by ML Michaels
Who did he think he was? She was his employee, not a prisoner here. If he had been interested in her, which he clearly wasn’t, he could have said something before now. But he hadn’t. She deserved to be happy, and Parker was a decent person. She stormed off to her quarters in a huff and nearly slammed the door behind her. Before falling asleep, she texted Parker the address of the house and told him to meet her just after 10:00pm.
***
The next morning was dark and overcast, and Rachel woke in a foul mood. With the progression of autumn had come dark and stormy mornings, and today in particular she resented her 5:45am alarm. When she had finally stopped the incessant beeping from her alarm, she pulled on her robe and slippers and made her way out the door and toward the vault. She yawned as she entered the code on the keypad absent mindedly, and at the sound of the seal breaking, pushed the steel door open.
She gasped out loud when she saw him.
It was always bad in the morning, but it had been getting better. The first morning she saw him was the only time he had been completely naked, injured and exhausted, and since then, he had been coming out looking well rested and very similar to how he went in. She still didn’t know what went on in this room at night, and she never asked, but today she wasn’t sure she could go on not knowing anymore.
She rushed to the table and looked down at him. His wrists and ankles were raw and bleeding, the taught muscles in his chest and abdomen pulsing with exertion, and his eyes were bloodshot and raw. His jaw line appeared to have three days worth of stubble, and his usually coiffed hair was ragged and sweaty.
She fumbled to unlock the chains with trembling hands, and when she did, she threw her arms around him.
“What happens to you?” she asked, and found herself sobbing into his shoulder as he sat up slowly. He tried to brush her away, but she took his face in her hands.
“I mean it,” she said and sniffed back a tear, “Who does this to you?”
He raised his eyes to look at hers, dark pools of grey looking beyond her eyes and into her soul. Before she knew what was happening, he reached out for her.
His lips met hers, and he kissed her hungrily, and she responded instinctively. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he lifted her from the floor and pressed her up against one of the padded walls. He pulled her robe away, and his right hand found her left breast and squeezed it. She let out a soft moan and pushed her hips into his. She was aware that he was naked and felt his hardness growing beneath her.
“Do you want me to…” he began, and she nodded, kissing him again.
And then he was in her. She moaned loudly, worried that she would wake the entire house as he thrust. The ecstasy was unimaginable as they moved together as one, his lips on hers, and her arms pulling him closer.
But then she came to her senses.
“Corbin, stop,” she said, and almost immediately, she was standing on the ground.
“I’m sorry,” he said. The sweat fell over his tight, toned chest and abs, and he ran his fingers through his messy hair. She still wanted him, but she knew how wrong it was.
“I work for you,” she said, and he nodded. She gathered her robe and left quickly, both embarrassed and ashamed of what she had done.
Back in her room, she fell onto the bed and slept for another four hours, and when she awoke, she saw there was a tray of breakfast left by one of the maids, with a note from Bart giving her the day off to prepare for her date.
Rachel groaned loudly. In the chaos of that morning, she had forgotten all about Parker. She picked up her phone, fully intending on calling Parker and cancelling, but reconsidered. Why would she? Because she’d had some random, innocuous sex with her boss that morning? She tried to convince herself that it wasn’t a big deal but was unsuccessful. It did mean something to her. She put her phone down nonetheless.
She spent the day roaming around the house, playing a bit on the piano and wandering into the kitchen, asking if they could leave out some snacks and wine for the evening. Corbin was nowhere to be seen. He usually spent his days in the office or in the city meeting with clients. She put him out of her mind and ate her dinner at 7:00 in peace before returning to her room to prepare for the evening.
Corbin did arrive later that evening and ate his dinner alone. Bart called her from the kitchen at 9:45, and she met Corbin in the small hallway. She was wearing dark skinny jeans and a dark green blouse with riding boots. It wasn’t as fancy as her usual dinner attire, but she felt pretty and could tell he was watching her.
Rachel fastened his chains without a word, not because she was angry, but because she was afraid of what she would say. Corbin remained silent as well. As she left, and shut out the light, she turned back and whispered,
“Good night.”
***
Parker arrived at 10:15 bringing with him a bottle of wine and wearing a sport coat. His hair was slicked back with an entire bottle of gel, and he smelled like the cologne counter at Nordstrom.
“You look hot,” he said, and handed his jacket to Bart without a look in his direction.
“Thanks,” Rachel said, and gave Bart a sympathetic smile once Parker had walked further into the room.
“Shit, you live here?” Parker asked.
“I work here,” Rachel corrected, and Parker shrugged, “The movie room is upstairs.”
Rachel grabbed the two wine glasses that Bart had left out for her and led Parker up the stairs. While Parker chose a movie, a classic horror film that he described as ‘a cinematic masterpiece,’ Rachel opened the bottle of wine. When he saw her, he rushed to her side.
“Please, my dear. Allow me,” he said and fussed over the glasses while she went to dim the lights.
“Am I going to be scared out of my mind?” Rachel asked, as she slid back onto the leather sectional. His arm draped easily around her and handed her the glass of Merlot.
“I’ll be here to protect you,” he said, and she took a deep sip to keep from gagging.
The movie itself started predictably enough. A blonde with massive breasts was getting out of the shower when she discovered her entire family had been murdered downstairs. The plot seemed weak, but Rachel dreaded the idea of starting another movie and having this man around any longer.
She stole a glance in his direction. His jawline was softer than Corbin’s, but he was handsome nonetheless. She had noticed before that his eyes were an inky blue, and pretty, but lacked the intensity to which she had become accustomed. His arm had found its way dangerously close to her right breast, and she watched it in her peripheral vision. He wasn’t terrible, but something felt wrong, and she was in no mood to deal with it.
As the film pressed on in predictable fashion, Rachel began to feel light headed from the wine. She set her glass down and rubbed her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Parker asked, quickly resting his own glass on the coffee table and turning toward her, both hands now on her hips.
“Nothing,” she said. The words took a long time to reach her mouth from her brain, and her eyelids felt heavy. The sound from the movie was muted background noise, the dialogue blurring together into a far away echo.
That was when she felt his hands on her. First they were around her waist and pulling her down from the sitting position. She felt his weight shift on top of her, and his lips on her neck.
“S-stop,” she heard herself say through her nonworking mouth. She tried to push him off, but her arms were feeble and ineffective. She wanted so badly to just let herself fall asleep.
His meaty hands unbuttoned her shirt and fumbled with the clasp on her bra. She felt her small breasts spill from the cups, and she began to cry with frustration.
“Get off,” she screamed, in a voice that was comically tiny.
She saw him smile at her through her fogged vision.
“You know you want this,” he said and he sat up, pulling at the zipper on his jeans.
She tried screaming again, but couldn’t hear anything come out. She trembled again as
he sank on top of her. His mouth was on hers, and she tried to bite him but couldn’t. She felt the last of her strength fall out of her, just as the door to the room crashed off of its hinges.
Rachel forced her eyes open and felt Parker’s heavy weight pulled violently from her body. Her adrenaline kicked in when she heard a decisive bang, and what sounded like a large object being thrown against the opposite wall. She forced herself into a sitting position and saw a large animal standing on two legs hunched over Parker’s crumpled form. She sat frozen, her eyes convincing her brain that she was dreaming this impossible sight. This creature was large, burly and covered in a dark, coarse hair. It looked in her direction with sad, human-like eyes. She realized with shock that she was looking at a gorilla, an animal so close to humans that it looked familiar to her. She forced herself to blink and when she had opened her eyes again, the creature gave an ear splitting roar that she was sure would wake her from her dream.
Parker began to stir at the creature’s feet, and it roared again beating its chest menacingly. The creature raised its massive head and against the glow of the dim television light, Rachel caught a glimpse of a shockingly familiar jaw line just as it reached down and picked Parker up roughly and held him over his head.
“NO!” she screamed with all her might, afraid the gorilla was going to kill Parker.
Before she blacked out, she saw two glittering grey eyes rise to meet hers from across the room.
***
Rachel woke several hours later, believing with absolute certainty that the events of the night before had been nothing but a dream. Before she could even open her eyes, she could feel the heavy weight of a man on top of her, and realized that Parker must have fallen asleep after he had finished forcing himself on her.
She tried to sit up and found his form too heavy to move. She adjusted to the dim, early morning light and realized that this person looked nothing like Parker. The hair on his head was longer, darker, and she realized with horror, coarser.
Gasping loudly, finally finding her voice, she pushed herself upwards against the arm of the sofa as the creature on top of her stirred. It raised its head and met her gaze. Most of the hair had gone from its face, and she could see clearly that the face was Corbin’s. His eyes were wide and watery and seemed to plead with her as she drew away.
“Rachel,” he said, and coughed. His voice was deeper and raspier from his roars, but it was him. She still couldn’t believe it.
“You…did you…kill…?” she stuttered, and he sat back on his knees.
“That disgusting excuse for a man?” Corbin asked, and she could see the fire in his eyes returning, “He was about to rape you, Rachel. He drugged you, and he was going to rape you.”
“How do you know he drugged me?” Rachel asked, though in her heart she knew it was true.
“I could smell it,” he said, the tendons in his neck relaxing and shaking his head slightly. The room had gotten lighter, and his hair was returning to normal. His chest was gleaming with sweat, and he was out of breath. But he was relaxing much more easily than he had the morning before.
“So you killed him?” Rachel asked.
“I should have,” he said, and let out a much more human snarl.
“Where is he?” she asked, checking every corner of the room.
“He was taken care of this morning. Left a message for his parents and went off to Montana to pursue his dream of being a ranch hand,” Corbin said with a sideways smirk.
“I don’t understand,” Rachel said. She wasn’t sure if it was the drugs or the sheer ludicrousness of the events, but she was unable to wrap her mind around it all.
“Shifting has run in my family as far back as history takes us,” Corbin said and ran a now declawed hand through his hair, “When my father died, his ‘abilities’ passed on to me. He was able to control his shifts.”
He looked down and fumbled with the blanket on the couch, seemingly unaware of his nakedness. She hated herself for finding him attractive at such a vulnerable moment.
“But you can’t,” she offered.
“Not until I met you,” he said, and looked up to meet her gaze, “I’ve had hundreds of caretakers over the years. Most of them quit long before I show them the vault. Once they realize I’m not some playboy paying them for sex, they split. Those who have seen it, think there’s something sinister at play, so they go, too scared to ever tell anyone what they’ve seen.”
“I almost did,” Rachel said, and found herself laughing, “But then I thought someone was hurting you.”
He smiled.
“I don’t blame you. But for the last few weeks, I don’t know, I have barely been shifting at all. And when I am, I can control when and for how long. Before two nights ago, I thought about telling you to leave me out for the night.”
“What changed?” she asked, but she knew the answer already.
“I felt at peace when we are together,” he began, “But I’ve been terrified of getting too close to you. You’ve seen what I can do. I’m a monster, and all it took was you going on a date with some little prick to make me snap and get out of control again.”
He buried his face in his hands and gave a small shudder.
“You did control it though,” Rachel said softly, “I said ‘no,’ and you stopped. You didn’t kill him, Corbin. You can control it, with practice.”
She was speaking as if she was an authority on the subject, but she believed it.
“Do you really think so?” he asked.
She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder blade. His skin was hot to the touch, but she kept close anyway.
“You have shown me more kindness than anyone I’ve ever known,” she said, and he raised his head.
“I love you, Rachel. I know it sounds crazy, and you have every right to…”
“I love you too,” she said, the words falling out of her mouth.
He leaned in and pulled her close, his mouth finding hers with none of the desperate hunger that it held the morning before. He kissed her gently, his hand drifting to the delicate curve of her neck, and she pulled him closer to her.
They made love softly and more gently than the day before, until the end when he unleashed a bit of the animal that was inside him and she moaned in ecstasy. They fell naked and sweaty into each other’s arms and stayed that way for a long time.
Afterword
The applause was deafening. Rachel stepped forward and took a third and final bow as the audience leaped to their feet. She beamed proudly into the dark, faceless, mass before her, as she clutched the hand of her handsome co-star.
She was hot in her stage makeup, and eager to be out of her heavy costume, but she stood for just one more moment, basking in the light and love that defined this night. As the curtain drew, she remembered a dream that she had so many years ago, and laughed to herself.
Backstage awaited a handsome man, the most handsome man she had ever seen. He was wearing a navy suit, carrying a bouquet of roses and had a pretentious haircut that he refused to change. But she loved him nonetheless.
“It’s after 10:00, isn’t it?” she asked with a wry smile.
“Well look at that,” he answered, and leaned down to give her a kiss, “That was amazing. I’m so sorry I ever made fun of you for being an actress.”
“That’s right, joke’s on you,” Rachel said, and playfully snatched the flowers from his hands.
It had been a big step coming here tonight. Over the past few years, Rachel and Corbin had worked to channel his outbursts into positivity. He rarely had uncontrollable shifts anymore, and they were always at night. He had resumed running the company business and was the happiest he had ever been.
“Are you going out with the cast and crew?” he asked.
“I don’t know if that’s a great idea,” she said, putting one hand gently on her low belly.
“Did you tell them?” he asked, raising one eyebrow.
“Not yet,” she said, “I want some time to en
joy our little family first.”
He gave her another, deeper kiss.
“Aren’t you worried he’ll be just like me?” Corbin asked her, fixing the same steely eyes on hers.
“I hope he’s exactly like you,” Rachel said.
The End
*****
About the Authors — The Book Club Writers
ML Michaels is a pen name of several members of a book club in New England who got tired of reading the typical book club selections. Instead of disbanding, they started writing their own stories between soccer games and work projects. These stories spiced up their book club meetings, and as you can imagine, attendance skyrocketed. After much coaxing from the lone professional writer in the group, they are now publishing their stories to share the romance, mystery — and fun — with others!
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