by Leah Holt
If you only knew, Imperial. . . You wouldn't look at me that way.
“You're a liar, Machi.” She whispered into my ear, allowing her lips to touch my skin. “Whatever I feel, whatever you think you saw in me—” Her fingers found my shoulders, clawing in deep. “Is what I wanted you to see. What's really inside is mine and mine alone. You get nothing.” Her teeth found my lobe and bit down hard, piercing the flesh.
Growling in pain, I jerked my body free, letting her fall back to the mattress. Snatching her wrists, I forced them above her head and pinned her in place.
She didn't scream or yell, she didn't cry or try to break free. She laid there, never tensing up, never swallowing in fear.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you like pain? Is that it?” Baring my teeth, I lowered my face to hers. “Do it again, go on, fucking try to bite me.” Holding her down, her hardened nipples brushed against my chest as she arched her back.
My dick thickened the longer I touched her, it pulsed and throbbed, begging to be deep inside. It took every last inch of strength to not tear her panties off and force my cock to break her open.
No! Not like this, not this way.
Imperial didn't speak, she kept her eyes locked on mine, letting them float under hooded lids. I should have been angry and enraged, I should have coiled my fingers around her neck and choked her until she turned blue just to prove that I was serious.
But that wasn't what I felt. My heart clamored inside my chest, bursting with raw desire. My muscles surged, wanting to touch her more, wanting to feel every dip and curve of her body.
My lips tingled, itching to feel her crazed heat and taste her brackish muscles as sweat beaded up on her skin when I split her thighs apart with my hips.
Grunting in frustration, I snapped my head up and let her go, taking a giant step away from the bed.
“Why did you bite me? Can't you just listen and play nice?”
Wiping her lips, she smeared a small amount of blood off her mouth and down her chin. A smile spread across her face, one that was devilish, one that made me second guess everything I thought I had seen in her eyes. “Why would you ever deserve nice?”
Am I wrong? Is she fucking crazy?
Or is she just throwing a deck of cards at me?
It won't work if she is, she has no fucking clue how deep she's in right now.
“What the fuck!” I yelled, reaching for my ear and feeling the hot blood bubble up where she had dug her teeth in hard. “You're making this more difficult than it needs to be.”
Imperial let out a crazed giggle as her thighs swept over each other. Shrugging her shoulder, she draped her hands over her knees, pulling them into her chest. “I'm not for sale, Machi, I'm damaged, I'm a fucking psycho. Who'd want to bid on a short fuse like me?”
I see your game. . . I can see it now.
“You're wrong, Pixie, you're so goddamn wrong. Do you really think that if you act insane, no one will want to buy you?” Pacing in a circle, I continued to massage my ear. “It doesn't work that way.”
Her eyes darkened, the bright blue clouding over in a thick gray blanket. “The girls I saw last night were so sad, so lost and soulless. That's what they want, isn't it? They want a girl that will listen and be quiet, they want a girl that won't defy them and will just be a fucking puppet. I'm not going to give them what they want, I won't be that, I won't become that person.”
Gripping the sides of my head, I dragged my hands down my face. “Yes, that's exactly what they want.”
“So if—”
Slashing my hand through the air, I cut her off. “So nothing!” Dropping to her side, I braided our fingers together, pulling her up. “It doesn't matter, you can't stop it.” Staring into her eyes, I tugged her hands up to my chest. “If you fight, they'll fight back, if you act crazy, they'll return it ten fold. I told you what to do, I'm practically giving you the answers. All you have to do is listen. Why is that so fucking hard?”
“Maybe I don't like what I'm hearing. I can't deal with being sold to a man who's going to treat me like a fucking pet, who's going to force me to do things I don't want to do. I'm not going to be someone's slave, Machi.”
“Fuck, Imperial!” screaming in her face, I threw her hands down. “ You don't fucking listen! I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. Can't you feel it? Can't you see it? I'm not here because I enjoy this shit, I'm here—” Shutting my mouth, I dropped my head and plucked my lower lip.
“What are you here for then? Tell me! Fucking tell me why!” Sitting up on her knees, she wrapped her arms around her ribs. “Tell me why you do this, why you take girls to be bought like they don't matter.”
Sighing, I raked my fingers through my hair. “Forget it.” Standing quickly, I tugged my phone from my pocket and looked at the time. “If you don't want to listen, then don't. I won't stop you from doing whatever the fuck you're thinking about. But don't look at me like a fucking monster when I'm forced to do what they expect me to. I already told you what to do, I'm not repeating myself anymore. From here on out, whatever happens, it's on you.”
“Don't look at you like a monster? You killed a man! You kidnapped me and brought me here! You sell women to sick fucking assholes! What else could I see?”
I'm not the person you think I am.
My reasons were mine, they stayed with me and weren't for anyone else to know. Monsters can come in many forms. I was a creature, I was black and cold, I was willing to kill to get what I wanted. . .
But for her, for Imperial; she was lucky to have this monster on her side.
“You're only seeing what you think you know.” Stalking to the door, I held the handle in my hand and looked straight into the wood. “Get up, it's time.”
If she refused to listen to the tone in my voice. . .
If she refused to see what I was offering her. . .
Whatever I was forced to do, I wouldn't apologize for it.
Chapter Ten
Imperial
Why?
How many times can you ask yourself that question before you finally just give up? Ten times, twenty times. . .
Was there even a number value that could be placed on it?
There was no point in asking myself why this was happening anymore. It was done, I was there and no amount of wishes could change it.
For some unknown reason, my life had split off the path, it had taken a turn I hadn't seen coming. Fate had a fucked up sense of humor and I couldn't help but think I must have done something horribly wrong to have it drop me there.
No. No more feeling sorry, no more replaying that night over and over. I need to use my head. I need to read the world around me and play it like it wants to play me.
I couldn't continue to fester in questions, all I could do was try to get home. It was time to take the shattered pieces around me and make an exit for myself.
There had to be a way out and I was going to find it.
He's telling you to listen. . . Maybe that is the way.
Maybe he's telling you the truth.
Regardless of what he was saying, I wasn't ready to put my future in his hands. He was still the reason I was here to begin with, I wouldn't forget that.
It didn't matter how much I wanted to believe what he was saying; his hands brought suffering, his hands destroyed everything they touched. . . What good are words after that?
My bare feet patted quietly behind Machi as we walked through a tunnel of sounds. The noises never stopped. I could hear them when I was awake, when I slept, even when I tried to focus on my own thoughts. They were always there, seeping into my ears and erasing the silence.
Machi stopped in front of the elevator, leaning over to push the button. Waiting for the doors to open, I brushed my heels against my calves, rubbing the dirt off the bottom of my feet.
“Stop doing that.” Machi snapped as he tapped his thumb against his thigh, never breaking his gaze on the shiny silver doors.
“Sorry, it's annoying.”
Whispering under my breath, I glanced up quickly then back at the ground.
Shit.
I really can't keep my mouth shut.
Rolling my shoulders forward, I twisted my toe into the floor, hoping he hadn't been paying attention.
It was a stupid wish to make. I watched it rise above my head and get slapped down the moment it hit the ceiling.
The elevator doors slid open and before I could react, he had his hand around the back of my neck, throwing me inside.
Machi glowered down at me, his teeth gritted tight behind parted lips. He didn't talk, he just stared blindly as the doors finally sealed shut behind him.
In one quick swoop, he pitched forward, grabbing my arms and lifting me off my feet, shoving my shoulders into the wall behind me.
The metal bar jabbed me in the center of my back, causing me to yelp in pain. “I'm trying.” The words came out quiet and strained.
I'm sorry! I really am trying, Asshole! Holding in my scream, my chest puffed up, filling with the onslaught of words I refused to let out.
“Even soundless apologies aren't enough. You're going to get us both killed if you don't cut the shit. Do you understand that?” Cocking his head, I attempted to speak, but he silenced me with a hand over my mouth. “Do. Not. Talk. How many times do I have to say it?”
A voice is allowed inside the room, but not outside the walls?
You really don't want me to explain or say one damn word even if we're alone?
I couldn't look away from him. His eyes blazed in anger and destruction as his fingers tightened around my arms and the tips of my toes brushed over the floor.
“We're about to walk into the fucking lions den, so this is my final warning. Do what I say, listen like you've never listened before, and hopefully, I won't have do something you'll regret. You're already treading water after you're little outburst last night, I won't allow that to happen again. I'm not going to let you fuck up everything.”
Sucking in a gulp of air, I bit my bottom lip and nodded. I didn't want to cause more problems for myself, I just wanted to go home. Nodding again, I made my eyes lower to the floor and forced them to stay there.
“Good.” Dropping my arms, I wobbled on my feet. But he didn't let me fall, Machi scooped his arms around my waist and held me up. “There's too much you don't know about this place, you realize that, right?”
Shaking my head yes, I lifted my hands to his forearms and steadied myself. Staring at my fingers, I winced with apprehension. I wasn't sure if he was going to get pissed because I had touched him when he hadn't told me to.
Is touching allowed?
Looking up, I waited for him to reprimand me for the small amount of contact my hands had taken without his permission.
He never did, he continued to talk, disregarding my hands on his arms and my eyes set on his face.
Sucking in a rush of air, his chest pressed mine as his fingers curled into the center of my back, and the thick bulge of his cock teased the warmth between my thighs.
Our eyes connected and a strange feeling settled over me. I felt charged, like he was negative and I was positive. The energy was instant, flowing from skin to skin, vibrant and alive.
Lightly, his tongue dragged over his bottom lip as his gaze held steady. I watched his iris' flicker like the tip of a flame, refusing to break the trance he had over me. The deep green flashed, twinkling with blue flecks and gold highlights.
Despite the anger painting his face, I didn't feel afraid. His touch was too gentle, his lips were too sultry. I had forgotten what we were doing, lost in a moment of delusion and untamed desire.
Is he going to kiss me?
A piece of my brain was hoping he would and I wasn't sure why. How could my body betray me like that? It created lust when it should feel hate, it created need and unwanted tingles when it should have wanted nothing but to be far away from his hands.
His head shook slightly, eyes drawing back in, focusing on the wall behind my head. It was gone, the feeling had dissipated, muzzling my lips and smothering my heart.
“Here's what's going to happen next—we're going to go have breakfast, you're going to sit by my side and keep your eyes off the men at the table. Can you do that?”
Thinning my lips, I nodded yes.
“No matter what they say, no matter how disgusting, how degrading, how downright awful it might be, you never speak, and you never look up.”
Dropping my head into my chest, I nodded again. I broke, I couldn't look at him anymore. Temptation to lean in and feel his lips on mine had crossed from thought to urge.
An invisible tether was tugging on me, causing my body to sway. The muscles in my face twitched, while my lips pushed out and my tongue touched the back of my teeth, ready to tempt him inside.
What is wrong with me?
No. It's not real, the emotions you feel are fake, it's black magic.
It was natural for your mind and body to not want to feel what it should when reality was a nightmare. . . Right?
Dropping to flat feet, I took a step back and let my arms slide off of his.
“Imperial,” he said softly, bringing his finger to my chin and cupping my jaw. “I'm not lying when I tell you this is the way.” The doors opened wide and Machi yanked himself free of my skin, raking his fingers through his hair and looking around anxiously.
There was worry on his face as his head darted back and forth, eyes wide, studying the room. His muscles tensed up and loosened as he realized no one was outside the door. “Alright, let's go.”
Another long hall entombed me like a mouse in a maze. There were less rooms in this hall than upstairs, and to my surprise, none of the same sounds trickled from the doors we passed.
I wanted to embrace the silence, I wanted it to stop the white noise that was set on repeat inside my head.
Curling my toes into the floor, the soft carpet was a surprise to my feet. The area he had taken me to looked nicer, cleaner, brighter. The paint was actually white, the walls were whole, and decorated in paintings of risque dressed women from the twenties.
If I had been there on a tour, I would have seen the images as artistic and beautiful. For all purposes they were, they were amazingly realistic.
The artist had captured the light perfectly in the eyes, leaving you with the feeling that the women were looking out of the canvas and directly at you.
The fringes on the dresses appeared to pop off, threatening to tickle you if you brushed against them. Even the chairs and desks in the background looked smooth, touchable, as if your fingers might slip through like it was an open window.
But seeing them now, seeing them through the eyes of a captive, I wanted to tear them down and break them in half. They didn't represent the vision of a painter or a time when women were coming into their own.
All I could see was the sale of sex.
Machi came to a stop at a set of chrome doors tucked away in the center of the hall. The windows were made of frosted glass, allowing shapes and shadows to form, while still leaving mystery to what was resting behind them.
Lifting his knuckles to the window, he tapped it twice, then snapped his shoulders square and tall. There were no more whispers of what to expect or how to act.
And for a brief second I was sad he hadn't spoken to me. His voice brought a calmness over my body, it eased my nerves and gave me the strength to see beyond the moment.
He had been dangling my freedom with broken words and promises of a future. I just hadn't truly listened to what he was saying. I was going to try now, I was going to put my faith in his protection and assurance of getting me home.
What other option did I have? Deep down, I knew getting out wasn't something I could do on my own. I needed help and he was going to give it to me.
But I couldn't understand why he had taken me if he was going to help me get out. None of that made sense. If he wasn't going to keep me, then why take me at all?
The door peeled open, creaking as it swept
in. A wave of scents exploded over my face, turning the nerves in my stomach from rigid to hunger pains.
The air was drenched in aromas of sweet breads and savory bacon. Citrus swirled over my face on long streams, followed by maple syrup and fresh eggs.
This went way beyond the small portions he had brought me just to keep alive. My belly growled, twisting in hunger that made me delirious. My tongue licked over my lips, my mouth watered instantly. I had suddenly turned into Pavlov's dog, waiting for the bell to signal food was coming my way.
A man welcomed us in and guided us over to a large table that looked like it was dressed up for a business meeting.
Fancy napkins and crystal wine glasses with broad gold strips around the lip sat beside Artisanal porcelain dinnerware. Baskets of fruit were placed around the table, while smaller ones held steaming biscuits and cut french bread.
My eyes kept glancing, they kept shifting and moving as subtly as they could. It was one thing to not use your voice, but to not use your sight. . . That was like asking the sun not to rise or the moon to not work the tides.
Machi straightened his back and grabbed my hand, leading me behind him. I kept my head down, forcing my eyes to stay fixed on the floor. Following the diamond pattern, I watched my toes as they stepped between the tiles, focusing on the tan grout and glossy ceramic.
“Enjoy, Master M.” The usher held out his hand and stepped to the side, allowing Machi to sit.
Master M?
Nodding to the man, Machi took his seat, resting his forearms on the table. I stood for a moment, unsure of where and how I was supposed to sit. I was afraid to look at him for guidance, I didn't want to upset him anymore than I already had.
His words were weighing on me, holding me hostage. There was a level of belief in what he was saying as his eyes bore into me and his voice knifed my ears, stealing my thoughts.
'I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. Can't you see it? Can't you feel it?'
If he's telling me the truth, I need to listen.
Clearing his throat, Machi gripped my hand and tugged me to his side. Pulling on my arm, he guided me down, positioning me on my knees beside him.