“Please—” she tried again, but he cut her off.
“Just do it,” he snapped, his teeth clenched.
Tears filled her eyes. “It’s going to hurt.”
His voice softened. “I know that, Flower. I deserve the pain.”
“Please, just let me use something, even if it’s just a little of the numbing cream.”
She shouldn’t be feeling sorry for him right now. She should want to hurt him. After everything he’d done to her—stealing her from her life, hitting her, touching her—she should want to take the laser and burn out his fucking eyes and run. Yet, she couldn’t stop her heart hurting for him. He was not a good man, but he was hurting mentally. He was a product of whatever had caused him to stay hidden away like this for all these years. Why hadn’t his parents found him help as a child? If they’d done that, his birthmark could be a faded shadow by now instead of the almost black half mask he wore over his beautiful face.
“Please, Monster,” she tried again. “Just a little of the cream will take the worst of the pain away.”
But he clenched his fists and brought them down hard on the arm rests of the chair, making the chair vibrate. “I said no! Do as you’re told or you will suffer the repercussions.”
Lily bit her lower lip and closed her eyes briefly. If the pain shocked him, would he lunge for her? Beat her?
“What are you waiting for, Flower?” he growled.
She switched on the laser. Positioned it above his birthmark. She pressed the button and the laser started to click, light flashing up on his dark, dark skin.
He sucked air in over his teeth and his hands tightened around the armrests.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” he hissed. “Keep going.”
His pain became a moan low in his throat, his whole body tight and radiating tension. She couldn’t imagine the pain he was in right now. Her emotions warred within her. She should be happy he was suffering, yet her heart broke for him. He’d suffered so much already.
As his moan became a roar, his fingers tight around the armrests, a tear spilled from her eye and rolled down her cheek.
Thirteen
With the session finished, Lily explained the aftercare to Monster.
He looked at her, his eyes slightly narrowed as though contemplating something. “Of course, I have you here, should I need you,” he said.
She thought she saw him attempt to smile, but instead he winced with pain as the expression moved his sore skin.
She nodded. “Yes. I don’t have much choice in that matter.”
“And when will our next session be?”
“I’d advise to wait at least six weeks until we repeat treatment.”
Monster frowned. “Six weeks is too long.”
“That’s how long you’ll need for your skin to heal.”
“Make it two weeks.”
She shook her head. “No! You’ll end up with scarring.”
His lips tightened, his nostrils flaring. “I don’t care. I’d rather be scarred than have this monstrosity on half my face.”
For the first time, she heard the emotional pain in his voice. He’d been carrying this around with him his whole lifetime, had been taught people would pity and be repulsed by him. His father had made him believe he was too hideous to even be allowed into public.
“Please,” she said. “Let’s just wait and see how fast you heal. Some people heal quicker than others, and if that’s the case then we’ll bring it forward a week.”
Lily realized what this meant. She wouldn’t be going home any time soon. She had no idea what he planned to do with her when he finally understood that she wasn’t able to create miracles with a laser—especially not on someone his age. She wouldn’t be able to make the birthmark completely disappear. If she was able to treat a birthmark when it was still young, she could fade it enough to make it unnoticeable, especially with the addition of cover-up makeup. But she guessed Monster was in his late twenties, if not even early thirties, and by this age his type of birthmark took on a raised texture. Plus, Monster’s birthmark was the darkest she’d ever seen.
He folded his arms across his broad chest. “No, that’s not fast enough.”
“What’s the sudden rush?” she blurted. “You’ve looked like you do for years, and done nothing about it. Why now?”
He glanced away. “Things have changed.”
She knew she shouldn’t feel sorry for him, but she couldn’t help it. Despite all of his bravado and tough exterior she could sense he was in pain.
“What sort of—” she tried, but he cut her off by slicing his hand through the air.
“Enough. It’s time for you to go back to your room.”
“What?”
Somehow, she’d thought things might have changed now—that she might be allowed free access to the rest of the house, and wouldn’t be locked up any longer. How stupid of her. She was still a prisoner here. Clearly the connection she’d believed she experienced with him had all been in her head.
At the thought of going back into the room, the walls of the clinic suddenly started to close in. Her mind swam, her heart beating in a strange flutter. A wave of cold ran through her body, swiftly followed by a rush of heat. Her palms grew clammy and she began to shake.
“Flower?”
She detected the concern in his voice, but he sounded distant. Her perception of where everything was in the room felt wrong. Everything seemed skewed, and even the floor began to tilt. Her breath grew shallow, so she couldn’t catch it, her heart racing. She reached out to either side to try to grab hold of something to stay upright, but her fingers only clutched at air. But then something took hold of her, and grounded her again.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
His deep voice broke through her reverie.
“Look at me, Flower. Look at me.”
She lifted her gaze and focused on the deep, molten brown pools of his eyes. In that moment, nothing else existed. Simply the connection between them, like invisible pathways that connected their souls.
Slowly, the room began to right itself again.
Lily blinked. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure—”
He gave his head a slight shake and dropped his hands. Only in that moment did she realize he’d been holding the tops of her upper arms. She could feel the imprint of his touch still pressing into her skin.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I understand. I felt the same way, too, when …”
“When what?”
But he didn’t answer and he wouldn’t look her in the eye again. The moment, when it had felt as though no one else in the world existed, had vanished.
“It doesn’t matter. You’re going to go back to your room now, Flower. But if you behave, I’ll make sure you get to leave the room later today. If you show me I can trust you—without any stupid actions—I’ll repay you for that trust. Is that understood?”
Biting back tears, she nodded.
“All right, then.” He raised his voice. “Tudor? She’s ready to go back.”
The door opened and the older man walked in. His gaze flitted between them both, and she realized he must have heard every word and sound they’d made.
She turned back to Monster. “Please,” she begged him. “I don’t want to go back. I can’t stand to be locked up there any longer.”
His dark eyes locked with hers again. “It won’t be for long, Flower. I’ll come to you soon, I promise.”
She didn’t know why she should trust his promises, but she did.
She allowed Tudor to half guide, half drag her back toward the room.
But the older man seemed to have softened toward her. “Can I get you anything?” he asked. “I’ll speak with the kitchen, if there’s anything you’d like?”
She gave a sad smile. “Coffee,” she said. “I really miss coffee.”
He nodded once. “I’ll see what I can do.” He turned to head out of the room, and then twisted back around to face h
er. “And thank you for today. I understand all of this is hard, but it’s necessary for him.”
And with that, he left the room and locked the door behind him.
Lily dropped onto the side of the bed and put her head in her hands. She shouldn’t care about these people. They were the bad guys. They’d had her kidnapped and kept her as a prisoner. They’d denied her the basic comforts of decent food and hot water, and kept her in isolation until she broke down.
The patter of light feet in the hall outside, and then the door cracked open, and a new, smaller tray was pushed through. Immediately, the room was filled with the heady, mouthwatering scent of freshly ground coffee—black and strong. The aroma was even better than the meal she’d been served earlier that day.
“Oh!” She ran over and dropped to her knees beside the tray. A white porcelain cup filled with strong black coffee. A couple of cubes of brown sugar sat on the saucer. A silver jigger of cream was positioned beside the cup.
She left the cream but added the sugar, swirling it around with a small silver teaspoon. Lifting the delicate cup, she circled both hands around it, absorbing the warmth, and then brought the coffee to her face and took a long sniff.
“Oh, God.”
If someone had told her a few weeks ago that a cup of coffee would have been better than an orgasm, she’d have laughed them out of the room.
Depends on who the orgasm is with, a dangerous little voice in her head whispered.
Shut up, she told it, and took a sip of the coffee.
Though she wanted to make it last, she found herself guzzling the cup, and when it was finished, she picked up the jug of cream. She’d been so long without regular meals that nothing would go to waste around her, and she sipped down the thick cream as well.
The caffeine from the coffee felt like a drug, picking up her heart rate, making her jittery. In her regular life, she’d happily had drunk a couple of large cups a day without noticing much of a difference, but she’d been so long without caffeine that her body went into overdrive at just the one cup. Unable to sit still, she went into the bathroom and stared at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks appeared slimmer than before, her hazel eyes seeming too big in her face. She was definitely more waiflike, and the thought made her think of the girls she’d left in the container at the port. What had become of them now? Were any of them still alive, or were they living lives where they wished they were dead?
Sudden tears threatened for the fates of those girls she’d never even had the chance to speak to, and all those who had suffered similar fates. If she ever got out of here, she swore she’d do something about it. She’d go to the police and tell them about Cigarette Hands. She’d describe to the police every little detail she could think of. If they had to search every port and every container on the East Coast, it would be worth it.
And what about Monster? The little voice in her head piped up. Would you report him, too?
Of course. What choice would she have? He’d worked with those men, even if he’d never actually met them. If he paid them money, he was inadvertently supporting what they did.
No, the voice spoke up again. He knew exactly what they did. He had you kidnapped and transported. Stop trying to make him into a good guy in your mind.
The door opened and Lily jumped, suddenly guilty, as though he could read her thoughts.
Monster stood in the doorway, the unblemished side of his face handsome as hell. He held his broad frame strong and upright, a grey suit jacket squared at his shoulders, a white shirt beneath. The first couple of buttons at the neck were open, exposing the unblemished skin of his throat and giving the outfit a more relaxed look.
“Are you ready for a walk?”
“I’m not a dog.”
He laughed, a deep, throaty sound. “I’m well aware of that, Flower. Now do you want to go out or not?”
She nodded. “Yes, yes, I do.”
He held out his arm to her. Hesitantly, she approached, eying his arm with unease. She didn’t do that—holding hands or linking arms. It just wasn’t who she was now, and Monster wasn’t going to suddenly change that.
He gave a sigh of exasperation. “Very well,” he said. “At least walk by my side.”
She could manage that much. Their bodies were in such close proximity now, allowing her to appreciate the size of him. She wasn’t a petite woman, and yet he dwarfed her. Six feet two, she guessed, if not taller. If it weren’t for the birthmark, she’d have considered him to be classically good looking, and he was always smartly dressed.
Who did he dress for, she wondered, considering he never allowed anyone to see him?
There was no point in her pondering such frivolities. She was about to be taken into fresh air for the first time in weeks, and she needed to concentrate on what lay ahead. Getting outside of the building was important for her soul, but she also needed to stay alert for any opportunities she might take advantage of. She needed to keep her eyes peeled for open doorways, telephones, computers. Anything that might allow her contact with the outside world.
Anything that might help her escape.
Fourteen
As they passed the door of the clinic and walked, side by side, farther down the hallway, Lily’s heart picked up its pace. She’d never been this far away from her room since she’d been brought here.
She was already feeling strung out from the coffee, amazed at the effect when she’d not had any for several weeks, and she clamped down on her spiraling exhilaration, wanting to stay focused.
The long hallway came to a t-section, and Monster turned right. Several other heavy, dark wood doors led off the corridor, and Lily wondered what was behind them. Finally the corridor opened up into a large open entrance hall. A wide, wooden staircase rose up from the center, leading to a small landing where the staircase then divided in two. A second corridor led away to what appeared to be a second wing similar to the one she’d been kept on, and a couple of other rooms led off the main entrance hall.
Most importantly, above the staircase and the landing area, was a window.
Lily gasped.
Bright sunlight poured in through the window, spilling in shafts down the expensive looking, patterned rug on the stairs. The sky beyond was a glorious blue, and she caught glimpses of green where the branches of trees fluttered just beyond. She blinked in the sudden brightness, but didn’t want to close her eyes against it for fear of it being one of the last times she’d see the light.
“Oh, my God,” she breathed.
Monster frowned at her. “What’s wrong?”
“I’d forgotten how beautiful the sunlight is.”
A remorseful smile touched his lips. “Yes, I remember how that was.”
If you remember, she wanted to scream, how could you do the same thing to someone else?
For the moment, she stayed quiet. She didn’t want to give him any reason to turn her around and march her straight back to her prison. At least now she knew how to reach the front door. Quickly, she flitted her gaze around, trying to spot a telephone, but she didn’t see one.
“Through there,” said Monster, nodding to the right, “is the kitchen and eating area. To the left, is the living room, though I tend to use it more as an office than anything else. I don’t have many guests who I care to spend the evenings with. The second wing of the house contains the gym and swimming pool. A large conservatory runs across the back of the house.”
“What about Tudor?” she asked. “Don’t you spend evenings with him?”
She was trying to get an idea of who would be in the house at any one time.
“Tudor has his own living quarters upstairs. He works for me. We don’t socialize together.”
But he cares about you, she almost said, but managed to keep her mouth shut. She was getting good at that.
Except Monster noticed she’d held something back. “Say what you were going to say.”
She gave her head a brief shake. “It’s nothing. I just thought that you and
Tudor seemed like more than business associates.”
“He’s known me my whole life. He worked for my father before he worked for me.”
“I see.”
“No, you don’t. Not really.”
She didn’t know what to say to that, so she remained silent.
“Would you like to go outside now?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He walked over to the big front door. Several locks had been fitted at both the top and bottom, and he methodically began to work on the catches. She stood, fidgeting and glancing around while he did them. One thing she was sure of, she wouldn’t be able to escape from this place without first getting past that door. There might be another way out, but she was sure it would be equally secured.
Finally, the door swung open.
Lily took a breath, stepped forward, and peered out onto a long gravel driveway which swung around the side of the house. The lawns either side of the driveway were green, though she noticed sprinkler systems embedded into the grass. The plants flourishing from the borders were large and tropical—banana leaf palms, bougainvillea with its brightly colored leaves of pink and red, plants with large, dark green leaves and bright orange and red flowers which Lily couldn’t name.
Beyond the manicured grounds, a huge wall, at least ten feet high, surrounded them. The walls were topped with curled barbed wire.
Her heart sank. Her room wasn’t the prison. This entire house was a prison.
“You have five minutes,” said Monster, stepping back, into the house.
She glanced back at him, frowning in confusion. Was he letting her walk out alone? “Aren’t you coming?”
“No. I told you. I don’t let anyone see me.”
“But … who is going to see you?”
“You’d be surprised at the number of other people who work here.”
Hope glimmered inside her. There were other people out here—perhaps even people who would help her.
He must have seen the anticipation in her eyes. “This place is protected by armed men I employ. If they see you doing anything you shouldn’t, they are instructed to apprehend you. Don’t think for one moment they will do anything else, so don’t try anything stupid.”
Defaced: A Dark Romance Novel Page 11