by V. F. Mason
“Listen to me carefully, Sophie. You do not look for her or go around spreading rumors. As far as you know, she went somewhere and you have no idea when she will be back. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“I feel so bad for putting her in this situation. I never wanted for her to hide from those awful drug people because of me. I just thought this job would help us. But she is my friend—”
I cut off this bullshit immediately. “The minute you say a word about this to anyone, the FBI will show up on your doorstep and take you to prison for a very long time. And then no one will be able to protect either of you.” There was a long silence at the other end of the line.
“Promise to take care of her,” she finally replied with a hint of remorse in her tone.
“I promise.” At least she cared enough about her friend. I personally had nothing against her, even though Sapphire, in my opinion, could have used a better friend. However, she could have been a problem, so I had to feed her a bullshit story about drug dealers threatening to kill Sapphire and, as a result, needed to hide and wouldn’t be able to contact her.
“Thank you, even though I’m choosing my own comfort once again over hers. I guess once selfish, always selfish.” She sighed heavily, and a sob could be heard.
“Okay.” Without another word, I hung up and tried to block out the unpleasant images that started to frequent me in the last month. Usually, they didn’t happen as often.
The nightmares.
Sapphire seemed like the only salvation for both of us, and as much as it sucked, she couldn’t have her freedom ever again.
The door swiftly opened to my right, and Sapphire came out wearing jeans, a shirt, and a long black robe, which covered her from head to toe. Her small, soft feet had white socks on.
Beautiful and scared, didn't she know it only highlighted my pleasure?
Sapphire hoped for Dominic to come and save her. What would she do once she learned there never were Damian and Dominic, and all along, she only had me?
“You’ve become too damn old. But you are still a sight for sore eyes,” S said, exhaling smoke as he lay in bed and studied me once I had my clothes on. My body was freshly showered, and my skin was still sore from all the soap scrubbing I had done to remove his scent from me.
Sight for sore eyes.
His favorite phrase, and therefore, the most hated words for me.
The S was a generous lover, if you could call it that. He allowed me to take a shower after him, and even brought some clothes. I was his favorite toy. The minute he saw me all those years ago, he was hooked. He never needed or wanted Dominic, and for that, I was grateful. He was a sick bastard, who was into chains, gagging, and begging. When I was smaller, around ten, I always cried and wept in the shower after his ‘sessions.’ It was useless, but back then, the small kid in me still had hope that someone would come and rescue us.
No one ever came.
So as much as I hated him, I learned to use his gifts wisely. Sometimes, he would give me good food if I asked, or medications. Every cell in my body despised the fucker, and I never asked anything from him for me. But my brother was more important than my pride, or any other fucking emotion I could have felt.
He gave me a onceover, and then put his cigar back to his mouth and raised his brow. He knew I wanted something. Usually I raced from his room, but here I was, standing and getting the courage to ask.
“Can I ask for a favor?” I asked, and he motioned with his head for me to continue. “I need some new blankets and medication, and John doesn’t want to give them.”
“And you think I would?”
Swallowing the bile in my throat, I replied, “Yes.” He exhaled again and removed the bed covers, leaving him naked with his old body in view. My stomach flipped, and with all my strength, I halted the gagging. I knew what was coming, but for him to help me, I couldn't show any emotion on my face.
Of course, he was fucking hard again. After all, he took blue pills.
“Everything has a price in this world, boy. Suck me like you used to, and you can have what you asked for.” He hadn't wanted it for a long time, probably too afraid of me doing something to his dick. But since I had asked for help, he held all the cards.
I hated him. But for my brother, I would do anything.
I went down on my knees and proceeded to pleasure the fucking pervert, who got off quickly. Thank fuck for that. Around the time we turned eleven, I learned to block everything during sex. Horrible things were done to me, but I had retreated so far into myself that it almost felt like I wasn't present during the act. All I did was count in my head, one-by-one, and then I always knew when someone was close to finishing. That was the only thing my mind concentrated on. Giving fucking head to S was not an exception.
When it was finished, I studied my reflection in the mirror after almost making my mouth bleed from brushing it so hard. And I vowed once again to get revenge on every single person responsible for this organization.
No one would be left alive.
Once I was out, John and his people were waiting for me. He looked far from happy.
“You fucking whore,” he grumbled and grabbed me harshly. He kicked me in the stomach, but I didn’t react. He hated it, but he could go fuck himself. “I’ll get those damn blankets and medications. The generous S decided to give you a good Thanksgiving dinner. You must have sucked him really hard.” My expression didn't change one bit, because I didn't give a fuck about his words.
Medication, blankets, and good food meant Dominic had a chance of surviving this.
And it was all that mattered.
Sapphire
“Are you hungry?”
Seriously? Before I could say anything to him, which would have been mean, my stomach growled loudly. I wanted to die of humiliation. My body kept betraying me, no sense of cooperation or teamwork. Damian laughed and my eyes snapped to him. He seemed genuinely amused with me, and that played tricks on my heart.
Get your shit together; you just find him hot. No biggie.
It was easier said than done though.
“Have a seat.”
“You think I’ll eat with you?” He raised his brow in question. “For all I know, you could drug me and have your way when I’m unconscious.” He didn't even blink at my accusation and pointed to the table in the middle of the room that held a Caesar salad and green tea. Apparently, he had done his research well, considering it was one of my favorite dishes. If he thought I’d happily jump to follow his command, he had another thing coming. Tapping my foot loudly, my eyes studied the paintings around the apartment. There were several of them, all done in the same black and white filter, representing dull moments like trees without leaves or rain in the middle of the night. Clearly masterpieces, but those wouldn't be paintings I’d like to have in my house.
Ignoring my statement, he placed his laptop on the table and sat on the couch. His piercing amber eyes focused on me. He brought havoc to my emotions as he spoke. “I don’t really need to drug you for anything, Sapphire. All I need to do is touch you.”
My palms hurt from squeezing my fists so hard that my nails dug into my skin, but I held my tongue. What could I have said to that? I cried out his fucking name when his brother was going down on me. No matter what he thought, I wouldn't give him access to me willingly. However, if I wanted to get the hell out of here, I had to be strong, and for that, I needed food.
My butt settled on the couch, I picked up a fork, and I started eating my dinner. Somehow, I found comfort in the simple act, and before I knew it, my plate was empty and my stomach full. The green tea with mint helped soothe some ache inside me, and the flavor calmed my nerves. We were quiet all this time. He was typing something, and it allowed me to study him for a bit. Damian’s face was completely empty of emotions. His fingers moved flawlessly on the keyboard without him even looking at them. With his silky hair in a bun and glasses on, he would look exactly like Dominic.
“Are you done?
” he said casually, and I jumped in my seat. His voice was loud in the silent room.
I licked my dry lips and asked nervously, “Done with what?”
He smiled, and that put some of the emotions back, although his eyes stayed cold. He shared this quality with Dominic; none of their smiles seemed genuine.
“Staring at me.”
Shit, that sent a blush to my body and cheeks, and it probably wasn’t missed by him. I straightened my spine and raised my brow. “Not really.”
He was slightly taken aback by my attitude, but then, to my complete shock, he went back to what he was doing before, ignoring my comment all together.
“So that’s all?”
He exhaled a heavy breath, shaking his head. “All?”
“No reaction to my comment?”
“What kind of reaction did you expect?” He rubbed his chin with his three-day beard then furrowed his brows. “You weren't done staring, so I gave you the chance to do that. What else do you want?” His questions were valid; in fact, I didn't understand why I was agitating him or talking with him at all. Maybe because he was acting all nice, and that didn't really sit well with me. It was easier when he was an ass, scary, and cold-blooded. Yet here he was, lounging on the couch, doing God knows what on his laptop, and feeding me.
That almost made him human.
And sociopaths weren't humans. They were dangerous killers who needed to be locked up. Or that was what I needed to think in order to not develop any kind of stupid feelings for this man.
“I want the truth. Why do you want me?”
He leaned forward, put his elbows on his knees, and focused on me. I shifted uncomfortably.
“Why not you?”
Were we going to play the question game?
“There is nothing special about me. I’m curvy, short, and, for the last year, poor. I think you have some kind of problem.” Although all those words were true, no matter how much they hurt, a part of me was upset at the idea of him with another woman.
I was going freaking crazy in this place.
The mood in the room changed abruptly to dark and dangerous. In a second, he was in front of me and had picked me up by my throat. It was hard to breathe, so I grabbed his hands holding my neck. He moved his face closer; his lips were a whisper away from mine.
“Never talk about yourself like that. Do you understand?”
With no reaction from me, he squeezed harder, and I nodded rapidly. After a few more moments, he let go of me and stepped back while I tried to catch my breath. My neck itched a little, probably from the bruises his hands would leave.
Damian frowned then ran his finger over it. “My bruises will look good on you,” he said as though imagining what my bruised neck would look like.
I stilled, but for some reason, an odd thrill ran through me, and I wanted to hide away from this feeling. It almost made me as sick as he was, and I couldn't have that. My heart was beating so fast I heard a ringing in my ears. His hand covered my heart and his amber eyes looked into mine.
“Don’t be afraid.” It was a low whisper. He leaned his face forward. His nose was over my head, inhaling, and then he moved it down to my neck and chin. Through all this, I was powerless to stop him. Finally, he lifted up my chin and his lips claimed mine. They were hard, punishing, bruising, and painful.
He dominated my mouth, and he didn’t ask permission. He bit painfully on my lower lip. I gasped, and he used the opportunity to push his tongue roughly into my mouth. I tried to push him away, but one hand grabbed my hair, and the other held my hands behind my back. There was no escaping him. It was hard to enjoy this kiss, because it was meant for claiming, not for pleasure.
But my body reacted to it anyway. I trembled and felt hot inside. I struggled not to react to him anymore, but it was a losing fight. He finally let me go, and our gazes clashed once again. He looked satisfied, but at the same time frustrated, as though he didn’t do what he really wanted.
“Sapphire, my Sapphire,” he said, and then his lips were giving me a gentle, soft, yet passionate kiss. This kiss made my toes curl. My body responded fully to his and I moved closer. He let go of my hands and I put them around his neck, pulling myself closer to him. He was a good kisser, and momentarily, I hated every other woman who had touched him. And that was insane. My nipples puckered. His hands moved lower and pinched them so hard I swayed forward, but he steadied me. His lips moved lower, allowing me to take big gulps of air, and then I felt him sucking on my neck hard, marking me.
“Mine,” he whispered harshly as he bit me lightly. Then he picked me up, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. That brought my breasts higher, and he tugged open my robe and sucked them hard through my shirt, not giving them any mercy. I laced my fingers through his hair and moaned loudly as my head fell back. It was one of the most erotic things that had ever happened to me. He knew how to suck, how to bite, and how much pressure would make me sing. Being in his arms felt so good and so right for some reason. The feeling of belonging was always with Damian. Even that first night in the garden, when we saw each other and the world stopped to exist for us.
Immediately, my mood disappeared and my body stilled. He felt it too.
Sociopath.
What the hell was I doing? I couldn't be doing this with him of all people. He confused me and made me question everything I knew and wanted.
I couldn’t have that.
I couldn't let him do that to me. I struggled to get down, and he let me. I knew it was only because he was allowing me to do whatever I wanted, not because my hard stare or desires mattered. I pushed back from him, took a few steps, and we were once again facing each other. Both of us were breathing heavily, and it was the only sound in the whole damn house. My body was humming, my nipples hurt, and my lips were probably red, swollen, and bruised. The only thought in my mind was that I wanted to experience it all over again, but I knew it was a mistake.
My problem was that I liked and wanted Damian instantly, but then he turned out to be Sociopath. And I couldn’t want such a man.
Never.
“Don’t do that again,” I whispered. My voice was hoarse and trembling. He looked at me softly, but there was no other indication of his feelings at all.
Without another word, he grabbed his laptop and ignored me. It was confusing, and I had to blink several times to be sure he wasn't about to do something. Still trembling, I went back to the room he showed me, got under the covers, and closed my eyes.
I still smelled like him. The smell was easy to recognize. It was manly, heady, and strong. Maybe I should have taken another shower to wash the feel of his lips, his smell, and the memories away. But I was tired and wanted to sleep. Or at least that was my excuse.
It was hard to think and accept the fact I loved the smell of my sociopath so much that I had no desire to wash it away.
Tomorrow.
I could think about my escape plan tomorrow, and based on what happened today, he wouldn't want to wait for long. He had a life out there, didn't he? At some point, he would need to leave; he couldn't sit here forever. There was a strong possibility he would put me in chains again, but somehow, after seeing the bruises on my skin that he had made, I doubted he would put me through that again. I closed my eyes and let the dreams take me away.
I should have known the nightmares would be exceptionally vivid when I had such stress. They appeared from time to time, always having my dad and Ken pointing a gun at me. I should have known and waited until a little later to go to sleep. The nightmares weren't as bad when my body was exhausted.
“Here, have more turkey.” I pushed my plate, which was still filled with delicious Thanksgiving treats, to Dominic, but he shook his head.
“No, you need to eat as well. You barely touched anything.” Truthfully, I didn't want to. I knew what I did to get all those things, and because Dominic was healthier, I wasn't sorry about it. But every time I touched the food, it reminded me of the blowjob, and I wanted to vomit all o
ver the fucking cell. Dominic couldn't know the truth. He had no idea of the lengths I went to in order to ensure he was safe all through the years, and I planned to keep it that way.
“Nah, I better eat a sandwich.” John was surprisingly generous too, or maybe not so surprisingly, and those chicken sandwiches were good. Not that we knew any better anyway. We had lived in this hole for ten years. I didn't remember Mom or Juanita and their amazing cooking anymore. Childhood memories of homemade cookies faded away, and I had only snippets of our mom’s smile, or Dad’s eagerness to play with us, or even Juanita’s tasty candies she used to slip into our hands. I clung to those memories; otherwise, my mind would be filled with nothing but one sexual scene after another.
Suddenly, Dominic stopped eating, and pushed his plate aside. “What did you do?”
I snapped my eyes back to his and shook my head in denial, not that it worked much with him. “Nothing.”
“Right. I’m so stupid. All those new things and the food. You did something extra for him, didn't you? Because of me.” He was shouting and coughing. His cold wasn't completely gone yet, and it wasn't like we had days to rest. He should take it easy on his throat.
“Don’t shout, Dom,” I shushed him, but he moved back with an angry expression on his face.
“He wanted you to suck him off, didn't he? Damian, don’t ever do that again, please.” He tried to grab my hand, but I pulled it back. I wasn't about to give him any promises. If his life was on the line, I would do more, and Dom knew it. His shoulders slumped and he rested his head against the wall.
“I never wanted you to sacrifice anything for me, brother.” His voice was low and regretful, and the part of my heart that still functioned squeezed. He was the only one capable of bringing out emotions in me.
“Dom, it’s okay. I don’t even remember it anymore.”
He just shook his head again, and then turned his face to me, his wistful eyes focused on mine. “Another nightmare, Damian. You can’t save me all the time.”