Leave Her in Pieces

by August Red

  Why do you have to be so damn hot?

  There is nothing she can do as her heart starts to pound. Harder. Faster. Remembering his gunshot wound, her eyes dart to his side. She can’t help but lower her gaze to the sexy V-lines that trail to his...

  He follows her gaze. "Looking for… something?” Her stare immediately jumps to his face, her skin blazing hot. He peruses her body, and only then, remembers she’s only wearing her white chemise. His eyes settle on her face, and his dimples set in deeper. “…In the middle of the night?"

  "Oh... I, uh…” Clearing her throat, she makes an awkward, strained sound. “…didn’t know you were in here. I couldn’t..."

  She trails off, already beginning to retreat back into the hall, but stops as he says, "Sleep?"

  She swallows the lump in her throat as she nods. "Actually, I... was just...” She surveys the table. It’s empty. She frowns. “…looking for my book... I had it earlier and I thought I left it in here... Never mind."

  His eyes dance with amusement, and he purses his lips before he holds a book up from his lap. "This book?"

  "Um... yeah,” she says, wondering why it’s opened in his hands. “That's the one."

  Judas glances down at the book. "Stop lying, Belle. We both know what this is about. Get lonely at night, huh?" His eyes meet hers, and they’re full of heat as they rake over her form. "Didn’t take you long to surrender. I’m almost disappointed."

  Belle feels her ears grow hot as she makes a noble effort to throw him off the subject, "I... I’m not lying. I wanted to study."

  Judas tilts his head to the side as his eyes continue to bore into hers. "You want my company. Admit it."

  Belle breaks their eye contact, finding it easier to stare into the fire as she mumbles, "I’d rather go mad talking to myself even if you were the last person on Earth.”

  Judas closes the book. "Yeah... sure." He holds the book out, daring her to come closer and take it from him.

  It doesn’t escape her attention that his eyes drop to roam over her body again as she braves a few steps closer to the fire. To him. She reaches out to take her book, but he suddenly pulls it out of her reach.

  "Since we both can’t sleep... why don’t we play a game?"

  "A game?” she mutters. “With you?" He nods, his eyes still fixed on her face as his lips twist into that devious smirk she knows all too well. He’s challenging her; daring her to try and match wits with him.

  She takes the bait.

  "What sort of game?" she asks, narrowing her eyes.

  The grin only widens as he drawls, "You’re so suspicious of me, Belle. Why don’t you just have some fun, for once?"

  Well... forgive me for my reluctance,” she replies, raising her chin, “but I've been played by you before. Not interested."

  "Why’re you so scared?"

  "Because,” she scoffs, “you’re up to something, and you’ll probably cheat. And I probably won’t like the consequences."

  His eyes hold hers as he says, "Oh, really?"

  "Yes, really. Just give me my book, Judas. So I can go."

  Her irritation only seems to encourage him. "I’ve never gone back on my word."

  She looks back at the fire and admits, "No... but...” Her growing attraction toward him, only makes her more on edge. She chances a glance at him. “Look, with you calling the shots, something bad will happen."

  "What do you mean?" he asks, feigning innocence.

  She rolls her eyes, not at all falling for his act. "Oh please,” she says, “you know exactly what I'm getting at."

  He leans back in his chair, putting one leg across the other. "You’ve never been in danger here. In fact, you’re helluva lot safer here than anywhere else right now."

  She crosses her arms. "You manipulated me into staying here by taking my family as hostages."

  His playful demeanor switches fast to a serious one. "Are you that miserable here?"

  Belle is miserable here. Yet... she can’t deny how excited she feels when she explores and discovers a new room to fall in love with. She can’t deny that elation of spending her time in a mansion beyond her wildest dreams. And the peace and quiet is almost a blessing. But she misses her family so much. Too much. She misses the smell of her baby brother and his cute little giggles first thing in the morning.

  She looks Judas right in the eye. "At times... yes."

  He runs his hand through his wild hair.

  God, he looks every inch like an Adonis...

  He contemplates her for a moment before he speaks up, "It doesn't have to be that way."

  She raises her brow. "Oh? Then why is it that way?" she grits out.

  "I'll tell you why,” he says, “it’s because of you."

  "Because of me?” she seethes. “It's somehow my fault that that you’ve taken my family away from me. My fault you’ve locked me up and my fault you can't help making me miserable.”

  Judas laughs and the sound is so rich, it makes her chest clench. "You’re damn-well better at making yourself miserable than I am."

  Belle feels her blood ice over, and her fists clench at the sound of his laughter. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  He smiles as if he’s cognizant to some valuable piece of confidential information. "Okay, Belle, think about it. Have I hurt you since we made our little deal?"

  She glares at him. "No... No you haven’t.”

  "There. You see. Self-imposed misery."

  "Self-imposed? How the hell is it self-imposed?” she asks, shocked. “Unless I'm delusional, it’s you who took me hostage!” she rasps. “Hostage, Judas! That isn’t what sane people do."

  The room is silent for awhile, then his eyes narrow. "Maybe so, but you’re the one who decided the deal had to be hard."

  "What the hell are you talking about?"

  Judas folds his hands. "Be honest. You like being here. In this big mansion. All alone. Just you and me. Together." It’s like he can’t resist pushing her.

  Belle shakes her head. "Of course I don’t,” she spits out. “God, you’re too much.” She draws in a shaky breath. “We’re done with this conversation. Think what you want. My misery may be somewhat self-induced but you don't make it easy.” The hurt and rage simmering within her, sears her very blood. “Actually, Judas, you’ve made a career out of messing up my life."

  His eyes grow a little hard. "I already told you it doesn't have to be that way,” he says. “I can make this time for you... enjoyable... If you let me."

  God, that look on his face makes her want to smack him. Very hard. She barely contains herself as she grits out, "Why do you always have to antagonize me?" The fact that he remains so calm, while she gets so riled up, only makes her despise him more.

  "I told you why,” he says, his tone laced with dominance. “It’s because of you."

  Belle is aware that she’s starting to raise her voice, but, with that arrogant look on his face, she doesn’t give a damn. "Me? How?"

  He looks rather amused by her loss of control. "You... provoke me."

  Belle knows she’s walking on a tightrope, and it will be a very bad idea to let her emotions get any further out of control. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  He stands up and begins to circle her, like he’d done before in the basement, as if she’s some helpless piece of prey. His voice is cool and calculated as he replies, "I told you before—this doesn’t have to be hard. I can be... fun... But you need to stop being so aggressive and stubborn."

  She turns, keeping her eyes trained on him, never once trusting her back to him. "Fun? You?"

  He moves in close. "Yeah,” he says, in a gravelly tone. “All I'm asking is to play a game. To pass some time. But if you don’t want to..."

  His movements are making her dizzy, and she doesn’t like the idea of him standing so close. She shuts her eyes and shakes her head. "Stop it,” she hisses, “you’re making me dizzy.” Laughing, Judas moves away to the other end of the room and opens up a cupboard. “What sort of gam
e?" she asks.

  Bringing out the most stunning crystal-piece chessboard she’s ever laid her eyes on, he lays it on the middle table.

  Interesting...

  She’s spent most of her teen life alone. Passing time by playing the computer at chess had been a weekly occurrence. This may be her chance to win-one-over on him.

  Belle eyes the board. "Chess?"

  He nods. "Yeah. A simple game of strategy. You played much?"

  “Not really…” she lies. "So we just play for fun right? No stakes?" He sighs as he sits back down.

  Here it comes...

  "Where’s the fun in that?"

  Of course.

  "With you, I really should know better,” she says. “Fine, what are the stakes?"

  His eyes roam her body. "The stakes are... negotiable." Belle swallows. Why does that sound like an invitation?

  She takes a moment to be sure her voice won’t waver before she asks, "All right. But what do I get if I win?"

  When his eyes meet hers, they’re full of heat and amusement. "What do you want from me?"

  Heat creeps over her cheeks. How does he make everything so suggestive? Lord have mercy, it’s so distracting, the way he looks, lounging there, almost shirtless... Then there’s that damn predatory smirk on his face, and the way the fire literally dances in his eyes. She tries to resist the barrage of naughty thoughts, but damn him... he makes her think it.

  She struggles to keep her expression neutral as her mind screams, ‘I want you to kiss me again, you arrogant asshole!’ But there’s no way in Hell she’s about to voice that guilty pleasure.

  There is only one thing he can give her.

  Her freedom.

  "Let me leave,” she murmurs. “Take me to my family." The thought of holding Toby in her arms again is too much, and her heart sinks into her stomach.

  "You really want to go? If you win?" She nods, unable to say anything. "Those are high stakes, so I'll only agree...” He pauses, and for a heartbeat, hope spikes through her. But it dies instantly. “…if you stay here with me for the rest of your life."

  It was too good to be true. "No chance," she snaps, looking away, determined to cover the hurt in her eyes.

  "Why? Afraid you’ll lose?"

  She shakes her head and counters, "No. No-one in their right mind would agree to that. I'm not that crazy."

  "What then?"

  She ignores his question, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. "Why would you want me to stay with you for the rest of my life, anyway?"

  Her eyes jump back to his. He remains silent for a moment, but falls back-on-track the second she feels the thick silence grow between them. "Does it matter?" He shrugs, as if bored.

  "It might. Why?" she asks, her voice more confident.

  He turns up the collars of his shirt before he leans forward and answers, "Tell you what... if the slim chance you win, I might tell you." He winks.

  "You’re really annoying. You do know that, don't you?" He just smiles as she shakes her head and adds, "We need terms we can both agree on... There must be something...”

  Breaking the deal early is beyond question. But, there is something that can help her relieve the tension that is suffocating her; something of her old life. For the first time, in a long time, Belle smiles. “I know. If I win, you let me run outside. Every night—and longer than a minute. A few hours at least."

  Judas considers her request. "Not at night. Day only."

  “Fine,” she mumbles. "So... what do you want from me?" She catches the flare in his eyes and tries to stifle the hot chills invading her body.

  He regards her will cool consideration. "Not decided yet."

  "Well, I'm not playing unless I know what it will be."

  His lips curl slightly. "Still don't trust me?"

  She looks him over. "No. Not one bit."

  Looking down at the board, he twirls the black queen in his hands. "What’re you so afraid of? You already have to stay here and do what I want.” His eyes suddenly flick upward. “How’s one more... favor, any different?"

  She tilts her head to the side. "Maybe it's not. But then again, maybe it is. Either way I'm sure I'll regret agreeing to something so vague."

  "How do you know that?" he replies, a little defensively, putting the queen back down on the board.

  She shrugs. "I have to at least know the nature of it... before I agree to play."

  "Why?"

  God, it’s like dealing with a child!

  Her eyes narrow, settling on his face. "I don't like your evasiveness, that's why. You might ask anything of me. Something... inappropriate."

  "Inappropriate? Like what?" he asks, his amusement evident in his dimple crease.

  She looks away, her cheeks prickling; the heat in his gaze unnerves her. "I can think of plenty," she admits.

  "Really? Tell me more.” His voice is silky, but still retains that cool arrogance. “And be detailed."

  Belle keeps her eyes on the fire as she clenches her jaw. "For starters... anything that involves being dragged or tricked into your bed."

  She may not be looking at him, but she can sense his smirk as he replies, "You still worried I’m going take your innocence?"

  Something about the way he said it, the tone of confidence perhaps, strikes her, and it’s just enough to let the familiar anger flare within her. Her gaze darts to him, and she takes a strong step forward in his direction. "You can’t take it,” she snaps. “Remember, Judas? I’ve already lost my virginity. I just don’t like being used."

  For one fleeting moment, something unrecognizable flickers in his eyes. Almost like compassion—anger even. She can’t be sure because it’s replaced with that damn indifferent mask he always wears. "Why would I want to use you when I can have any woman I want?" he smirks.

  She regains control of her temper, and evenly replies, "I don’t know. But I'm not about to take that risk."

  His eyes take the liberty of wandering over her body again, baiting her just a little more. "Belle,” he says, his voice soft, dangerously seductive, “if I wanted to fuck you, I’d have done it by now. I told you, it’s you who’s gonna be coming to me. And from the way you’ve been looking at me, it’s gonna be soon.”

  Something powerful sparks in his eyes then, and it hits her like a thousand bolts at once. She shivers, knowing her feelings for him, knowing he may be right. But she’s quick to regain her nerve. "I haven't found myself desperate enough. But if I ever get there, I’ll let you know.”

  A slither of dread creeps into her. He’s Judas Bane. He’s relentless. He’s a killer. And he’s said it himself that he always gets what he wants.

  “You...” Her throat feels dry. She clears her throat before continuing, “…just... don't strike me as someone with a lot of patience…"

  "Women line up for me. Literally. I don’t need you, Belle. I never will," he says, as cold as ice.

  Leaning against the armchair opposite him, Belle stares into the fire, trying to not let her voice waver as her heart clenches. It hurts. His words hurt more than she can bear. She hates that it hurts so much. She hates how badly she needs him to want her—despite everything he’s done to her. Even though it will be her death, she just can’t seem to let go of the hero from her past.

  Belle raises her eyes to meet his. Dragging in a fortifying breath, she says, “Judas, I'm not about to even pretend that I have the first clue about what goes on in that head of yours. All I know is one thing. I don't know what to make of any of this, and the smartest thing I can do, for the time being, is to avoid getting myself into any situation that can make my time here any more unpleasant than it already is."

  "How do you know you won’t like it?” he asks, his voice smooth. “You not curious why women beg me? How I make them feel...? How I can make you feel?”

  She is curious.

  Of course she damn-well is!

  And the only thing she can feel, right now, is his toe-curling voice sweeping tremors in between her legs.


  But she’ll be damned if she ever lets him know that.

  God, the nerve to think you can break me…

  "How did we even end up talking about this?” she mutters, allowing her exasperation to swamp her lust. “I think you've taken this conversation far enough, so you can stop wasting your breath. I'm not some stupid girl anymore, and like I said—I've already lost my virginity. I'm well aware of what I'd be missing—"

  “Belle—”

  "That's quite enough,” she hisses. “This has nothing to do with us playing chess. You’ve gotten us so far off topic. Now, Judas. Tell me. If you win—what do you want from me?"

  He leans back in his chair, his blue eyes cocky and glinting. “Spend the night with me.”

  “Judas, you just said you wouldn’t force me to—”

  “Not like that, Belle. I mean, just spend a whole night with me. Talk to me like you don’t wanna kill me.”

  "One night?" He nods, but she shakes her head. "I don’t think that’s possible."

  “Why? Afraid you’ll lose control?”

  "I can’t—"

  "Can't or won't?" he asks, narrowing his eyes.

  Belle weighs the stakes in her head. Can she risk one night with Judas—knowing there’s more to this than he’s letting on—for her chance to get some escape…?

  She needs to run, feel the cool breeze caress her face as she gulps in greedy amounts of fresh air. She needs the space to think, to feel, to get a grip on what’s happening without being under the microscope of her watcher—or she’ll go mad.

  She needs to run and never stop.

  Her head rises. “Doesn’t matter, since you aren't going to win anyway."

  "Does that mean you'll finally shut up and play me?" he grins.

  She sits down and sighs, "Let's play."

  He smiles, the points of his teeth barely visible behind his lips as he indicates her side of the board. "I believe white goes first."