by A. Zavarelli
“Brighton Valentine?” he held the envelope towards me tentatively.
“Uh yeah?”
He shoved the envelope into my hand without another word and stomped off. It was definitely not a professional delivery, and when I glanced down at the envelope, my curiosity was piqued.
I shut the door and made it as far as the sofa before I tore it open and pulled out a stack of papers. Nicole was in the kitchen fumbling with the coffee pot, and I was glad for it when I saw what the note said.
I have the evidence that could exonerate Brayden
I flipped through the stack of paperwork in a state of disbelief as I realized I was being blackmailed. Inside this file were more documents from Brayden’s accident than I ever even knew existed. Half of them were blacked out, and the rest were already a matter of public record.
There was a report from a private investigator, along with photos I’d never seen before. They had dates and time-stamps, and even though the faces were blurry, I knew right away that one of the men was Brayden. They were grainy and appeared to be from some kind of CCTV footage. But the date and time stamp were what drew my attention. Because that was the day the accident happened. Brayden wasn’t alone that night, and this evidence proved it.
Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to collect this information and to make sure I couldn’t use it. As I read through the rest of the paperwork, a sickening clarity washed over me.
There was some sort of informal agreement in the back that stated the sender’s demands. As I read through it, all the blood drained from my face.
Complete control over your body and life for six months…
I read the words over and over again hoping I was somehow misunderstanding them. But by the tenth time, I knew I wasn’t.
“Are you okay?” Nicole asked, hovering over me with a furrowed brow. “You look pale.”
I shoved everything back into the envelope and nodded as she handed me a cup of coffee. Truthfully, I wasn’t okay. I would never be okay again.
Chapter Six
“Will you tell me what’s going on?” Nicole persisted through the speaker of my cell phone.
It was the middle of the week, and I’d called in sick to work this morning, but I couldn’t tell her why. Because what I was about to do was stupid and reckless, and the last thing I needed was someone trying to talk me out of it.
I’d already tried to talk myself out of it plenty of times over the last three days. I’d gone over every possible scenario in my head, making myself sick with worry. I could have taken the envelope to the police, but the chances of me getting any help there was nonexistent. I still remembered how helpful they were when Brayden turned himself in. They’d tasered him on our front lawn when they claimed he was resisting arrest. It was an image that was burnt into my memory, and one I’d never forget.
Since then, I’d done a lot of research of my own. I knew how situations like this worked. If there were no fingerprints, then there would be no way to trace this. And my blackmailer made a point to say this. If I went to the police, all the evidence disappeared. Whoever was behind this had been meticulous in their demands as well as their homework.
After sorting through the contents of the envelope in the privacy of my bedroom, I’d found a record of my entire life over the last five years. It made me sick how many times I’d been photographed without even realizing it. Whoever this was knew what they were doing, and I suspected they were watching me even now.
“I just have something I have to do, Nicole,” I croaked through the phone. “I can’t explain right now. But if I’m not home when you get here after work, please check the kitchen drawer beneath the microwave.”
I’d left her a note, on the chance things did go south.
“Brighton, you’re really giving me the heebie-jeebies, you know that?”
“I know.” I glanced at the clock. “But you just have to trust me.”
“Okay, well… ah crap,” she muttered. “Mr. Bennett is buzzing me into his office. I have to go. Whatever you’re doing today, be careful.”
“I will.” I lied.
I clicked off the phone and left it on the counter per my instructions. With a deep breath and nothing but a hotel key card in my hand, I closed the apartment door behind me.
***
It wasn’t as simple as I’d imagined. I thought if I told myself I was doing this for Brayden, it would help to ease my nerves. But that was a damn lie because my nerves were shot. I’d hoped I would be able to stay numb, to think about something else and get it over quickly. Like ripping off a band-aid. But that was naïve and childish and completely impossible in my situation.
Two hours had passed since I’d arrived at the hotel room. I’d done my part to hold up my end of the bargain, but my blackmailer still hadn’t shown. I wore nothing but a dress and a blindfold as instructed, waiting on the middle of the hotel bed for my life to be turned upside down. My body would soon be under the control of a complete stranger. Someone who held the next twenty years of my brother’s life in his hands. That’s what I had to keep telling myself every time my stomach churned.
It made me sick to think anyone could do this to my brother, and I hated this man already. But I could get through this for Brayden, and I would. I had to. And whenever I had second thoughts, I would conjure up the image of him the last time I saw him in prison. The gaunt face and blackened eyes that stared back at me. What the other prisoners saw as just penance for his crime. Except it wasn’t his crime at all. That was what I couldn’t wrap my mind around.
Whoever was doing this knew that. They knew about Brayden, and they let him spend the last five years of his life rotting in prison. And now they had set their sights on me, for whatever unknown reason. Leaving me to tremble as I waited for them to appear. This had to be by design. They wanted me to be afraid. My anxiety was rising by the minute, and I wanted to scream.
Almost as if on cue, the sound of the electronic lock in the door beeped, followed by a soft click. My entire world came to a standstill as my chest rose and fell in soft, measured breaths. I tried to stay calm, but it wasn’t working. Tears stung my eyes as footsteps padded across the room towards me.
“Hello, Brighton.”
Goosebumps skittered over every inch of my body.
The way he said my name. I couldn’t describe it, but there was something off about it. The emotion he conveyed in that simple word was almost too much, and yet not enough. There was a certain inflection that sounded so familiar, and yet his voice was unrecognizable. Low and soft. Calm, but forced. As if there was anger boiling just beneath the surface and he was very practiced at hiding it.
“I see you’ve followed your instructions,” he continued. “Does that mean you agree to my terms?”
I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself. I wanted to tell him he was the most disgusting human being that ever lived. But instead, I swallowed my anger and responded as politely as I could muster.
“I have some questions first.”
“I thought you might.”
The bed dipped as he sat beside me, and I nearly jerked my arm out of the socket when he touched my shoulder.
“Are you going to hurt me?”
He hissed out a breath of air, and at that moment, I desperately wished I could see his face. To know what this stranger was thinking. What he planned to do with me. Knowing in my mind he was going to touch me and actually feeling it were two completely different things. Panic was setting in, but I couldn’t show him that. I couldn’t show him weakness.
“I don’t fuck women who aren’t willing,” he snarled. “I thought I made that clear enough. Did you not read the agreement?”
“I did,” I croaked. “You want complete control of my body and life for six months. I just don’t really understand what that means.”
He wrapped his fingers around my ankle and pulled it into his lap, but instead of fighting him, I left it there as he stroked my skin. I gritted my teeth as I prepared for th
e worst, of the certain disgust I should feel. But his touch was gentle and warm, which confused me. When I came here, I expected something awful to happen to me. Something I might never be able to recover from. But if it meant Brayden not spending the next twenty years in prison, then it was a sacrifice I was willing to make.
“Why don’t we go over the terms together,” he suggested. “I will clarify whatever it is that confuses you.”
There was an arrogant pleasure in his tone that I didn’t like, but still, I nodded. I needed to understand exactly what I was getting myself into. Exactly what I would be giving up to help Brayden.
The stranger shifted his weight, followed by the sound of rustling papers. He began to rattle off the terms as though this were an everyday occurrence for him.
“Section One. You will be available to me at any time that I may wish, day or night, seven days per week. The length of this agreement is for a period of six months, including any and all holidays. As part of these terms, you agree to maintain phone contact a minimum of once per day in the form of text. Any questions so far?” he asked.
“I have a job,” I replied meekly. “I need to keep my income, I can’t just…”
“Your job is of no importance to me,” he said. “And if I deem it necessary for you to quit, then you will. This is, by definition, having complete control.”
“Okay.” My eyes burned, but I tried to keep my composure as he read on.
“Section Two. Excluding home and work, you will not venture anywhere without my consent. This includes outings with friends or trips to the store. As part of this stipulation, you are only allowed to use public transportation or a method of transport provided by myself. Riding with friends or in any unauthorized vehicle is strictly forbidden. Questions?”
It was a stupid rule if you asked me, but it was one I could live with, so I shook my head. I hardly went anywhere besides home or work anyway, and I didn’t even know anybody in San Francisco that owned a car besides Nicole.
“Section Three,” he continued. “You are to wear a GPS tracking device at all times. There will be no exceptions to this rule under any circumstances. Understood?”
“But why do I need a tracker if you already know where I live and work?” I asked. “And if I’m checking in with you, then don’t you trust me to be honest?”
A hollow laugh sounded from his chest as his fingers squeezed my ankle. “Trust you, Brighton? With your bloodline, I’m surprised you even have to ask that question.”
My stomach knotted. I wanted to tell him he was wrong about me. That he didn’t know me at all. But what was the point? The longer I spent with him, the more callous he sounded. Now all I wanted to do was get this over with, and by the stiffening of my body, it must have been obvious.
“It’s also for your protection.” His hand slid up my calf, making me shiver. “Bad things happen. I want to make sure none of those things happen to you.”
For a moment, I could almost convince myself it sounded like he cared. But then he spoke again.
“At least… not until I’m done with you,” he amended.
I clamped my mouth shut and nodded.
“The final section,” he concluded, “is that your body is mine to do with as I please. This includes any and all sexual acts, including pleasure and pain. In plain English, Brighton, that means I will fuck you any way that I want. If I give you an order, you will follow it without question. If I tell you to walk into this hotel in nothing but a pair of heels, you will obey. If I tell you to get down on your knees and suck my fucking cock for three hours straight, you will do it. Obedience is the only thing that will save you and get you what you want in this situation. Do you understand?”
My body was shaking now, and I hugged myself in an attempt to regain control. I wasn’t too proud to admit I was terrified. The coldness in this man’s voice scared me on a level I’d never known before. But I had to do it. Emotionally, I was made of Teflon. I may have been young, but I’d been through a lot in my short life, and I thought I could handle anything this man threw my way. I would do it for my brother. For my blood.
“I understand,” I whispered.
“If you fail to do as I request at any given time, I will punish you, Brighton. And I can promise you it won’t be pleasant. If it continues to be an issue, I will sever the agreement accordingly,” he repeated. “And with it, all evidence that you require.”
“Alright!” I snapped. “I get it. Stop saying that, please.”
My voice sounded desperate, but I didn’t care. I was desperate.
“Very well. Let’s get started then.”
He got up and padded across the floor, and then there was a pregnant pause of silence that threatened to engulf me. I couldn’t stop shaking. Perhaps if I had done this before, it would be different. But I figured it couldn’t hurt any worse than anything I’d already been through. Women all over the world did this every day for their profession. Surely, I could do it too. I would just think of myself as an escort. But instead of receiving money, I’d be getting a priceless gift. The gift of Brayden’s freedom.
I heard the sound of a zipper being undone followed by the rustling of clothing.
“Stand up,” he said softly. “Undress yourself for me.”
From the location of his voice, I could tell he was sitting in the chair across the room. Watching me. The distance between us felt more threatening than when he was actually touching me.
I rose on trembling legs, lifting my dress up without any kind of finesse.
“Slowly,” he chided.
The soft cotton material fell back to my knees, and I clenched it in my fists as I drew it back up over my body. I didn’t know how to be sexy. I didn’t even want to try. But I had to fulfill his request, so I did as he asked, taking my time before I pulled it over my head and discarded it on the floor.
I stood there and waited for him to say something, anything. It took him forever.
“Now the rest.” His voice was thick, and it disarmed me.
I was wearing a simple white cotton bra and panties. There was nothing sexy about me. If anything, I looked virginal. The irony was too painful to consider.
I reached behind my back and unclasped my bra, allowing it to fall to the floor. I tamped down every instinct I had to cover my breasts as the cool air hit them, hardening my nipples. The only thing I could do was focus on the next task, shimmying out of my panties and kicking them aside.
It was all out there now. He could see every part of me. I hated it.
“Now get down on your knees and crawl to me.”
I hesitated, and this earned me a cruel reminder of his control.
“Don’t make me ask twice.”
I sank to my knees and allowed a couple tears to spill from the corners of my eyes. This was the ultimate form of humiliation, and he was getting off on treating me like an animal. I couldn’t understand how someone could be so cruel. So callous.
And yet, I crawled. The carpet burned against my knees, and when my cheek grazed his thigh, I jumped.
“So skittish,” he whispered, tangling a hand in my hair and jerking my head upward. “I like that.”
“Please don’t be rough,” I blurted.
“You don’t get to make those requests,” he said. “Remember?”
His response made my blood run cold. Because it implied that he had every intention of being rough and that he would thoroughly enjoy it. More tears came, and I couldn’t hide them. He wiped them away with his thumbs before he continued his instructions.
“Stand up and put your palms against the wall.”
I rose up again and edged towards the wall, being careful not to trip myself. I only had my hands to guide me, and he made no effort of helping. But as soon as they were planted firmly in place, I felt his presence behind me.
He gripped my hips and pulled back at the same time he kicked my legs apart. I stumbled into the position reluctantly, every muscle in my body tense and ready for a fight. Then hi
s hands were on me. Everywhere.
His touch was confusing. It was gentle and warm, and he didn’t even try to hide the sound of his pleasure as his palms roamed over my skin. His pained groans told me he’d been waiting a long time for this moment.
He started at the nape of my neck, drifting down my sides and over my ribs. I shivered when he squeezed my ass in his hands, then glided back up my stomach. When he cupped my breasts, something else flared to life inside of me. A strange sensation that burned in my gut and left me feeling a little bit drunk.
My breathing changed as his lips found my neck, and I couldn’t control it. I was panting, hard. My fear had transformed into something else entirely.
“Do you like my hands on your body?” he whispered into my ear.
I whimpered in response, hoping he wouldn’t make me answer him. That was too cruel. It wasn’t desire, it was biology. My body was adapting to the situation. Doing what it needed to survive. That, I was certain of. Because if I had liked it, liked the hands of this monster, that would have made me a monster too.
His teeth scraped along my throat, all the way down to my shoulder, leaving a certain trail of red marks. It burned, but it made my heart race faster too.
“I want to do everything to you,” he rasped. “Depraved things I haven’t even thought of yet, but that I certainly will.”
When he knelt behind me and dug his fingers into my hips, I cried out. He laughed and then buried his face between my parted legs. I forgot the pain of his grip when his tongue lashed against me. It was soft and gentle at first, and the traitorous desire that simmered inside of me now boiled over.
A sound of surrender escaped my throat when his tongue pushed inside of me. I’d never been so exposed in front of a man before, and I could only imagine how flushed I must be. Moisture clung to my skin, and my palms grew weak against the wall. I trembled when something zipped up my spine. My belly contracted, and my body grew so stiff I knew I would explode any second.