t let them take me. I belong to you.