Beauty & The Biker: A Dark Fairytale

by Glenna Maynard

  “Personal comforts are a privilege. You have to earn them, princess.”

  “So, my phone?”

  “I have it.” He brushes his thumb along my thigh, stroking. “Prove yourself a worthy pet, and I will reward you,” he tells me as his thumb grows dangerously close to my intimate zone.

  A man has never had his hands on me in this manner before. My breathing hitches, becoming erratic, enjoying the way his touch feels.

  “Be a good pet and I will be a good master.” His touch disappears but I can still feel his warmth tracing over my skin.

  I guess I should have known a man like him thrives on control. This is just a game to him. All of it.

  “I’m not a pet Tristian, I am a person. I expect to be treated like one.”

  He grabs my hair, leaning into my personal space. “You belong to me Isa. I own you. If you expect anything more from me, you will find yourself sadly mistaken.”

  He pulls me from his desk by my hair and drags me down the hallway roughly, cursing incoherently under his breath.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t—please,” I beg.

  He says nothing in return and jerks me in front of him holding my elbows and shoving me down the cold steps to the cellar.

  “I told you if you behave, I’ll be good to you, but you want to run your mouth. Now you can run it down here where no one can hear you.”

  “I’m sorry, I’ll be good Tristian. Please don’t leave me down here. I’m scared of the dark. I suffer horrible panic attacks.” I can’t stop my tears as they stream down my cheeks.

  I have given myself freely to a monster. I don’t know why I thought he was different then what people say. He has a bad reputation for a reason. I need to keep that in mind next time he tries to touch me.

  “I will come for you when I think you are ready to behave. And while you are down here maybe you will remember something important.”

  He shoves me roughly through the iron door I saw the night before. It’s cold, dark, and lonely. He closes the door to my cell and locks it without another word or glance in my direction.

  I curl into myself on the floor and sob, praying I can escape this hell of my own making. I can hear him laughing at me as he walks upstairs.

  What kind of man treats a human being this way? A few stolen touches and I was falling for him and playing right into his hands. He is a beast from hell. The monster you were warned about as child. The kind of vile creature, who thrives on fear, lurking in the shadows of your closet and hiding under your bed. He is the kind of man who will take a man’s daughter and use her against him.

  But what is a woman to do when she is no longer a child and can’t call out for her daddy to make the bad man go away. I’m an adult and the monster now sleeps in the room next to mine, and a seriously messed up part of me wants him sleeping in my bed beside me.

  **

  The faint humming of music can be heard in the distance. Is someone playing a piano? I feel sick and disoriented and as if I have been here before, in this room. But that can’t be possible. I would remember it if I had.

  Finding my breath and my feet, I feel along the wall, hoping to find a way out, but no luck. Just cold stone walls. There isn’t even anywhere to sit. What if I need to throw-up or use the bathroom? Maybe this means he doesn’t intend to keep me here for long. Sinking back down to the floor, I strain to hear the faint melody playing in the distance until I fall asleep.

  Chapter 7

  ISABELLA

  I’m not sure how long I have been down here in this cold, dark, damp cell in Tristian’s dungeon when he comes back for me. I don’t even think a day has passed but I can’t be sure. I slept for a few hours after I passed out from my panic attack. I don’t do well with the dark or tight spaces.

  The iron gate creaks open after he unlocks it. My eyes are tender and sore from crying so hard. My legs are stiff, I am cold, hungry, and in desperate need of the bathroom.

  “I see you have survived,” he notes as I stretch my tired bones.

  “With no help from you.”

  “I can leave you down here. Makes no difference to me, but that just means I have to dock your pay for time missed.”

  “You are kidding me right? You are going to hold it against me because you chose to stick me down here for having an opinion.” I shove past him as he holds the door open for me.

  “Clean yourself up, I’ve cooked you breakfast,” he says following me up the stairs.

  I make my way up slowly feeling exhausted and depressed.

  “Move!” he barks kicking the back of my shin.

  I break my fall with my forearms against the top stair. That smarts. A single tear escapes as I push myself up.

  “Your Grandma Iris was slow but she was old.” He laughs.

  I glare at him before rounding the corner to the stairs that lead up to my room.

  He snorts and goes toward the kitchen.

  I start up the stairs and he calls out, “be in the dining room in twenty. I don’t need to remind you to be punctual.”

  “Yes Sir.” I salute him with my middle finger behind his back.

  I take my time cleaning up and getting dressed. What’s he going to do? Put me back in his dungeon!

  When I get to the dining room Tristian is busy taking a call and holds his finger up signaling for me to wait before taking my seat.

  I glance around the large room. The table takes up most of the space. Such a large table for one man. I count twelve chairs.

  “I’ll be in touch soon,” he says ending the call. “Come sit.” He scoots his chair back, motioning me to sit in his lap.

  Reluctantly, I do as he wishes. He wraps one arm firmly around my waist and picks up his fork with the other. He cuts me a bite from his stack of pancakes and feeds me.

  “Why are you being nice to me?” I ask once I have swallowed and had a drink of orange juice.

  “I told you. If you follow my rules, I will take care of you. I’m not as awful as you think.”

  “I know you aren’t Tristian. The problem is that you don’t.” I know he has good in him.

  His response is shoveling another bite into my mouth before taking a bite for himself. There is something so intimate about the moment we are sharing. Mama always said a man who feeds you from his own plate and gives you more than he takes for himself is a man who will always treasure you and provide for you, because he cares more about your wellbeing than his own.

  I don’t believe this is what she had in mind for me. But oddly, I am enjoying this side to Tristian, if only he was always this way. His thumb brushes up and down my spine with tender affection as he continues to feed me. There are many things I’d like to ask him but I don’t want to ruin the moment. This is one of the rare times when the good in him is shining through.

  We finish our shared breakfast in a comfortable silence and he goes into his library to attend to whatever it is he does while I dust and sweep in some of the spare rooms that never seem to get any use. Most of the furniture is covered in white sheets. It is kind of sad for such a big ol’ home with so much history to go to waste. I wonder what happened to his family? I know he was an only child but surely he has relatives.

  It must have been so lonely growing up here as an only child. My sisters drive me crazy, and we fight, but I couldn’t imagine my life without them. I hope they are taking good care of our father. Thank goodness Elsabeth lives next door to him. She can check in on him daily.

  Checking the clock, it is already past midday. I suppose I should check in with Tristian and see if he needs me to do anything more today.

  I hope he is still in a good mood when I find him.

  After a full sweep of the downstairs I take my search to the second floor. Most of the doors seem to be locked and require a key to enter them. Taking my chances, I twist his doorknob and it opens. Taking a deep breath, I push the door forward. I don’t know what he keeps hidden away in here. I don’t know what he will do for breaking his rule. Just as I am g
etting ready to peek inside, I hear the thundering of his boots coming up the stairs.

  Quickly, I pull his door shut and dart to my door to make the sound seem as if I just came from my room.

  He reaches the top of the stairs and is staring down the hall at me with a glare. OH SHIT! Does he know I was just about to invade his privacy? I stand frozen in place unable to look away from him as he grows closer.

  “Here you are, let’s go get lost for a while. You could use some fresh air and the escape.”

  Okay, so maybe he doesn’t know. Or this could be a trick. I don’t exactly trust him.

  **

  Outside, I wait patiently for Tristian to pull up on his motorcycle.

  When he comes to a stop in front of me he is smiling and it makes me wonder what he has planned.

  He scoots further back on his seat and tells me to secure my long hair. I happened to find a hair tie in the downstairs bathroom. I don't know who it belongs to but I washed it off in the sink and made it mine. I style my hair into a long messy braid but it does the trick.

  Tristian grabs the end of my hair and tucks it into the back of my dress for me. “Don’t want it getting caught in anything,” he explains.

  Minutes later I am oddly surprised that he meant what he said, but I didn’t have this kind of ride in mind. Tristian has my back pressed against his handlebars and my legs straddling his crotch. I am wrapped around him tightly holding on for dear life with my cheek pressed to his.

  We are traveling the road leading away from the mansion at ungodly speeds as the road winds and bends. The trees are nothing but a blur. The tighter I hold on, the faster we go. It’s almost like flying. Tristian makes me feel as if I’ve grown wings. My hair has come loose and is flying all around us.

  “Can you see,” I yell out.

  “Don’t worry, I know this road, I can drive it blindfolded.”

  His words do not make me feel very safe, but I am trusting him not to do anything stupid.

  We come to a full stop at the end of the drive. I don’t think I have ever clenched so many muscles at once. I am sure my body will make me suffer for it later. I peel myself away from Tristian, giving us both room to breathe.

  “Did you enjoy the ride?” He questions, stilling my quaking knees with his large, tattooed hands.

  “Felt like we were flying,” I tell him breathlessly. How does this man make me feel like pure dirt one minute and then the next he makes me feel like we are the only two people on earth?

  “You want wings princess; I’ll give you wings. Get behind me,” he instructs me and I do. He grabs my ankles and places my feet on the back pegs.

  My head is laid against his shoulder. He leans forward gripping the handlebars. “Trust me Isa, I will keep you safe.” Something in the depths of his eyes tells me he means his words. “Hold on while I turn us around.”

  I do as I’m told as he gets us facing the right direction.

  “Hold on to my shoulders and stand up on the pegs, don’t lean, don’t even breathe. Just hold on to me until I say now. Close your eyes, cause you are about to really fly,” he tells me.

  I let go of my fear, closing my eyes and controlling my breathing, while hoping like hell I don’t have a freak-out or full-blown panic attack and cause him to wreck.

  He picks up his speed and once again we are traveling faster than should be safe considering our positions. I can feel his heavy body pressing against my own as the power of the motorcycle rumbles beneath us. But right now I feel as one with him and the motorcycle.

  “Now hold your arms out Isa and fly princess,” he tells me.

  The wind trails through my fingertips as my body vibrates from the ride. It feels amazing.

  I let go and enjoy the ride and the freedom he has granted me in this moment. Nothing matters—sickness, debts, love, life...none of it. We have wings and we are flying.

  When we get back to the mansion, Tristian takes me by the hand and leads me to a gazebo. Deja vu hits me. I get lost in a memory that seems so foreign. I’m here at the mansion but I don’t feel like myself. I can hear myself giggling as I run circles around the gazebo, sprinkling blue rose petals and singing ring around the rosy.

  I am snapped from my haze by Tristian asking me questions.

  He is asking lots of questions about my childhood. It is making me a bit uncomfortable, because I don’t remember a lot about my adolescence, it all seems to be fuzzy. He is pressing hard, questioning why I don’t remember my grandmother. It’s making my head spin.

  “Isa, Iris was living when you were a girl, she lived with your family. Why can’t you remember?”

  “I don’t know. Why is it so important to you Tristian? I just can’t remember.” I shake my head as he peers into my soul, trying to make the pieces fit. “Why don’t you talk about living here in this big ol’ house. It had to be so lonely as an only child.”

  “You don’t understand Isa but one day you will.” He stands abruptly knocking his chair over. Why is so angry with me?

  “What did I do Tristian. Are you mad at me because I can’t remember my grandmother?”

  “Forget it!” he barks, grabbing my arm, and jerking me out of my chair.

  Inside he tells me I am to scrub every inch of the floors and then he just leaves me here all alone. I’m so confused. I keep trying to remember my grandma. I just can’t. I get that he knew her and that means maybe he knew me too, but how can he hold it against me. I was only a child then.

  Chapter 8

  TRISTIAN

  I’ve wanted Isabella since long before I was old enough to know what it meant to want someone—to love them. She is so innocent and has no idea how sexy and appealing I find her. So fucking pure, too good for a man like me. But I will have her. She was supposed to be mine, she promised me and she lied.

  I know everything about her. I know her habits. I know the things she likes. I know her smell. My heart memorized all these things a long time ago. I will strip her down and ruin her for any other man. She has always belonged to me. She doesn’t remember but she will. When I want her to. When I allow her to do so.

  It’s hard to be so unfeeling towards her but I’ve had many years without her, watching from the shadows as she went on with her life as if I never existed. Every day she is with me she erases some of the shadows she left behind that darken my heart, leaving me torn between loving her and hating her. She CAN’T remember and I CAN’T forget.

  I had to get away, I lost control with her yesterday when I took her out on my bike. She was beautiful, like a fucking angel as she let go and soared with me. We were able to just be one with the wind. I could have had her on my bike. I could have bent her over the frame and took her every which way, she was more than willing.

  When she started asking about my parents and my childhood though, I snapped. How could she ask me, when she should already know.

  She was the one who held my hand when life let me down. She was the light in the dark. She was the girl who baked me heart-shaped cookies.

  She is the girl I became the man I am today for. I tattooed my body to make her see ME, to make her remember ME. I killed my father to protect her from him and to bring her justice for what HE did to her—what WE did to her. Her not remembering all that we shared kills me. I had to get away from her. I try so hard to make her see me, to remember me, but she is so blind.

  I locked her in the dungeon hoping she would remember the time she got lost and locked herself in down there. She had the whole house searching for her. She was so scared. I knew she hated it down there at first, but it used to be her safe place as a child, and yet I locked her down there anyway when she said she was scared, wishing she could remember.

  I love her and I hate her. I own a fucking castle and I can’t escape her. Every stone seems to carry a memory of what was lost to me and what I have gained since she came back into my life.

  I gave her a chore to do and I took off. I had to clear my head. I ended up here, at the club, crashing o
n the couch in my office.

  “What’s with your ‘new’ housekeeper? I thought you always paid a few of the girls from the club to clean,” Rain questions, pressing me for answers that are none of her fucking business.

  “The fuck is it to ya? I owe her old man a favor,” I lie knowing I’ve had this planned. I made sure Hector Perez would never be able to pay his debt to me. I knew if I played my cards right, an opportunity would present itself for me to get Isa alone and she wouldn’t be able to fight the truth. I just didn’t count on my plan coming together so quickly, but once she offered herself so freely the opportunity was there, and she was mine again.

  That night in the hospital parking lot, I wanted her, I could have had her then, but if she is going to be with me, it will be forever, not for one night, because she feels she has no other choice. When I take her body, it will be because I already have her heart. I had it once, I felt as if I held it in my hands, to keep safe and then everything changed.

  I left my heart with her when I went away, and she sent hers away with me, or so I had thought.

  But she broke mine and I’ve wanted her to pay for it every day since. This time I will be the one to break hers, if I can help it.

  “Gee, touchy aren’t we. Having your period or something,” Rain taunts. She throws a pretzel at me and laughs.

  “Fuck off or I will send the girls home tomorrow night and shove your ass on the stage.”

  Rain used to dance for me, but I found she was better at managing my strip joint than performing. She keeps the girls in line. I only have one rule for her that she doesn’t shit where she eats. Meaning no fucking any of the girls who dance for me. Rain loves pussy and when I first hired her, she got on a power trip with a few of the girls, and I had to put her in her place. She hasn’t crossed me since.

  “No one wants to see my ass jiggling up there. You sleeping here again tonight?”

  “More than likely, just need to get my head straight before I go home.”