“Oh, right.”
Had she been hoping he might need to take her from the building in order for her to perform the treatments to his face? Yes, though she’d not wanted to build false hope on the possibility. She’d thought he’d take her to a private hospital, or clinic. She didn’t think he’d have bought his own. She hoped he’d not bought the type of handheld laser that could be purchased for home use over the internet. Those kinds of lasers would make no difference to his face. He needed a top of the range, professional cosmetic laser—the best money could buy—but that would put him back tens of thousands of dollars.
Lily followed Monster out of the room and into the long, wide hallway. Corniced ceilings and white paneled walls combined with dark wood floors. Her eyes sought daylight, hoping for a window positioned somewhere along the wall, but there was none. Where was this place? What was this place? If she hadn’t thought it crazy, she’d have started to believe she was in some kind of underground bunker.
“Will you tell me something?” she asked as she followed his broad back down the hallway.
He glanced over his shoulder at her, the unmarked side of his face toward her, so she could almost have imagined he was perfect. “That depends.”
She hesitated and then said, “Would you tell me what the time is?”
A smile touched one corner of his lips. “It’s nine o’clock.”
“In the morning, or the evening?”
“In the morning, Flower.” He turned back to face the way he was walking, but continued to talk. “It’s the start of a brand new day.”
She lifted her eyebrows in disbelief. Was it just her, or did he sound … happy?
Her desire to come across a window was short-lived when Monster came to stop outside a door on the right hand side of the corridor. He reached out and pushed open the door, and stepped inside the room.
“Please,” he said, sweeping his hand forward in a gesture for her to enter. “This will be your clinic.”
Cautiously, Lily stepped into the room. The place was almost empty, with the exception of a stainless steel cabinet that appeared to be bolted to the white, painted walls, the type of bed found in a doctor’s office, and the large professional laser machine standing beside the bed.
A small part of her relaxed. He had paid out for the best technology. She still wouldn’t be able to completely remove the birthmark, but with this type of powerful machine, she should be able to make it fade.
“Well?” he said, eyeing her curiously. “What do you think?”
Did he feel proud of himself for what he’d created? Somehow in his warped mind did he think she was going to praise him?
“I can work with this,” she said, running her fingers along the top of the machine.
“Good.” He nodded. “That’s good.”
“So what now?” she asked.
“I think you could do with a hot shower and a decent meal. I need you to be refreshed and focused for our first session.”
She nodded. “Thank you. That would be great.”
They left the equipment and walked back to her room. Was that how she was thinking of the space now, as her room?
She walked in and turned to face him.
“I still have to lock the door,” he said. “I hope you understand.”
“Of course.”
She would let him think he’d won, but she swore to herself that she’d never stop searching for a way out of this situation. She’d never allow him to break her completely, to make her give up hope. She’d always have hope.
Monster stepped farther into the room with her, closing the gap between them. Still his proximity affected her, as though he gave off an electrical charge her body reacted to. He was both beautiful and horrifying, and while she hated him with every inch of her being, she couldn’t help but be drawn to him.
He reached out and touched her hair, sweeping it away from her neck and over her shoulder. Her whole body went rigid, her breath locked in her chest.
“I’m glad we’re able to work together, Flower,” he said, his dark eyes searching hers. “You had me worried for a while.”
She did her best not to tremble.
Then he flashed her the briefest of smiles and turned away.
As he left he said, “The hot water will be back on in five.”
Eleven
Just as Monster had promised, the hot water was switched back on.
Lily stood beneath her first hot shower in days and tilted her head back, allowing the warm water to course through her hair and down over her body. She used the scented soap to lather her hair and skin, and wash away the grime from the last few days. She’d done her best to stay clean, but hadn’t been able to bring herself to take a freezing cold shower. As she ran her hands over her body, she marveled at the change in her shape. Her fingers ran over her hip bones, skirted the outline of ribs down her torso. She had to hold back a bark of bitter laughter. If only she’d known a little kidnapping and starvation was all it took to get rid of those love handles she’d hated for the past ten years.
She turned off the water, climbed out of the shower, and toweled herself dry. Walking into the bedroom with one towel wrapped around her body, as she rubbed a smaller towel against her damp hair, she headed to the closet. She selected an outfit similar to the one she’d been wearing—smart pants and a long sleeved t-shirt—together with fresh underwear, and got dressed.
A knock came at the door and she turned, expecting Monster to walk back into the room, ready for his first session. But instead of a person, a tray slid across the wooden floor and came to a standstill. The door slammed shut again, and she heard the lock click back in place.
Lily looked either side of her, wondering once more if she was being watched, but the waft of fragrant spices drifted over—garlic, oregano, and something citrus—and her stomach twisted with hunger.
She took a couple of hesitant steps toward the tray. Every fiber of her body urged her to run to it, to drop to her knees and shove the food into her mouth with her hands. But the sensible part of her brain made her pause. Why the sudden change in food from the dry bread? Was it a reward for her agreeing to help Monster, or was there more to it? The meal might be poisoned, perhaps laced with a sedative? Somehow, the sensible clothes, the warm bath and toiletries, didn’t match up with someone who would drug her food. Anyway, Monster wouldn’t want her to be drugged while she operated the laser.
He’s bought you from someone who beat you and kidnapped you. Don’t pretend for one second that you know how this man’s mind works.
She didn’t even know the man, even less his mind.
Perhaps she should refuse the food, drugged or not. Part of her wanted to refuse it on principle, to tell these men to take the meal and shove it. But she was so hungry she felt hollow, a sickening ache she’d never experienced before. At no time in her life had she ever been so hungry. Even when she’d been mourning, she’d still managed tiny amounts of food. She simply didn’t have the willpower to resist.
She took a couple of steps closer, the scents growing stronger, and whatever amount of willpower she had left dissolved. She ran the last couple of yards, falling to her knees beside the tray. It was a meat of some kind—beef or pork—in a tomato based sauce, with rice and beans on the side. A spoon sat beside the plate, which was also plastic, and she grabbed it and dug in, shoveling food into her mouth. Hot spices, sweet tomato, meat that fell apart, soft rice and beans, were all crammed into her mouth. She barely gave herself time to savor the tastes as she chewed only enough to allow her to swallow. She couldn’t eat fast enough.
Before she’d even registered that she’d finished, the spoon scraped the bottom of the plastic plate. Lily threw it to one side and picked up the plate to lick the residue of sauce from the bottom. A plastic cup of water sat to one side—something she hadn’t even noticed due to her focus on the food—and she picked it up and gulped down the contents.
With everything gone, she exhaled a sigh and sat
back. She waited for a moment, wondering how her stomach would react to the sudden influx of rich, spicy food, but thankfully, it settled. Right away, she felt stronger. Now she was clean, clothed, and fed, she felt more like her old self.
Anger at what had happened to her rose up inside her like an uncoiling snake. She was an independent, educated, intelligent woman, and some asshole had just come along and taken her like she was a piece of property that could be owned. She needed to get out of this room, and as there were no windows, or vents, or anything else she could see, the only way out was through the door. She needed to wait and seize her opportunity. She’d already been allowed out of her room and down the hallway. Perhaps soon she’d be allowed farther, and then she might get far enough to find some clues about where she was being held. She might even see a telephone which she could plot to reach another time.
She glanced down at the tray, her eyes lighting on the abandoned spoon. Slowly, she reached out and picked it back up. Using her forefinger, she pressed the bowl of the spoon back as far as she dared without it breaking and allowed it to twang back.
Lily bit at her lower lip, and glanced around again. Was someone watching? She’d believed more than once that cameras were in the room, a way of keeping an eye on her. She needed to be careful.
Did she dare do this? She’d told herself she’d go with what Monster wanted in order to try and see if there were other options open to her. If she upset him, she might find herself back in solitary confinement again, with only bread and cold showers. But she also reminded herself of her promise to never give up. She didn’t need to do anything right at this moment, but she should be prepared and take an opportunity when one presented itself.
Lily cupped the spoon in her hand and got to her feet. Where could she go where she wouldn’t be seen?
Her gaze flicked to the wardrobe. There wouldn’t be cameras in there.
Knowing she’d only call attention to herself if she tried to climb inside, she walked up to it and opened the door. She reached inside as though rifling through the clothing again, and quickly pressed the end of the spoon. This time she didn’t allow the head to come back, but snapped it in her hand, leaving a sharp, jagged end.
Her heart pounded. She’d created a weapon. A flimsy, and not terribly effective weapon, perhaps, but a weapon nevertheless. If she could stab Monster somewhere vulnerable with it—in the eye or the balls—it might just buy her time to run past him.
Lily dropped the top part of the spoon into the wardrobe and palmed the homemade shank. Not knowing where else to put it, she slipped it up the sleeve of her shirt, feeling it hard against the inside of her wrist.
Not wanting to sit on the bed—being on it had too many implications—she dropped to sit on the floor beside the bed and leaned her back against the side. She could do nothing more than sit and wait.
The minutes passed, and Lily mulled over what might have been happening at home. What day was it now? She must have been reported missing by now and people would be looking for her. Her abandoned car in the parking lot beneath her clinic would have attracted attention, unless Cigarette Hands had moved the vehicle to prevent exactly that happening. Of course, even if she had been reported missing—her work colleagues would hopefully have figured out she wasn’t just sick by now—the police wouldn’t think to look outside the country. No part of her hoped for some kind of miraculous rescue. Armed police wouldn’t be breaking down the doors to get to her any time soon.
The door clicked open and every muscle in her body went rigid. She scrambled to her feet, the inside of her wrist pressed against the place where the handle of the spoon was hidden.
The door opened and Monster entered the room.
Lily tensed, her eyes wide. He glanced at her, before looking down at the empty tray. He studied it for a moment, his eyes narrowing, the lines on his forehead deepening in his concentration.
Her stomach was in knots. Heat crept up from her chest and spread up her neck and over her cheeks. The broken end of the spoon felt the size of a machete down her sleeve, and she had to stop herself from panting in her stress.
He lifted his hard, brown gaze to hers. “I hope you understand the people here are not stupid. We’re not like the goons who took you initially.”
She forced herself to meet his gaze, challenging. “No? Any man who keeps a woman against her will is a lot worse than a goon in my eyes.”
He held out his hand. “Just give me the spoon.”
Her lips thinned. “What spoon?”
He gave an exasperated sigh as though she were no more than an irritating child. “I’d hoped we were past this sort of nonsense, Flower.”
She slipped the broken spoon from her sleeve, trying to make it appear as though she’d simply been nonchalantly holding it, rather than plotting to take out his eye with the jagged end, and held it out to him. Her hand shook.
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” she said. “I pressed too hard on the plate while I was eating and it snapped, that’s all.”
“If that’s all, why were you trying to hide it?”
She pressed her lips together. “I didn’t want you to be mad that I’d broken your property.”
He took a couple of strides across the room and wrapped his strong fingers around her wrist, holding up the hand which still clutched the snapped spoon. He brandished it in front of her face, and she cowered back.
He leaned in toward her, brushing her cheek with his to speak low into her ear. “Don’t make me punish you, Flower. Things happen to me when I have to punish a woman. The monster you see on my face is nothing compared to the monster that lies within.”
His scent washed over her, his dominating presence, the strange dual beauty of his face. From the little she knew about him, this man had lived a life she could barely even comprehend. Having him in such close proximity, while he growled veiled threats into her ear, stirred something deep inside her. Years had passed since she’d experienced such sensations about anyone, and she pressed her thighs together, trying to suppress her reaction.
She was messed up. What was this? Some kind of syndrome? She was sure she’d read about it somewhere, about a captive becoming attracted to the person who’d taken her. Was that what was happening here?
No, it wasn’t just that. She could never imagine being attracted to someone like Cigarette Hands, who’d first taken her, but something about this intense, mysterious man spoke to her.
He leaned back out from her, his fingers still wrapped around her wrists. Their eyes locked, the air fraught with tension between them. His chest rose and fell, his breath as shallow as hers, and she knew whatever she’d felt had been experienced by him, too.
“Whatever you’re thinking, Flower, stop it right now.”
Her face flared with heat. How did he read her so well? It was so unfair. He seemed to know every little thing she did or was thinking, and yet she knew absolutely nothing about how his mind worked.
“I … I wasn’t thinking anything.”
He smirked. “One moment you want to stab me, and then next you want to fuck me. I think you might be even more screwed up than I am.”
She yanked her wrist away, and he reached out with his other hand and plucked the makeshift weapon from her grasp. He pushed it into the back pocket of his pants.
“Don’t ask for what you can’t handle,” he said, finally releasing her wrist.
“Considering what you’ve put me through over the past week, I don’t think you have any right to question what I can or can’t handle.”
That stopped him and he stared at her, his gaze scouring her face. “You interest me, too. That could be a dangerous thing. I need to trust you with a laser. How am I supposed to do that when I can’t even trust you with a plastic spoon?”
“I’m a professional,” she replied. “I would never abuse a patient’s trust, even a patient who has had me kidnapped.”
He smiled, flashing perfect, straight white teeth. “That’s good to know. I’ll ar
range our first session shortly.”
Monster left the room, taking the empty tray and bowl with him, and Lily dropped down onto the edge of the bed, her head in her hands. What the hell was wrong with her? Was she actually thinking of treating his birthmark? Could she bring herself to use the laser to hurt him—to burn out those beautiful brown eyes and make a run for it? Something about using the laser to harm, after she’d spent her whole life using it to heal, turned her stomach.
Or was it the idea of the laser that turned her stomach, or the idea of hurting Monster?
No, she’d hurt him if she had to. She’d been contemplating using the end of the spoon to stab him, hadn’t she? If only he’d not noticed it missing, and given her time to hide the makeshift weapon and come up with a plan, then she would have used it.
The problem was Monster wasn’t going to be the only thing she needed to get past to get to safety. She already knew he had at least two other people working for him who lived in the house, so she’d also need to get by them. Plus, she didn’t know how tightly locked down this place was. What if, as she’d wondered, the whole property was actually built beneath ground, and so there were no windows to escape from, and only an exit which she imagined wouldn’t be left unlocked.
Simply injuring Monster wasn’t going to be enough.
She would have to kill him.
If she killed him, the people who worked for him wouldn’t have any reason to keep her here. Perhaps they’d even be grateful to her for getting rid of him. For all she knew, they might be here against their will, too.
But could she kill someone? Actually take a life with her bare hands?
Did she have it in her?
Monster (Eleven Years Earlier)
Several weeks passed before another girl was brought to him.
During that time, Monster had run his experience with the prostitute over and over in his head, his hand firmly around his cock, masturbating himself to climax. The memory brought with it a secret, dirty thrill. He knew he shouldn’t be taking any pleasure in the experience, but he was young and utterly inexperienced. He’d never been taught how to behave with a woman—or with anyone, for that matter. How was he to know if what had happened was any different to any other young man’s first encounter with a woman?
Defaced: A Dark Romance Novel Page 9