Survival

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Survival Page 4

by J Marie


  Ha! Feisty attitude? Did he not know me at all?

  “As far as your attire, you can wear anything I have provided for you in the closet and dressers, but know that my tastes are very particular when it comes to what I like to see on a woman.”

  That didn’t sound good. He probably had a bunch of slutty dresses and miniskirts waiting for me in those drawers. Fucking pervert.

  “You should also know I’m a firm believer in punctuality. God help you if you are ever late for anything. If I give you a specific time to be somewhere, you'd better not be a second late, or you will learn very quickly how important punctuality is to me.”

  Well, now I was definitely fucked…

  “And for the last rule. Don’t ever lie to me. I will know if you are, and it is not something you want me to catch you doing. I expect nothing but complete honesty. You can also expect the same from me as well. I will never lie to you either. You will come to find I am always a man of my word, Jaden.”

  Oh, I would be honest with him, all right. Brutally fucking honest, but only for a short period of time. I had a damn good poker face, and it would serve me well against this dictator from Hell.

  “Should you ever break any of these rules, you will be punished immediately and severely. Remember, your new goal in life is to please me. So long as you keep me happy, Jaden, I will keep you happy, and you will never want for anything.”

  “Except my freedom,” I dejected, furrowing my brows at him.

  He sighed heavily. “I know it’s a lot,” he said, cupping my face in his hand. “And it may take some getting used to, but eventually, all of this will become second nature, and you will soon find yourself enjoying your time here with me.”

  Was this guy on drugs??? He really thought I was eventually going to enjoy myself? What kind of shit was this guy on? There was no fucking way any of this was happening. If he wanted a challenge, he was certainly going to get it, but he would fail at this one miserably. He just didn’t know it yet.

  “But you already know I'm going to fight you on all of this,” I said turning my head and smirking. “You honestly cannot expect that after all of the fighting I've already done, I'm going to just roll over and play dead.”

  “As a matter of fact … I’m counting on it,” he said darkly, smirking down at me. “And I am going to seriously enjoy breaking you.”

  “Isn’t that what you said last time?” I asked, challenging him with a smirk on my lips.

  “Last time you weren’t mine. Things have obviously changed … including my methods of persuasion,” he said with a dark promise in his eyes. I remained unfazed.

  “Well … good luck,” I said straight to his face. A low chuckle vibrated from his throat.

  “I don't think I'm the one who will need it. You will be trained to my liking whether you want to or not.” His gaze bared down on me, threatening me with his blazing ocean blue eyes. “Now,” he continued. “Do you understand the rules?”

  “Yes.” A dark look came over his face. “Sir,” I corrected.

  “See? You’re learning already. Now, come on,” he said enthusiastically, tugging me along. “Let me show you your closet.”

  He opened the door, and I thought we had actually stepped into another bedroom. It was a huge walk-in closet with a long marble island in the center of the room, two cream leather ottomans on either side of the room, and another leather couch to match by the window. Hanging from the racks were probably a hundred dresses, all in different lengths, colors, and patterns. Most of them were different shades of pink, and my nose instantly crinkled in disgust.

  I let my hand feel the fabrics as I walked along, noticing how soft and delicate they all were. But why the fuck was there so much pink? I couldn't hide my irritation as I continued my observation. Turning around, I found him leaning against the doorframe; he took up most of the space with his size as he kept his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Something wrong?” he asked almost amused.

  Yeah, you’re not bleeding out all over the floor when I mentally stabbed you in the throat three seconds ago.

  I thought about the words I was about to use, but he was the one who insisted on complete honesty.

  “Yeah, just who the fuck were you shopping for? Barbie?”

  He threw his head back and let out a genuine laugh, the soft deep roll of his laughter vibrating through my skin. “Not a fan of pink?” he asked with a bright white smile.

  “Not really,” I replied, eyeing the clothing. “I’m not a very colorful person to begin with. I’m more of a jeans, concert t-shirt, and Converse kind of girl.”

  “Not anymore,” he replied seriously. “You will not find any of those things here while you’re in my possession.”

  My skin nearly crawled off my bones as he spoke that last part. The thought of actually being considered a possession or insinuating that I belonged to someone in any way was seriously enough to make me throw my fist through the wall. I was a fucking person, for God’s sake; not a goddamn object to be owned.

  After a few seconds, I suddenly realized something. “Wait … no jeans?”

  “No pants, no shorts, no leggings.” He shook his head.

  “Why?” I asked a little harsher than I had meant to. No pants? The fuck kind of shit was this?

  He exhaled an annoyed sigh. “It’s your first day here, so I’ll let some of your misbehavior slide but know that you are testing me,” he said as he narrowed his eyes at me.

  I felt myself shiver with his silent warning. I really hated when he looked at me like that. I raised my hands up in surrender and took a step back. I wasn’t sure if my body was ready for the “hurricane” he declared he had brewing inside.

  “I actually enjoy the femininity of a woman, and I find that pants contradict that image. Plus, they’re too much of a hassle when taking them off. I prefer you to be easily accessible.” He winked.

  I rolled my eyes in annoyance. He could easily access my fist to his face if he preferred that.

  “Watch it, little girl,” he warned. “I don’t take kindly to sarcasm, and you’ve been pushing it as it is.”

  “Just what am I supposed to wear when it gets cold outside or when I want to work out? I don't see any sweaters or cardigans, and I can’t work out in a dress.”

  This question wasn’t so much about the clothes as it was for the revelation of where the hell I was and how long I going to be here.

  “It doesn’t frequently get cold here, and should you ever become chilly, I’m often told I’m a walking furnace,” he said, spreading his arms out and smiling so wide I was sure his cheeks hurt. Like I’d ever come to him for warmth even if it was the last source on Earth. “And there are some skorts in the dressers you can wear for your workouts.”

  Skorts? What the fuck was this, Catholic school gym class?

  “Now, if you can hold off on some of your questions, I have some business to attend to. Why don't you take a shower, get cleaned up and dressed, and meet me downstairs for dinner in two hours? That should give you plenty of time to get ready.”

  I nodded, almost excited at the promise of a real shower for the first time in days.

  “Do not be late,” he cautioned.

  “I won’t.”

  With that, he turned from the doorway and headed out, shutting my bedroom door behind him and leaving me to my new beautiful prison cell.

  Chapter Four

  Introductions

  The second I heard the door to my bedroom close, I collapsed on the floor. For the first time in days, I was finally alone. I sat against the wall and pulled my knees to my chest, clutching my legs tightly as though they would fly away if I didn’t. I felt the shakes coming on as the panic I had buried deep under my rationality finally clawed its way back up. I lost my breath in the wake of the aftermath of what I had been holding back for so long, and all it took was a singular moment of clarity to come along and shatter me.

  I had been sold.

  Me—a human being ca
pable of love, compassion, and kindness had been sold like a prized dog breed. What was worse was that a man who was capable of none of the above had been the one to purchase me. And it terrified me. I now officially belonged to someone, and I didn’t even know his name.

  I glanced up from my dirty and dry knees to find a glimmer of my reflection in the full-length mirror across the room. I didn’t know if I had the guts to look at myself and what I had become, but I decided I wanted to remember every horrible thing this man did to me so when the day finally came that I brought him to his knees, I would remember exactly why.

  Not having the strength to stand, I crawled my shaky body over to the mirror, the sight of my reflection becoming worse and worse with every move. When it was clear and unmistakable, I nearly broke down all over again. It took everything I had to look and face the ghost of the girl who peered at me from the mirror. There were so many bruises; I thought I looked like a damn Dalmatian. They were everywhere. My face, my throat, my hands and knuckles, my arms and legs, but the most prominent was the long shoe-shaped one that stretched across my entire chest. It was healing, but far too slowly for my liking.

  I had lost a lot of muscle tone since my time in that cage, and I thought I looked far too skinny and sickly. Purple bags hung under my eyes from stress and lack of sleep, and my skin was pasty as fuck and paler than usual. My hair was a tangled mess and the red “dress” I had been given was already ripped at the side. How did this guy even find me attractive? I looked and felt like total shit.

  I hated looking like this; it was the image of weakness and vulnerability. I preferred to look strong and healthy, and I was definitely lacking, but I vowed I would return to my superior physical state and then some as soon as I was able.

  The new diamond studded silver rings that adorned my wrists and ankles glistened under the lighting of the room, and I became instantly angered by their presence on my body. They were honestly beautiful; like jewelry, if I didn’t know any better. I fiddled with them for a second before realizing no matter how much I wanted them off, they would still remain. But what hurt my pride the most was the collar resting around my neck. The true sign I really was a prisoner. But it would not be for long. This was only temporary.

  Fighting the strain of my body, I stood and slowly padded over to my new bathroom, completely unimpressed with the lush beauty of the all-white marble and bright natural light. What really caught my attention was the giant Jacuzzi tub nestled in front of a large bay window. It held a perfect view of the ocean at the back of the house, the shore beckoning me to swim away with the tide. I stared out the window and took in as much of the scenery as I could. Though the scene was picture perfect, I hoped to God I wasn’t on some estranged island.

  I walked away from the window, noting I would have to take advantage of that tub another time. I headed to the large shower in the corner, which sported three showerheads and even a small seating area. I turned the shower on and continued to explore the bathroom as I waited for the water to heat up. I wanted it scalding.

  Looking in the drawers and cabinets, I discovered thousands of dollars’ worth of designer makeup, hair products, and styling tools. It was a girl's ultimate fantasy. Luckily for him, I actually knew how to use all of this. My mother had been a cosmetologist all her life, and I didn't escape my childhood without knowing a few tricks on how to make myself look pretty. I just never indulged in it much.

  Once the steam started to fill the air, I turned and jumped into the shower letting the hot jets spray all over my still damaged skin. It felt amazing, and for a long time, I just stood under the spray and let the water wash away all my anguish

  As my body began to relax and finally find comfort, I felt the tremors return. My body trembled and shook uncontrollably, and I knew what was coming, what needed to happen. If I wanted my body to be strong, I would have to expel my weakness. I needed to purge every last drop of my affliction in order to conquer my nightmare and I didn’t resist any longer as I fully unleashed the hell in my aching, bleeding heart.

  I violently released all the pain and grief I had been holding in and screamed and cried the hardest I ever had in my entire life, slamming my fists down on the wet tile until they throbbed. My tears fell hard and heavy as I eventually curled into a ball on the floor of the shower and cradled myself under the spray. I could have sworn that even though the shower was scalding, its heat had nothing on the liquid fire that flowed from my eyes. I wept with everything I had as I cried for the loss of my family, the loss of the love of my life, for the loss of Kayla and the other girls, and for the loss of myself.

  I had worked so hard to get to where I was, and now, it had all been snatched away from me like some cruel joke. I had dreams and goals, but they’d been replaced with the demand to please another who thought he owned me. I wanted so badly to go home, to wake up in Jason's embrace and find that all of this was just a twisted nightmare. God, I missed him so much, and it killed me not knowing how long it would be before I felt his arms around me again.

  But I vowed I would get back to him. Come hell or high water, I would escape this place and exact my revenge on this fuck who thought he could rule me. I would somehow have to fool him into thinking that he did, let him believe me brainwashed and content. I would play the part perfectly. I, of course, would have to keep up my fight, at first, let him think he really was breaking me down to his liking, and play his perfect little submissive pet. Then, when I finally had his complete trust, I would strike. And I would strike hard and without mercy. I was going to make this man actually care about me until he finally fell in love, assuming he was capable of love … and then turn his world upside down. And in turn, I would make him think I was in love with him, too. I’d have him so tightly wrapped around my finger, he wouldn’t be able to feel himself slowly choking to death.

  And fuck his empire. I’ll take that shit down, too.

  Once I felt I had forced out every last tear my body had banked, I pushed myself from the floor and finished cleaning not only my body but also my soul. After washing and pruning the shit out of my skin, I emerged from the shower a brand new person.

  I grabbed the towels I had placed on the counter and wrapped my hair and body. Looking at myself in the mirror, not only did I look a hell of a lot better, but I also felt it. I still had scrapes and slight bruising here and there, but nothing I couldn't fix with my makeup skills.

  Toweling my hair dry, I put in some leave-in conditioner and let the damp strands air dry while I applied my makeup. I went for a soft smoky look that brought out the hazel in my eyes. Thankfully, I was able to conceal some of the redness and bruising from my lovely owner’s handling of me. I even managed to cover the ones on my arms and legs, but the one on my chest was a little harder to conceal. By the time I was done, it had appeared as if it was simply fading. I hoped it would be gone in the next few days.

  I then gave my hair a perfect blow out, and it felt so good to have my tresses finally brushed and styled, my mid-length red-layered locks falling beautifully down my back. I was beginning to feel human again, but I knew once I went down to dinner, I would magically turn back into the object I knew I was.

  Heading into the walk-in closet, I managed to find a soft navy blue ombré high-low dress that, of course, fit me perfectly. How did he even know my size? I also found a matching white lace bra and thong set in the drawers, thongs apparently being the only source of underwear he allowed me. Studying my shoe selection resting on the shelves next to the clothes, I eyed the vast number of stilettos, pumps, wedges, and boots that dominated the minority of sandals and ballet flats.

  Surprisingly, there was a single pair of black and hot pink Nike running shoes on the bottom shelf. I almost went for them but figured he wouldn’t appreciate my sense of humor. I thought about the stilettos and enjoyed the idea of gaining a few inches and possibly stabbing him with the heel, but it was too difficult to fight in heels; whatever inches I gained wouldn't make a bit of a difference anyway. The f
ucker would still tower over me.

  I decided on a pair of plain black flats and slipped them on my feet. Another perfect fit. He had some speedy shoppers. I figured it had probably been close to two hours, and deciding it was much better to be early than late, I walked out the door and headed downstairs.

  As I took my sweet-ass time walking down the hallway and taking in what was supposedly my new home, I scanned every square foot in front of me, searching for any flaw I could find.

  Various pictures of black and white adorned the walls, and the railings and sidings all appeared well kept and clean. Making my way to the stairs, I took them slowly, each step on the dark wooden stairs not making a single sound under my weight. I took note, as that would come in handy with my later attempts of coming and going unnoticed. I would definitely be testing my ninja skills here.

  But as I looked at the walls and ceilings, I noticed little black bulb-like objects stationed in the corners. Fuck, he had cameras everywhere. I thought I had even noticed a few in my room. I suppose that was to be expected.

  Descending the stairs, I looked over the portraits hanging on the wall—family ancestors, no doubt. This sadistic fuck may actually be a family man. But then I saw him, only it wasn’t; he was young in this portrait, maybe eight or nine years old. I recognized the hard features of his face immediately as he stood next to an older man with dark brown hair and a full beard. A frail, beautiful woman with long black hair sat in a chair in front of them while an even younger child, maybe four or five, stood beside her as she held a toddler in her lap; another boy maybe one or two years old. They looked like the perfect family.

  As I looked them over, I wondered what kind of mother raised a monster like the one dwelling in this house. Where was she? Where was his father? Was he the true responsible party for all this? And what about the younger brothers? What were they like? Questions spun in my head as I continued my way down the stairs, questions I wanted answers to.

 

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