by Amber Lacie
Her hoarse voice cracked as the last few words fell from her lips. Fuck me. Monsters did this to her. I had a choice to make––either she could see me as a hero or a monster. I wasn’t here for glory, I was here for revenge, and I let that slip through my fingers just to silence her screams. My jaw ticked. Looks like I’m choosing monster.
“Are you a fortune teller?” She shook her head no. “Then what makes you think I’m here to die.”
“Saint will never let me go. He told me so himself. The only way I’m leaving this house is in a body bag. If you try to take me, they’ll just kill you, and I’ll be left down here to rot.”
“You’re their toy, their plaything––you’re a possession. What makes you think you can’t be sold?” I watched as a shiver crawled up her spine as I stepped closer to her. She tried to hide it, but I could see the effect I had on her. She was scared of me. She tried desperately to wet her dry, cracked lips with a quick lick of her tongue. “They––they can’t do that.”
“And why not?” I asked, taking another step forward.
“Ben––don’t play with her.” Jim’s firm voice echoed around the small room. Is he warning me? Too bad for him, I had already caught on to his plan. Everything was going down one-way, mine. And I didn’t need his mouth ruining it.
“And why not, Jim? That’s what you wanted all along, isn’t it? She could be my new plaything, a new distraction.” His shoulders dropped. Gotcha. “Well, Jim, today must be your day. There’s at least one dead fucking body upstairs and I’m not explaining it to the police when they show up. There’s no telling if anyone heard it either. These fucking walls are practically paper. Some half-assed crack house with a whore in the basement––there’s no way this is looking good for either of us. Pack her shit, she belongs to me now!”
The tick in my jaw immediately snapped him into action. Jumping to his feet, he quickly made his way to the doorway. His large frame blocking the only exit made the room feel so much smaller. “What’s the plan, boss?”
“Saint’s in his room––clean him up and dump him. Fill your pack with everything you can, head into town and drop it off somewhere it won’t be found until we can get the location to Beckett. I hate bringing him into this, but with Aaron out of the picture, I don’t have a choice. I’m taking her with me.”
“Where?”
“Does it fucking matter? You wanted me here, now clean up the fucking mess before I have to add more dead bodies to it.” He nodded his head as he turned his back to me. “Oh, and Jim, knock it off with the fucking boss bullshit or I’ll turn into Ox. Ya’ hear me?”
“Loud and clear, Benny, loud and clear.” Jim stepped out of the room, leaving me with the girl.
“Sit. We need to go over some ground rules first.”
Obeying, she plopped down on the dirty bed. For the first time since I had stepped into the room, I took a good look at her. Dirt covered every square inch of her skin, and her small hipbone stuck out above the loose shorts she had tied around her waist. I’m not sure if they had fit her at some point, or if they had just given her some random persons clothes, but nothing fit her. Hazel eyes followed my every movement as I sat down beside her.
“Go ahead and say what you want. It doesn’t matter; none of you can hurt me anymore. Not where it counts anyway. That part of me died a long time ago.” She sniffled, wiping her nose on the back of her hand, leaving of smudge of dirt behind. God, she was fucking beautiful, and not in a, ‘I want to fuck and leave her,’ kind of way. Nah, her beauty was in the pain surrounding her. She was a flower in a forest full of thorns.
“Tell me what they did to you.”
“Why? So you can fuck me like they did?”
She had me there. I wanted to fuck her. God help me, but I did. I had always fallen hard for things I couldn’t keep, and she was no different. However, unlike the assholes that had held her prisoner, I didn’t want to hurt her. I’m such a monster. She’s destroyed, and I can’t shake the thought of sinking my dick into her. “I’m not going to fuck you. Not here anyway.” All I wanted at that moment was to wrap her up and put her high on a shelf, where no one could reach her. She wasn’t theirs anymore; she was mine. And I needed to know more about her. “What’s your name?”
Silence. It was obvious she wasn’t going to reveal anything without force. And that was something I wasn’t willing to do. At least not right then. If she wanted me to be like them, if that made it easier, I was willing to play that game.
“Do you know how perfect you are?” I asked, eyeing her up and down. “I saw the way they passed you around like a doll with strings. They moved their fingers and you danced with vacant eyes, wishing you were anywhere but there. You’re not theirs anymore, Puppet. You’re mine. I’ve cut your strings and now I’ll show you what it’s like to be free.”
“Don’t call me that. I hate nicknames.”
“You won’t tell me your name, so what else am I supposed to call you?”
“I don’t want to be a puppet,” she snapped.
“What do you want to be?”
“Free,” she whispered, casting her eyes to the dusty window above her head. Guilt began to eat at me, knowing she was going from one cage to another. At least the one I offered would be bigger. She’d be able to breathe, and she would be safe.
“If I promise not to hurt you, to keep you safe, and never to pull your strings, will you be my puppet? Will you come home with me?” I asked softly.
Her gaze bore holes into my soul. I knew she didn’t like what I was offering, but what else was I supposed to do? I couldn’t just fucking leave her here. I hate the way I sound spouting off lies about not hurting her. It’s bound to happen, it’s what I do best. I don’t even know why I called her puppet or how I found myself rambling some bullshit about strings. I’m drawn to her. Maybe she’s pulling mine. Maybe I’m her puppet. Whatever the fuck it was, I couldn’t walk away. Not now. Once I entered the house, I had no other choice. There was no coming out of this clean.
“You’re coming with me, whether you like it or not.”
A tear slid down her face clearing a streak in the dirt on her cheek. “You’re no better than them.”
“You’re not wrong, but you’re not right either. I’ve done horrible things in my life, but I would never make you do the things they asked of you. I won’t touch you like that, not until you ask me.”
“What makes you so sure that I’ll ask?”
“What makes you so sure that you won’t?”
She sighed. I had countered her moves of defiance and she was giving in. It’s not like she had a choice. Anyone with a claim to her had either run off with Brendan or had a bullet in their head. “Fine. Anywhere is better than here, right? I’ve dreamt of death; I’ve wanted it for so long, nothing’s going to change that. At least with you I’ll be out of here and they won’t be able to touch me anymore.” She paused, her big hazel eyes staring back at me. “For some reason I can’t shake the feeling that you’re the big bad boy wolf wearing grandma’s bonnet.”
I chuckled at the thought. If only she knew how right she was. She flinched as I reached my hand out towards her. My jaw clenched tightly at the thought of what they had done to her. Each and every one of those sick bastards would pay for what they did. They would be begging for their lives and I’d be the one to end them. I felt the weight of all my choices falling back onto my shoulders as I stood up. “I don’t bite.”
She stared, my open palm waiting for hers. After a brief hesitation she slid her hand into my palm, and I helped her up from the bed. I paused at the doorway with her hand firmly grasped in mine. “I promise, you will never see a room like this again.” I didn’t look back at her for a response. I didn’t need one. It was a promise I was making not only to her, but also to myself.
As we headed up the stairs, I could hear her whisper behind me, “My, what big teeth you have”. It took everything in me not to whisper back, ‘The better to eat you with, my dear.’ The thought
of her skin between my teeth sent a glorious shiver up my spine. With a wolf-like grin, I opened the door, allowing her to escape from one dungeon and into another.
She was mine to play with, and no one else would ever touch her again.
My mind was still reeling from the shock. The day prior, I had woken up to the feeling of someone watching me. The guy with his promises, Jim, was back, and he was asking me to scream. I couldn’t figure out what I was screaming for. Nothing was making sense. All he told me was that someone was there for me and if I wanted out, I needed to scream like someone was snapping every bone in my body. I didn’t hesitate. Inhuman sounds tore through my chest until my throat was raw with fear.
I could hear yelling and heavy footsteps above me, followed by a long calm silence. A few moments later, the guy in the room with me bolted and I was left alone again. He must have heard something I didn’t. I listened, as a loud conversation between him and another man escalated to shouting, just outside my door. All I wanted was to die, to leave the awful life that had me trapped in that room. I listened as footsteps slammed into the wooden stairs. There was a brief moment of silence before a popping noise sounded. The sudden bang of a gun going off had kicked my fear into overdrive. Jim quickly appeared back inside my room. Shutting the door behind him, he told me someone was there for me. Every instinct in me told me to run. Where the fuck would I go?
The door slowly opened, revealing a tall, angry man in the doorway. His hair was slicked with sweat, blood smeared across his knuckles and splattered across his face. His eyes were dark and laced with venom. I looked up at Jim and he smiled. No, this can’t be. Surely this isn’t the man he promised would save me.
The man walked farther into the room. The weight of each step was equally measured to the anger rolling off of his shoulders. I had no doubt in my mind––I was looking at a killer. Everything about him screamed danger and yet, when he offered his hand to me, I took it. What the fuck is wrong with me?
The eerie silence of the house still echoed in my mind. Everyone was gone. Doors were ripped from their frames; papers and wires were scattered all over the living room. My hair stood on end and shivers crept up my spine as we stepped out onto the porch. Looking down at the hand encircling my wrist, I couldn’t help but notice the whiteness of his knuckles standing out against the bruises on my skin left by the others. His jaw ticked as he looked around before walking over to a motorcycle parked in the gravel drive.
“Get on behind me. Put this on,” he said, shoving a helmet into my hand before straddling the bike with his long legs. I looked around for the big guy, but Jim was nowhere to be found.
“Don’t worry about him, he’s got work to do. He’ll catch up to us.” He stared at me over his shoulder.
“Um––” I looked down at my appearance. All I had to cover myself was a thin t-shirt and a pair of loose shorts that barely covered anything.
His gaze followed my lead and ran over my body. “Fuck. Hold on.”
Standing outside in the warm spring air, I watched him as he rushed into the house, only to emerge a few seconds later carrying a pair of jeans and a rope. Without saying a word, he handed me the pants. The jeans were way too big for my frame, but I assumed that’s where the rope came into play. Slipping it through the loops, I tightly knotted it around my waist. The jeans were bunched painfully against my flesh, but at least I had protection.
Straddling the bike once again, he nodded to the seat behind him, his dark eyes warning me of everything horrendous he was capable of. There was no need for him to tell me twice. Slipping the helmet over my head, I carefully wrapped myself around him. I didn’t know him from Adam, but my hands found comfort in the warmth of his body under his jacket. Perhaps it was because I no longer knew the comfort of heat. My hands locked tightly in place, clinging to one another, I closed my eyes tightly as the motor roared to life. It was my first time on the back of a motorcycle, and I was petrified to say the least.
The tires kicked out a few rocks and then we were off, the cold wind brushing over my skin. Goosebumps spread across my body from head to toe. So much for feeling warm.
I didn’t open my eyes again until we were at our location. A motel. To be honest, I was surprised at the condition of the room. It’s not like I expected a five-star location, but I certainly wasn’t expecting bed bugs either. Still, it was a roof over my head, and Saint was no longer able to touch me. Sadness came over me as I realized it was better than anything I had ever known in my life. The dingy, low-lit room had two beds and one bath.
The man hadn’t spoken a word since asking me to put on the helmet, and the urge to know who he was ate at me. As I glanced around the room, the lure of indoor plumbing was calling to me. A long, hot shower sounded heavenly, but I wasn’t sure of our arrangement. Was I free to do as I pleased? Did I need to wait for permission, like I did back at the house? Not sure on what to do next, I looked over at the man now stretched across the bed.
“Um, I don’t know what to call you.”
“Ben is fine,” he growled in response. I began to think I wasn’t there because he wanted me. But it didn’t make sense. Why would someone like him put his neck on the line for me? It was obvious I was there because of Jim. He clicked on the television as I stood perfectly still, trying to figure out my next words.
“Um, Ben, I—”
“What?” his loud voice boomed around me. Obviously, he didn’t want to be bothered so I clamped my mouth shut tightly, still standing in-place. He waved his hand in the air as if allowing me to continue, but my automatic reaction was to flinch. He sighed. “Don’t do that. Look, I’m not going to hurt you. Not like that.”
Not like that? What is that supposed to mean? Is he going to hurt me in some other way? My mind was racing at the thought of the unknown.
“I know this is fucked up. Believe me, I know. Look, why don’t you just go take a shower. You look disgusting.” With a flick of his wrist the volume on the television rose. He was done with me.
As I stepped into the bathroom, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the distorted mirror. Disgusting was a pleasant way to describe my appearance. Bruises and dirt mixed in a cataclysmic display of destruction. Whoever I was, whatever body I had, before existing under Saint’s thumb, was long gone.
Turning on the shower, I cranked the nozzle all the way to hot, allowing the steam to fill the room around me. After several minutes of trying to comb out the knots in my hair I finally gave up, undressed, and carefully stepped into the shower. The hot water cascaded over my body as the bottom of the shower turned into a slick slime of mud and tears. The idea of finally being free from it all was too much. I cried. No, I sobbed. I didn’t care if the man in the other room heard me. It would be years, if ever, before I could recover from what had been done to me. The heat from the water sliced into me, opening wounds I had tried so hard to cover up. The toll from the pain I had experienced over the years had finally broken me. My eyes closed as I imagined the many different men wandering into the dark, musty room to touch me. Nothing I said or did ever deterred them. The fight within me had almost completely diminished. My frail body sank against the walls of the shower until I collapsed on the floor, squeezing my eyes tightly. All I wanted was to forget.
The water that had finally begun to run cold was suddenly warm again. Slowly, I opened my eyes, trying to make sense of the sensation. There, Ben stood, his hand resting on the metal rung of the open shower door. The glimmer of hope I’d held onto shattered in my lungs, leaving me breathless. In that moment I died a thousand deaths. I had let myself believe there was a chance I could escape it all, and there was my captor, staring at my naked body lying in the bottom of the shower. Touch me. Just do it, my mind screamed at him, praying he’d just get it over with.
I watched as he slowly reached into the pocket of his jeans, emptying the contents into the sink. Bending down, he carefully pulled at the strings of his boots. I watched as he slipped one off, followed by the other. Silently,
he removed his socks while looking down at me. This is it. This is the moment that is going to kill me. The memory of the anger rolling off of him from earlier danced in my mind. He was dangerous, and if he was capable of ridding the world of Saint, he could just as easily get rid of me.
I felt the hair on my arms begin to rise as he stepped into the shower. With his clothes still on, he lifted me to my feet before shutting the shower door. My fingers spread open trying to grasp onto anything behind me. I prepared myself for the worst as I closed my eyes, standing naked in front of him. To my surprise, I felt soft, circular motions on my scalp. He was washing my hair.
I felt him reach behind me and a moment later the water warmed. Within seconds, his fingers were back to massaging my scalp once again. Once he was satisfied with my hair, he carefully moved onto the rest of my body. Taking his time, he made sure every inch of my body was free of dirt. The sadness in his eyes when his gaze lingered on my bruises didn’t go unnoticed. Questions flooded my mind, but there were too many to sort. By the time he turned off the water, Ben’s clothes were drenched. Stepping out of the shower, he grabbed a towel and began to dry me off.
Not one word was spoken between us. To be honest, I was enjoying the silence. It’s funny how so much can be said without ever speaking. If he was going to hurt me, he could’ve done it then, however, his hands, nor his words, laid harm to me that night. Just as he’d promised.
Once I was dried off, he dug around in the backpack on the bed, pulling out a pair of sweats and an oversized shirt for me to slip into. Laying them on one of the beds, I slowly began to get dressed. Men I had known in my life would have stood there gawking, exploring my nude form with their eyes. Ben––he was different. He stood with his back towards me, allowing me the privacy of getting dressed alone.