by Jenika Snow
“You bastard.” She reared her arm back and launched the lamp as hard as she could. But it didn’t hit his head like she had been aiming for, crashing into the wall beside him instead. He looked at the shattered remains of the lamp on the floor, and a fierce, horrid look of anger covered his face. He was already moving toward her before she could find something to defend herself with. He grabbed her throat again and squeezed enough for her to know he was serious.
“You want to hurt me, Bethany?” He let go of her only long enough to tear his shirt from his body. She could see the dark lines of a tattoo on his side. The lines were so sharp and defined that they looked like cuts, but she could see that they were in fact inked into his skin. He must have seen that she was looking at his side, because he reached out and grabbed her hand in a painful, unyielding grip.
“Let me go, you bastard.”
He grinned, but it was a sadistic smile that had her blood chilling. He lifted his other arm, his muscles and tendons bunching from the action. “You see these, Bethany?” He ran a finger over the long, dark lines that covered his entire side. “This was my gift for surviving and transforming into the monster I am today.” He yanked her close so she crashed against his chest. “Every line on my body is a dirty, foul life that I took.”
She breathed fast, trying to pull away from him, but feeling her traitorous body melt and grow warm and wet for him.
“I slit their throats, watched the blood arc out, and saw it fill the ground beneath my feet.”
He was moving his thumb back and forth along her pulse right beside her ear, and as much as she feared him right now, she wanted him to touch her in a way no other man had touched her before: carnal, hard, possessive, making her feel like she was the only one for him. He pushed her back on the bed, and in a matter of seconds had her pants torn from her body so that she was nude from the waist down. Bethany didn’t hide herself, didn’t cross her legs or shy away. She was angry and aroused, and her pain and rage seemed to fill the entire room. She stared at him, hoping he could see the wave of emotions that were moving through her. And when he smirked, she knew he had but that he didn’t care. She placed her feet flat on the bed and spread her legs wide so he could get a look at her.
“Is this what you fucking want?” She curled her hands into the sheets and pulled at them, keeping her gaze trained right on him. It was hard keeping her legs open like that so he could gaze at her private parts, and even though she was wet for him, she forced herself to stay keep her legs spread. He stood there, his gaze right on her pussy, and although she could see that he was hard, he didn’t move closer. “You bastard.” She gritted the words out. “You pushed me, wanted me to snap when I saw all of those clothes.” She knew he had planned this, whether he would admit it or not.
“I wanted you to remember what your life was like.” He took a step forward, but still didn’t touch her.
She wanted him to touch her, wanted him to act like the motherfucker that she saw in front of her. “Well, here I am, slutting it up for you. Go on. Fuck me, you asshole.”
“You’re pushing a very dangerous man, Bethany.” His voice was so low, so frighteningly low that goose bumps formed along her arms and legs. The sun shone through the blinds, and the dark and light lines that moved along his body only amplified the power that came from him.
“Good, because you’ve already pushed me.” She was crying so hard now that her vision was becoming blurry, and Abe’s form was almost undistinguishable. For several seconds they did nothing but stare at each other, and she could feel the tension and dangerous arousal climb to a suffocating level. And then he was on her, his mouth on hers, and his hand between her legs. She fought him off at first, tried to close her legs and bite his mouth. But he was the one that bit her lip, and the pain that encompassed her had her grabbing chunks of his hair and pulling his head back. They breathed hard as they stared at each other, and she could see a smear of blood at the corner of his mouth from when he bit her.
“I could take you right now and you wouldn’t say no.” He seemed so confident, as if he had no doubt whatsoever of the outcome.
She wanted to tell him to fuck off, that she would never willingly give herself to him, but the truth was she knew that if things kept progressing this way she would be the one begging him for more. He made her feel alive, made her realize how fake she had always felt—even if she had known deep down she was misplaced.
He started rubbing his fingers through her folds. “You’re so wet for me, so ready to take me into your body.” He continued to torment and humiliate her with his coarse but truthful words. “But I’m not going to take you. I’m not going to fuck you until you ask me for it.”
“I did ask you for it.” She pushed the words out as he moved his fingers toward her clit and started rubbing the nub back and forth.
He shook his head. “No, you are having a tantrum, exerting the strength you think you have over me.” With one more rub to her clit he pulled away, brought his glistening fingers to his mouth, and sucked them clean. He didn’t make a noise when he did the obscene act, and then moved away from her.
For several seconds she stayed there with her legs spread, pissed that he’d denied her this act of freedom when he had pushed her to the brink.
“Clean this mess up and put your pants back on.” And then he left her alone to do just that. She felt like a scolded child, like she had done something wrong and was being punished for it. And when he shut the door behind him there was a finality to it. She closed her legs and curled into the fetal position on the bed, and for the first time her tears were because she realized maybe Abe had done her a favor by taking her away.
Chapter Seven
Abe grabbed a few more jugs of water from the small shed by the cabin and walked over to his truck. It had been a few days since he had brought Bethany to the cabin, and although she was more docile then she had been since she first arrived he could see her calculating her plan. She honestly thought she’d escape him, and that he would allow anyone to take her. It was infuriating that she still couldn’t see what was right in front of her. But he also couldn’t deny that when she had broken apart at the sight of her suitcase and the clothes that represented her life, a surge of pleasure and power had filled him. And when she’d chucked that lamp at his head, despite being pissed, he’d felt pride that she was breaking down the walls she had so easily erected around herself. Oh, she knew what her life had been like, and clearly hated it, but she never did anything about it. Well, he had changed that for her, and took her away from the nightmare she was stuck in.
He opened his truck, slipped the key in the ignition, and turned it until his radio kicked on. As he waited for the news, he lit a cigarette and stared at the kitchen window. He could see her on the other side, staring out the window over the sink. No doubt she was contemplating how she could escape, although he admitted she was warming to him—at least that was the guise of the game she was playing. He had to give her credit, she was a smart and cunning woman, but what she should already know that he wasn’t a man to give up on what he wanted. He hadn’t meant to show her his tattoos, or tell her how many men he had killed. He had been vague up until that point, had wanted to make sure she was connected to him with no worry that she’d try and leave before he told her he had been trained to take out men by the organization that had taken him in. That life was not what he wanted to focus on now. Right now he wanted to only worry about his life with Bethany. When the news started playing he waited until he heard what he was waiting for.
“The search for Bethany Sterling, the daughter of millionaire Robert Maximus Sterling, is still underway. But sources say the young socialite who was set to marry Steven Michael St. Gerrard has left of her own free will. With clothing gone and a typed note left, Robert Sterling is using his resources to locate his daughter, who has apparently run away with no other word or contact to her family.”
Abe leaned against the side of the truck, continuing to stare at Bethany
and smoke his cigarette, and listened to the news basically say there wasn’t shit they could do. Robert had an unlimited amount of resources, but thinking his daughter had left willingly would achieve what Abe had been going for, and that was Sterling turning his back on what he considered the embarrassment of the family.
“The authorities are still continuing their search at the request of Mr. Sterling, but with no leads and the assumption that Miss Sterling left on her own due to the evidence, the search is coming to a standstill. There is a person in question, an employee of Mr. Sterling that has gone missing as well. Although the note Miss Sterling left doesn’t speak of running away with someone, there is speculation that Bethany Sterling and Abe Sparrow may have had a forbidden relationship.”
Abe turned off the radio and took his keys out of the ignition. After snubbing out his cigarette, he grabbed the jugs of water that he had set on the ground and slammed the truck door shut. He walked up the porch and into the cabin, and instantly trained his gaze on Bethany. She leaned against the counter, watching him with an unreadable expression. He set the water down by the door and walked into the kitchen. He didn’t go to her, but instead grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the cupboard, took two glasses out, and moved to stand beside her. Without speaking he poured the whiskey into both glasses and slid one over to her.
“Go on. I’m sure you could use a drink.” He didn’t look at her as he drank the two fingers deep shot of whiskey, and when he set the glass on the counter and refilled it he noticed she had yet to touch hers. “Drink, because I know you fucking need it after listening to the news.” He glanced over at her. She was watching him, but finally reached out and grabbed the glass, tossed it back, and breathed out through the burn. He lifted up the bottle and she nodded for another and held her glass out to him.
“How did you know I was listening to the news?” she asked and lifted the glass to her mouth to finish the alcohol.
He tilted his chin toward the small battery-operated radio on the counter. She looked over at it. The red light indicated that it was still on, and she reached out and turned it off.
“It doesn’t matter, because if I didn’t want you to listen to it I wouldn’t have left the radio out.” He drank his second, set the cup on the counter and pushed it away. “Besides, I planned on having you listen for yourself to what is happening. I mean, it is your life, after all.”
She didn’t respond. For several minutes they stayed there in silence. Although the cabin was being run off a generator and Abe could stay here for the rest of his life if it came down to it, he wanted more isolation than this place provided. There were close enough to Sinnerstown that he was still edgy, on alert and watching his every move.
“Can I ask you something?”
He crossed his arms over his chest and looked over at her. She continued to stare out the window, and he ran his gaze down to her ankle. He still had her chained, but he had lengthened it so she could at least walk the length of the living room and kitchen. But he wasn’t a fool. He had taken away anything that could have been used as a deadly weapon, and hoped soon he would be able to unchain her so they could actually walk the property. She turned and faced him then and he stared into her eyes, ones that he had dreamt about staring up at him as he claimed her body and her soul. He could tell she was nervous, could see it in the way her lips trembled slightly, and by how she gripped the edge of the counter.
“Do you see us getting married, having children, and living happily ever after?” The question wasn’t laced with her acidic tone, as it had been just days before. She sounded genuinely concerned.
He took that one step closer to her, reached out to cup her cheek, and was pleased when she didn’t shy away from him. “I am not a happily-ever-after kind of man, but I won’t lie and say I don’t have an image of what our life will be like.” He smoothed his hand over her cheek, and for a moment his heart picked up pace as she leaned slightly into his embrace.
“And what do you imagine our life like?” she asked softly, without hesitation.
“I just image you and me.” He leaned in and kissed her softly at first, but as he started stroking the seam of her lips, he felt her respond to his touch and open for him, and he became that animal that wanted her desperately. He pressed his body fully against hers, placed his hands on the counter beside her body, and ground himself into her. She resisted only marginally, and he had noticed that over the past several days that resistance had slowly been waning the more he talked to her, touched her, and told her that she needed to look good and hard at what she wanted out of life. He broke the kiss and trailed his lips along her jawline and over to her ear. “Just tell me this is what you want, tell me that we can move forward and put our pasts behind us.”
She was breathing heavily against the side of his face, and although she wasn’t touching him, he knew she’d be wet between her thighs for him. For several long, agonizing seconds she didn’t respond, and it was taking every ounce of strength and willpower he possessed not to tear her clothes away and spread her out on the counter. He wanted her, wanted to fuck her until she couldn’t walk straight, and although he told her he would never force himself inside of her, that didn’t mean he hadn’t thought of it too many times to count. The dark, nasty part of him pictured her under him, bound and struggling as he took what he wanted, and showed her that he already owned every inch of her body. It was only a matter of time before she gave in to him, but she had to know by now that he was a patient, dangerous man, and he had all the time in the world.
“Just tell me to ease the suffering and open you up to what else is out there.” He had never been loved, never felt loved by anyone. He was in essence a machine that was sent out to do another’s bidding, to watch over his charges and destroy anything that threatened them. But then there was Bethany, and he was enthralled with her to the point that he was an obsessed and possessiveness mess concerning her. Would he kill anyone that stood in his way, or tried to take her away from him? Yes, and he’d do it with a grin on his face, taking pleasure from watching them bleed out. He felt how stiff her nipples were under her shirt. As much as that pleased him, he was even more pleased that she was wearing the plain shirt and sweatpants he had stocked in her dresser instead of the designer outfits that had been in her suitcase. She lifted her hands and placed them on his shoulders, and his fucking cock jerked at the feel of her willingly touching him.
“No.”
* * *
Abe held her for a few more seconds after she told him no, that she wouldn’t tell him to take her right then and there. Despite her body being on fire with this disgusting, misplaced lust, she was wet, her nipples were hard, and she was having a hard time not moaning for him to tear her clothes away and just push his cock into her. But she was trying to hold on to her strength. Yes, she realized how shallow and unfulfilled her life had been before, living under her parents’ scrutiny. And now, after being here with Abe for several days, listening him drill into her about how meaningless her life was before then, how she was a pawn, a puppet for others’ ultimate needs, she knew he was trying to wear her down with the truth. Did she believe that he really cared for her? There was a part of her that knew in his twisted reasoning he did, but it was this obsessive need that made him want her, and taking her away from her life hadn’t been the right way to go about it. But how did you try and reason with a psycho? And that was what he was, right? She wanted to believe he was insane, and that she was trapped at the mercy of a madman, but he hadn’t really hurt her…not really. He had frightened her, tried to make her see his point of view, but until she was ready to understand all of this and find out for herself that this was best, she was just his captive.
He pulled away, and the anger that came from him actually had her moving several steps back. He was breathing so hard that his nostrils flared out, and his chest rose and fell so violently that she held her breath. He frightened her at this moment, maybe even more so then he had any other time before. She had told h
erself to play along, to gain his trust so she could leave, but there was this stubborn part of her that wanted to go against the grain. She’d never been a fighter in her life, always a doormat for everyone around her. So she supposed she could thank Abe for opening her up to that fact, because with him she didn’t want to just submit. She wanted to fight and let him know that she was done with letting others dictate her life.
“You push my fucking buttons because you think you are safe from me.” He took a step closer to her, but it wasn’t his presence that scared her. The way he spoke so slowly, so deeply and menacingly, that was what had her blood running like ice. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey, and for a split second she thought he meant to hit her with it. He was certainly holding it tightly enough, and this physical show was clearly his way of letting her see the violence that he housed, but also that he had self-control. She didn’t know how she knew that, but she did.
“I’m done cowering, Abe.”
His nostrils flared again as he breathed in and out, and she heard him grind his teeth. He turned and threw the bottle of whiskey so hard against the side of the living room wall that a surprised cry left her and she covered her head with her hands. She stared as the amber liquid and small chards of glass slid down the wall. He turned on her faster than she could even comprehend, gripped her around the throat, and pressed her up against the counter. He was cutting off her oxygen now, but when his wild gaze slipped down to her throat he loosened his hold and breathed out.
“I’m not one of those motherfuckers in a suit that will smile and look the other way, Bethany.” He moved in so close that she felt his alcohol-laced breath move along her lips. Maybe she could blame her boldness on the fact she felt the warm burn of alcohol move through her veins. Either way, the situation had escalated to dangerous proportions. She was dealing with the aftereffects of his anger—which she had brought on.