by M. J. Haag
“You are mine, Hannah.”
“I don’t want you.”
“I know.”
“Then go away.”
He straightened, crossing his arms.
“No. Last chance. Go eat. Now.”
I snarled my frustration, and he snarled back. To avoid another caveman carry, I skirted around him and went to the island. Emily watched us with wide eyes.
“This is all your fault,” I hissed at her. “He’s way past stage five.”
Her gaze darted to Merdon, who was slowly making his way to the seat beside me.
“Be nice, Hannah,” he warned.
I dropped my gaze to my plate and angrily ate what was there. It wasn’t like I had a lot of choice. If I tried to leave, he’d return me to my seat. Forcefully. If I refused to eat, he’d feed me. It wouldn’t be pretty. As he’d confirmed on more than one occasion, consent wasn’t required for what he deemed necessary.
When I finished, I set my fork aside and turned to him.
“What now, my malevolent master?”
“Change and meet me in the basement in—”
“Let me guess. In five minutes?” I curled my hands into fists. If he wanted me down there, fine. But there’d be no boundaries because of fear. Today, I’d rip his fucking ears off. It wasn’t like he used them, anyway.
“Merdon, would it be possible for me to borrow Hannah for an hour or so today? James and Mary are worried about her, and a visit would ease their minds.”
My thoughts raced with the possibilities. There was more than a potential reprieve from fighting with Merdon to be found by going to James and Mary’s. I might get the help I needed.
Keeping any hint of the hope from my expression, I met Merdon’s gaze as he considered me for a long moment.
“Maybe we could go before she gets all sweaty and tired?” Emily added, a hopeful note lacing her words.
“You choose, Hannah,” he said softly. “Do you want to speak with James and Mary or spend time in the basement?”
Like it was even a choice.
“Visit.”
“Go dress. If you’re not down here, ready, in two minutes, I’ll know you changed your mind.”
I fled the kitchen, pulling my top off before I even cleared my bedroom door. I didn’t know if it was guilt that had Emily throwing me a lifeline, but I’d take it, whatever the cause. James and Mary were kind and cared about me. If they found out what Merdon was doing, they’d put a stop to it. They had to.
Not only did I dress in record time, but I also managed to spritz my hair into manageable ringlets before bounding down the stairs.
Merdon waited at the bottom, his hard gaze taking in every detail of the short-sleeved dress that exposed the faint bruising from yesterday’s bites. Unfortunately, there was no handprint on my butt that I’d be able to show to reinforce my abuse.
His gaze lingered on the darker crescent shape on my bicep. That one had hurt more because I’d tried yanking my arm away when he’d already been clamped down.
“I know what you’re doing,” he said calmly. “You’ll be disappointed in the end.” He motioned to the front door.
I wasn’t sure what he meant and didn’t stop to ask. It was after lunch, and I wanted Merdon out of my house and my life by dinner time.
Emily didn’t say anything as I joined her by the door and grabbed my jacket and shoes, which were once again on the rug. When I was ready, she led the way. Merdon followed. I wasn’t deterred.
Breathing deeply, I immersed myself in my momentary freedom and imagined how I’d spend the next day. Maybe watching movies and flipping Merdon off through the window as I drank myself silly in the living room. The idea of giving him the finger throughout the day was more appealing than the drinking.
James called out his welcome as soon as Emily knocked. His face lit up when he saw me, and he yelled for Mary. She came out of the kitchen just as Merdon closed the door behind us.
“Well, this is a welcome surprise. How are you feeling, Hannah?” she asked.
The timing of her question couldn’t have been better. I finished taking off my coat and held out my arms.
“Not well. Merdon is biting me and forcing me to do things I don’t want to do.”
Mary tsked and hurried toward me. She wrapped me in a tight hug, and I let out a relieved exhale.
“I can’t imagine the biting feels good, but you’ll get stronger. He won’t get away with so many then,” she said, still holding me.
I looked at James, confused.
“Merdon is smart for teaching you how to avoid being bitten by an infected, and you’re brave for undertaking such demanding training.” He looked at Merdon. “The nips look a might bit hard, though.”
“Pain is motivation to try harder,” Merdon said.
“I imagine so,” James agreed. “Just remember she’s human.”
I jerked in Mary’s arms as I realized what was happening. Again. They were all okay with what was happening.
Mary released me and patted my cheek affectionately.
“He’s not teaching me how to avoid being bitten,” I said emphatically.
“Of course he is,” she said with a chuckle. “Unless those are love bites?”
“They aren’t love bites! They’re bites from an asshole who gets sick pleasure from torturing me while convincing everyone around me that it’s for my own good. What’s wrong with you people? Why do you refuse to see what’s really going on?”
Mary gave me a sad look.
“We aren’t the ones refusing to see things the way they are, sweetie.”
I fisted my hands at my sides at the same time Merdon’s hands settled on my shoulders. I stilled, my impotent rage consolidating in my middle.
“That’s enough, Hannah.”
I whirled on him.
“Or what? You’ll force-feed me? Throw me into the shower? Hold me down and bite me? What more can you really do to me, Merdon? What new level of hell will I be forced to endure?”
That hard glint returned to his eyes.
“Do you want to find out?”
My fingers curled into claws. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted it so much I could barely breathe.
“All right, you two,” James said. “Save the training for your house. We like our furniture. Ma, why don’t you get your menu plans? Tor was already by this morning, asking if we had any news about the schedule.”
“I’m not sure we’re ready for that yet,” Emily said.
“I agree,” Merdon said.
I turned my back to him, not caring what he thought, then realized I had no idea what they were even talking about.
“Ready for what?” I asked.
“Our dating game dinners,” Mary said. “The fey are anxious to get started, but it didn’t feel right moving ahead with those plans when you were struggling so. But if you’re feeling better, you can help us. If not and you’d rather stay with Merdon, I’ll just steal Emily away for a few hours.”
None of it felt real. How had we gone from me accusing Merdon of abusing me to dinner plans for the fey?
“Unbelievable,” I breathed. My focus shifted to James. “I thought I could count on you.”
Both he and Mary started talking. I didn’t listen. Numb to everything, I turned to walk out the door.
Merdon blocked my way.
“You chose to visit. So, visit.”
I looked up at him, feeling dead inside.
“No.”
I held his gaze, daring him to show James and Mary what he was really like. When he did nothing, I skirted him and let myself outside.
The wind immediately bit my exposed skin. Rather than going back for my jacket, I wrapped my arms around myself and trudged on.
Merdon’s warning that I’d be disappointed rang in my ears with each step. He’d known. He’d spoken to them at some point. That or Emily had. Anger curled in my middle at how it’d probably been Emily. She’d paved the way for the madman plaguing me. She’d given him
the key to keeping me prisoner. And, as far as I could tell, there was no way out for me. Not anymore.
Lost, I stopped walking and tipped my head up to the light blue sky. Clarity often came with retrospection, and I thought again of Tenacity. I’d been a fool to go there for a drink. I should have packed up all my shit and moved there permanently while I’d had the chance.
No, my mistake was long before that. I should have pushed Katie ahead of me and given myself to the infected in her place.
An angry, rough voice cut into my thoughts.
“Keep walking.”
“No.” I turned toward Merdon, knowing it was the only way. “I don’t care anymore. You can have me until I die if that’s what you want. Hopefully, it will be over sooner than either of us expect.”
Anger washed over his features. He bared his teeth and stalked close to me.
“You will not give up.”
“I already have.”
“No, this is a lie like all the other lies you tell yourself and others.”
He began to circle me.
“I see what’s inside you. I know your anger. It calls to my own. I recognize your pain. I’ve lived with my own for many lifetimes. You will not give up because, like me, you don’t know how. You will cling to this life even when it’s one you don’t want.”
He stopped behind me, and the weight of my jacket settled over my shoulders.
“I don’t need your submission. You will choose to be mine.”
His words sparked my temper. I tried to smother it, to bring back the numbness that let me not care, but he was right. I couldn’t seem to let go.
Turning, I lifted my gaze to his.
“Never.”
A slow grin spread over his lips in response to my whispered word.
“Fight it, Hannah. Fight it with every breath. Give me your fire.”
I’d give him something.
I balled my fist and punched him. My knuckles cracked against his rock-hard abs. He chuckled low.
“Again.”
So I did.
I hit him over and over, right then left, using him like a punching bag even as I knew my mighty blows were no more damaging than a gnat to him. My jacket fell from my shoulders.
Sweat beaded my upper lip, despite the temperature, by the time I stopped. Spent, I tipped forward, resting my forehead on his sternum.
His hand settled on my crown. After a moment, it smoothed over my hair. I couldn’t bring myself to pull away because I needed his familiar, comforting touch. Could I be any more twisted? I’d just pummeled his stomach because I didn’t want him laying claim to me, and now I was docilely lingering in his hold.
“This doesn’t mean anything,” I said.
“I know.”
“Good.”
He stroked my hair until I pulled away and picked up my jacket. We walked back to the house in silence.
I wasn’t sure what to expect when the door closed behind us, but it sure wasn’t an angry order to go change and meet him in the basement within his stupid five-minute limit.
“How do you even know when five minutes have passed?” I asked, not moving.
“I don’t.”
“You’re ridiculous. And so are your stupid, made-up rules.”
“Four minutes.”
I glared at him. His gaze raked over me from head to toe.
“The skirt is going to slow you down.”
Whirling, I raced upstairs. The ass needed to be taken down a few pegs. But how? I wished there was a way to slow him down. Maybe then I’d have a chance to hit him in the balls.
“Three minutes,” he called from below.
Oh, how I wished I could watch him choke on his own testicles.
I stripped from the dress and tugged on a pair of leggings and a long-sleeved shirt. Bite protection. Rushing, I twisted my hair into a knot at the top of my head then left my room.
Merdon was already in the basement when I jogged downstairs. I briefly considered the front door, but I no longer felt an urge to run. Maybe it was because I knew I wouldn’t get anywhere. Or maybe I just wanted to face off with Merdon in the basement. Oh, I knew he planned to put me through hell, but the need to give back more than he gave overrode any good sense I had left.
I shook my head at my pathetic attempt to rationalize why I wasn’t trying to leave and forced myself to admit the truth. When I was fighting Merdon, I wasn’t thinking of the past or how to survive the future. I was in the moment, dealing with just one problem. Him. Even with the spankings and the biting, facing him was easier than facing any of my other issues.
He was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs and didn’t say anything as I walked past him to take my place on the center of the mat. That was good. I didn’t want words. I wanted action. I wanted to feel like I had a chance to influence the outcome, for a change.
I crouched low, initiating the start for the first round.
He studied me for a moment then mimicked the move.
We watched each other, both waiting for the tell that would give away the other’s thoughts. Since I wasn’t thinking, I doubted he was getting much from me, so I settled in for a wait, however long it might be.
“Patience?” he asked. “We both know you don’t have any. Where are your balls now?”
I smiled. “Your goading isn’t going to work. Not this time.”
“It will. I only need to find the right words.”
He shifted his weight, sliding a step to the right. I turned slightly, following him.
“Go ahead. There’s nothing you can—”
“Whose death do you carry? Who haunts your dreams?”
I flew at him, letting all the raw pain that his words evoked well up and fuel my moves. Spinning on my heel just before I reached him, I drove my elbow into his middle at the same time I stomped down on his instep. He grunted, and I felt him bend ever so slightly. It wasn’t enough to throw my head back into his nose, so I turned again, facing him, and brought my knee up.
Only his quick reflexes prevented a full-on bashing of his precious feyby-making testicles. The partial graze was effective enough to sap the strength from his knees. He slowly folded in, resting in a prayerful pose…if cupping one’s groin was common in prayer.
I whooped and fist-pumped the air.
“Yes! How does that feel? Failure means pain, Merdon. Suck on that.”
He growled as he lifted his head.
I only had time to think “oh, shit,” before he launched himself at me. His shoulder hit my knees, and I crashed to the mat like a felled tree.
Air whooshed out of me. He didn’t give me a moment to catch my breath. Weighing me down with his torso, he grabbed my hands and slammed them into the mat above my head.
“That is why no one else will want you. You laugh at another’s pain or ignore it completely. You are a selfish creature, blind to what could be because of what was.”
His harsh words hurt, and I tugged on my hands, wishing I could lash out. He laughed at my attempt and held me tighter.
“Your need to hurt me tells me the truth. Were you always like this, Hannah? Mean and selfish?”
An unbidden tear leaked from the corner of my eye.
“Were you always this big of a hypocritical asshole?”
He frowned at me.
“Yeah, that’s right,” I said angrily. “Hypocrite. You call me mean even as you’re holding me down. How many bruises do I have because of you? How many times have you forced me to do something I didn’t want to do?”
He snarled and changed his hold on my hands. His fingers bit into my skin as he grabbed my jaw.
“The only thing I’ve forced you to do is live. You will live. I will not lose what is mine.”
Before I could guess what he intended, his lips came down on mine. I fought to turn away, but his hold on my jaw kept me in place as the pressure of his fingers forced me to open for him. He swallowed my sound of protest and struck me senseless with the first swipe of his tongu
e.
It was a harsh, punishing kiss, but heat flared out from my middle, regardless. I forgot to keep trying to pull my hands free and lost myself to the hungry stroke of his tongue and the way his legs were trapping mine.
He surrounded me, consumed me, and stirred a hunger hardly explored. And, he laid bare a need I didn’t even know existed.
With a growl, he tore his lips from mine and stood.
“Stay here.”
Then, he was gone.
I lay on the mat, panting for air and shaking all over. Lifting a hand, I touched my lips and wondered what the hell had just happened.
I’d thought my reaction to his bite a fluke, but it wasn’t. My body wanted Merdon even when my brain told me to run far and fast from that fey. I’d made a grave mistake in thinking that Merdon was an easy problem to solve. He was anything but easy.
Running my fingers over my puffy lips, I wondered what I was supposed to do about this new discovery. How could I fight what I felt when I didn’t fully understand what I wanted?
It took several minutes for the trembling to stop and another minute before I could stand. I made it up the stairs and as far as the couch before I had to sit again. Staring blankly at the dark television, I tried to string two logical thoughts together.
Merdon believed I was his. But, I didn’t want to belong to any fey. Why? Because the fey were needy, and I didn’t want needy. I wanted freedom. Why? So I could drink myself to death.
That last thought ground everything to a halt.
No, I didn’t want to drink myself to death; I just wanted to have a little peace while I slept. At least, that was how the drinking had started. Just a glass or two before bed. The amount in my cups had gradually increased whenever the dreams had started creeping back in until I was passing out every night. Then, I’d started drinking during the day to drown out the guilt that haunted me during my waking hours.
I rubbed a hand over my face, hating that one dumb kiss had exposed so many ugly truths. My life was just one big pile of fucked-up-ness, and the instigator of my latest mind-fuck was out roaming the streets of Tolerance. He was probably coming up with some new, evil plan to make me miserable and mess with my head further.
He had to go. My life didn’t need more complications; it needed fewer.