Uncovering You 4: Retribution

by Scarlett Edwards

  As I get closer, a voice at the back of my mind starts telling me this is a very bad idea. It warns me that if Stonehart learns that I’ve been sneaking around, he won’t be pleased at all.

  I choose to ignore it. I’m not pushing my boundaries—not entirely. I am still abiding by his rules. Besides, shouldn’t he be pleased to know that I want to see him without being forced?

  I come up to the window. The blinds are drawn. However, they don’t touch the windowsill. Feeling a little surge of rebellious excitement, I squat down and put my eyes against the glass to look inside.

  The vision I see makes me wish I had never left my bed.

  Stonehart is there. Oh yes, he’s undeniably in there. I can tell it’s him from the wide, naked muscles of his back, from the framed silhouette of his face, from the grunts that I hear through the window as he drives his hips in and out of a tiny, petite blond who’s splayed over his desk.

  Her cries filter to my ears. “Oh yes!” she screams. “Yes, yes, yes!”

  Bile rises in my throat. I know that voice. It belongs to the receptionist I met outside the private entrance to Stonehart’s boardroom. The one who looks like she’s barely of age.

  “Harder, Mr. Stonehart!” she begs. “Yes, fuck me harder! Yes, yes, ooh!”

  I twist away and nearly lose my balance as the sudden rise leaves me lightheaded. I flounder back, misplace my step, and fall with a thud against the window.

  Immediately, the sounds inside stop.

  Shit! I curse in my head. Shit, shit, shit!

  “Mr. Stonehart?” The girl’s tremulous voice. “What was that?”

  “Stay here,” he growls. I duck down and press myself flat against the siding as I hear the sudden swoosh of the blinds being pulled up.

  Light spills out. My heart is thundering as loud as a galloping horse.

  Stonehart’s shadow falls on the ground. I see the dark length of his erection, made longer by the falling light.

  “Who’s there?” he says. “Lilly, is that you?”

  I squeeze my eyes shut and pray that he doesn’t see me.

  Please, please don’t let him see me.

  After a minute, he grunts and turns away. I see the shadow retreat as he steps back.

  “Did you see anything?” the girl asks.

  “Probably an animal,” Stonehart answers.

  “Oh,” the girl says, suddenly giggly. “Whew.” Then her voice becomes defensive. “Who’s Lilly?”

  It hits me that she only knows me as ‘Miss Ryder’.

  “Never mind,” Stonehart growls. “Wait here. I have to check something.”

  The girl’s protests are lost on me as I push off from the side of the house and start to sprint back to the sunroom. If Stonehart went to check on me, and finds me out of bed… well, it wouldn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

  I run straight through the bushes and over the wet grass, not bothering with the proper paths. I cry out when I stub my toe against something in the dark, nearly falling flat on my face in the process. But I catch my balance at the last moment and keep going.

  I burst through the glass door, chest heaving. I don’t wait for it to close properly before diving in my bed and ducking under the covers.

  The room is silent. My breathing is hard and fast. Adrenaline has my body wound tight as a guitar string. One pluck and I’ll snap in two.

  I strain my ears for Stonehart’s entrance while trying to calm my heart rate at the same time. I can’t pretend to be asleep if I’m gasping like a maniac.

  My breaths slow. I haven’t heard anybody enter the room. I let myself relax, thinking that the danger has passed…

  Then I hear his voice.

  “Lilly.” It’s a hushed whisper. “Lilly. Are you asleep?”

  I pretend not to hear him and regulate my breaths to be slow and deep, like in a slumber.

  He walks to me. I can hear his footsteps against the tiles. My insides clench with apprehension at his approach.

  “Lilly, Lilly, Lilly,” he chuckles. “What are you doing here?”

  I open my eyes sleepily, pretending to just be waking up. “Jeremy?” I say, going for my best confused voice. “Why are you here?”

  He looks quite impressive wearing nothing but a pair of Giorgio Armani sleeping pants. The pale moonlight illumines the hard lines of his chest.

  I don’t look at his face. If I meet his eyes, I’m terrified he’ll see my guilt. Even worse, I won’t be able to hide my reaction to what I saw going on in his office if I look at him now. All my emotions would come jumbling out.

  “I’m here to check up on my favorite girl, of course,” he says, lowering himself on the edge of the bed. He reaches out and starts stroking my hair. “I’m leaving early tomorrow morning and wanted to see you before I go.”

  I want to recoil from his touch, knowing where his hands have just been, but that would betray my act. So, instead, I lie there, not moving, and answer, “I know. I saw the note.”

  “Did you?” he muses. “And was there anything else you saw recently that was of interest to you?”

  My whole body tenses.

  He knows.

  “No,” I answer meekly.

  “Are you sure?” he asks. “Nothing at all? Nothing you would like to admit to?” His hand tightens in my hair. I whimper as pain shoots through my skull. He pulls my head up, making my neck crane at an awkward ankle, and hisses in my ear, “What I like even less than liars, Lilly,” he tells me, “are cowards.”

  I close my eyes tight and will the pain to go away.

  “Now,” he continues. “Are you absolutely sure there’s nothing you’d like to tell me?” His voice drops to a menacing whisper. “Think very carefully before you answer. It can be the difference between a happy existence for you, and one that becomes… trying.”

  I’m too far gone to repent now. I know all Stonehart has to do to figure out I was outside is look at the cameras.

  Idiot! What was I thinking, trying to pretend I was asleep?

  The only difference, I’m sure, is that if I admit to things now, I will be subject to immediate punishment. If he finds out later, by himself… well, he’ll have probably cooled off somewhat. And anyway, it will buy me an extra two days to prepare myself for whatever he decides to do to me on his return.

  “No,” I whisper finally.

  Stonehart releases my hair. His voice turns warm. “Then I guess I was mistaken.” He leans down and kisses my cheek. “Sleep tight, Lilly.”

  He stands up. I breathe a sigh of relief. As I hear his footsteps start to echo away, some of my tense muscles relax a little.

  I managed to avoid punishment. For now.

  Then his footsteps stop. My heart lurches up to my throat. I crack an eye open and look at him.

  Slowly, he turns around.

  “Tell me,” he says, dark eyes glistening, “why I see wet footprints leading from the door to your bed?”

  Chapter Nine

  Stonehart yanks the leash forward. It pulls on my neck and sends me splattering to the floor.

  “Up,” he barks. “Get up, Lilly!”

  Trembling, I return to my hands and knees. I’m blindfolded, so I have no idea where I am. I’ve long since lost all sense of orientation.

  I’ve been crawling on the floor behind Stonehart for what seems like hours. A shooting pain runs through both my wrists from the placement of my palms on the floor. My knees are already bruised. And I can’t see a damn thing.

  After noticing the wet footprints, Stonehart wasted no time dragging me from my bed and slapping me across the cheek to send me to the floor.

  “Stay there,” he commanded, “unless you’ve developed a new taste for pain.”

  He turned away and left, as easy as that. I was reduced to emitting small whimpers against the cold, familiar floor tiles.

  When he returned, he had a black leather leash in one hand, a gag and a blindfold in the other. I didn’t try to fight when he clipped the leash throug
h my collar. I knew how little good it would do me.

  “You lie like a dog,” he said, “so, you’ll be treated as one. From now on, unless I say otherwise, you will only travel on hands and knees.” He gave the leash a tug. “And only as far as this leash will let you.”

  Next, he tossed the gag and blindfold at me. “Put those on,” he said.

  I had no choice but to comply. As I tied the black silk around my eyes, all I could think of was my overwhelming hatred for him. A hatred rekindled by the events of tonight.

  Had I wavered in my resolve before? Well, no more.

  “Good,” Stonehart said when I was finished. “I’m glad you can still follow instruction, if only on occasion. Now,” he continued, “take off your clothes.”

  I didn’t move. He could humiliate me as much as he wanted, but I refused to help him do it. Even if that attitude brought me pain in the future, my mind was set.

  Stonehart tugged the leash toward him. “Do not make me repeat myself,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous. “There are worse things I can do to you than this, Lilly, so don’t give me any extra motivation.”

  That threat was enough to make me reconsider my position.

  When I’d stripped, Stonehart barked a cruel laugh. “Funny how quickly fortunes change, eh, Lilly?”

  He tugged me forward.

  I hate you, I thought the entire time I was forced to crawl after him. I hate you. I hate you. I HATE YOU!

  Eventually, we wound up… somewhere. Stonehart pulled something that sounded like a curtain aside and kicked me in. I bit down against the pain that shot through my side.

  “Don’t make a sound, Lilly-flower,” he warned. “not a single noise. Otherwise, I will get angry.”

  I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around myself against the cold.

  And that’s where I am now. Huddling, naked, alone, and friendless, in some forgotten corner of Stonehart’s mansion.

  I hate him. I hate the collar. I hate the contract. I hate how he treats me. I’ll never be more to him than a plaything. That’s all I’ll ever be to him. I know.

  I hate myself for sometimes secretly wishing for more.

  My fingers itch to pull the blindfold off. I clamp my nails into the meat of my hand. Stonehart did not give me permission. He did not forbid it, but I think it’s safe to assume it was implied.

  A moment later, I hear a door come open. Next comes a high, bubbly, female voice.

  “Oh, Mr. Stonehart, I’ve never been in here.”

  I hear her shriek and land with a thud on something soft. Probably a mattress. Next comes the sound of heated foreplay.

  Disgust builds in my throat as I bite down the sobs that try to escape. This is what he wants, isn’t it? He wants me to listen to him fuck some other woman. He wants it to affect me. He wants to show me how worthless I am.

  And really, what better way is there of demonstrating the kind of weak, pathetic, useless, and utterly wretched creature I have become? As the girl’s moans get louder and louder, swirling together with Stonehart’s heavy pants, I finally see the true hopelessness of my situation.

  It doesn’t matter what I do. In the end, Stonehart will always have control. It doesn’t matter what we shared—or, more accurately, what I thought we shared. Those things will not change Stonehart. They will not change his relationship toward me. A few days after he calls me his girlfriend in front of Esteban and offers me the position as Chief of Dextran, he fucks his likely-underage secretary in the office I am forbidden from entering!

  Her moans get louder. I want to throw up. I can’t take being in this little hole, made an unwilling spectator to the gruesome act. Is it designed to evoke jealousy in me?

  No—no! I don’t think Stonehart is that sentimental. All this is about showing me how little power I have.

  “Oh, Mr. Stonehart! Yes, yes, yes, yes!” the girl cries. I grimace. I’ve never screamed like that, have I? It sounds so… fake.

  A few moments later, I hear the tell-tale roar that always comes from Stonehart’s throat when he comes. To think, just a few days ago, I prided myself on being able to elicit that response in him.

  Their labored breathing slows. The poor girl has no idea she has a witness tonight. I feel sorrier for her than I do for myself. She’s young, naïve, and probably thinking that having sex with Stonehart will cement something more meaningful with him.

  I scoff. I know the truth of that.

  The light that’s coming in from under the lower part of my blindfold fades. Now, I’m truly left in the dark. I listen to Stonehart and the girl murmur sweet nothings to each other.

  We never did that.

  Soon, they’ll be asleep. Or maybe up for another round. Who the hell knows?

  All I know is that I’m not going anywhere for a long time. I curl up on my side, trying to find a position that exposes the least amount of my naked flesh to the cold floor. I try not to think what being here reminds me of most.

  Chapter Ten

  A bright light and a loud gasp jerks me from sleep the next morning.

  I open my eyes, terrified for one frantic moment when my vision doesn’t immediately show me anything. Then I remember the blindfold, now gray with light. I hurry to untie it.

  When it falls from my face, I find Rose standing above me, her features frozen in a grave expression of horror.

  “Hi, Rose,” I mumble, pulling the gag from my mouth. I can imagine my surprise if I found her naked on the floor, the only thing on her body a sleek black collar with a leash attached.

  I don’t want her feeling sorrier for me than she already does. Besides—honestly—things look much worse than they really are. Aside from the pain in my knees from crawling after Stonehart last night, the graininess in my eyes from an uneasy sleep, the growing bruise on my side from where he kicked me into this enclosure, and the soul-consuming sense of cold that seeps into all the bones of my body, I’m fine.

  Really.

  Rose rushes away as I blink through the bright sunlight. At least the light sensitivity is getting better. I don’t get piercing pains anymore.

  She comes back with a blanket spread wide in her arms and lowers it over me. She kneels down, smoothing my hair, and winces when she touches my cheek.

  Oh yeah. I forgot about that. Stonehart slapped me, too.

  “What happened to you?” she asks in a shaky voice.

  “Jeremy did,” I reply. I take a deep breath and try to stand, only to find my legs unwilling to hold me up. “It was caused by my own stupidity, of course.”

  “Oh, you poor thing,” Rose coos. She wraps her arms around me and holds me tight. “Mr. Stonehart left a note to come wake you this morning. I never expected to find you like this.”

  “After the way you found me the first time we met, is this really so bad?” I ask, trying to inject a semblance of humor into the conversation.

  Rose looks at me for a long time. She seems to be trying hard not to let the moisture in her eyes spill over into tears.

  “Mr. Stonehart told me you put yourself in that condition as some kind of protest,” she says. “He was very worried about you the whole time.”

  “Well, that’s not exactly untrue,” I mutter. “Can you help me up?”

  “Of course.” Rose takes me under the armpits and, on a count of three, we rise together.

  “Your skin is ice cold, Miss Ryder,” Rose tells me. “How would you like me to draw you a hot bath?”

  “That would be wonderful,” I whisper, and allow her to lead me out of the room.

  ***

  An hour or so later, I am soaking in water that has long since turned lukewarm. Rose is babbling away about all the things she has to take care of in the house to keep it to the exacting specifications that Stonehart demands.

  I think the mindless chatter is her way of dealing with what she sees going on with me.

  “Oh!” she suddenly bursts out. “I almost forgot. Mr. Stonehart left a small gift for you with the l
etter I found. He asked me to give it to you straight away.”

  She starts to pull it out. I stop her with a hand on her wrist.

  I don’t want to think about Stonehart and his double-meaning gifts. Not now.

  “Can you just put it on my bed, when you have the chance?” I ask.

  Rose nods solemnly. “I will.”

  “Thank you.” I sigh and lean back. “Thank you, Rose. I don’t know how I would survive without you.”

  “Miss Ryder?” She sounds unfamiliarly hesitant. “May I ask you… a question?”

  “Of course,” I say, surprised at her reluctance.

  “How did you… well, I mean… uh… How did you and Mr. Stonehart, um, meet, exactly?” She takes a deep breath and rushes on, “If it’s not rude of me to ask, that is.”

  I shake my head. “No, Rose, of course I can tell you.” I glance up at the ceiling where I know Stonehart’s cameras are recording every word of the conversation. “But, um, are you sure it’s such a good idea?”

  “You’re right.” She bows her head. “It was an imprudent request. I apologize.”

  “Don’t,” I say as I exhale. “It’s not your fault. And at least I can count on you to care for me. That means more than you know.”

  “I’m just doing my job, Miss Ryder,” she says, squeezing my shoulder, but I can see appreciation bloom in her sad eyes.

  Chapter Eleven

  After my bath, I go to the powder room and apply all the makeup I need to hide the swelling on my face.

  I’m getting quite proficient at this, I think with a self-deprecating chuckle.

  Next, I wander back to the sunroom and look at the package Rose told me would be in my bed. It’s a tiny yellow envelope, the kind in which I got my dorm keys at Yale.

  I don’t really want to look inside, but I don’t want it weighing on my mind all day, either. I break the seal and upend the contents on my bed.

  A single army tag falls out. A tiny post-it note flutters out after it.

  The note reads:

  A new decoration for your collar, so that you don’t forget your place.