by Jenika Snow
“I am.” She flicked her gaze to his. “You didn’t answer my question about if this is your place.”
He stayed silent for a moment.
“I just figured if we are going to be together I should probably know more about you.” She spoke without a hint of uncertainty, and he had to give her credit for keeping her shit together.
“I purchased this property last year under an alias. It isn’t attached to me whatsoever.” He waited a moment for that to sink in, but she didn’t even blink, and instead continued eating. “That is one of the benefits in doing the line of work that I do, Bethany.” He leaned in another inch and rested his forearms on the table. “I can be anyone I want, access systems that are locked up so tight they don’t even know I was there.”
“That’s how you got to my money?” She breathed out heavily. “How you orchestrated everything?”
He nodded slowly. “Working for your father was not a plan of mine to get to you. But then there you were, and I knew I had to have you.” He felt no remorse for what he had done, and wouldn’t. “I am who I am, do what I do because that is all I know and it works, and make no apologies. You want to leave, and I am not so twisted that I don’t understand why you want to, but you and I are kindred souls.” He reached out and grabbed her hand. He tugged on it gently. “Come here.”
She stood right away and a surge of pleasure filled him at her obedience. She moved over to him, and the strength and confidence that suddenly came from her filled his head like a sweet, addicting drug.
“I just want to make you happy.”
He wished she was one hundred percent genuine on that, but even though he knew she was still hesitant, he did sense her confusion. She felt something for him. He had seen it in the way she looked at him, in the way she brushed up against him, but then, as if she realized what she was doing, she would frown slightly and move away. He stood and cupped her cheek. Lowering his head and pressing his lips to hers had his cock twitching behind his pants. But she didn’t shy away, and instead slipped one of her hands around the nape of his neck and pulled him closer. He groaned deeply against her lips, slid his tongue along the seam of her mouth, and moved closer so that his shaft pressed into her belly.
“I’m scared of a lot of things, Abe.”
He moaned again, loving her truthful fear, and her admittance of it all. “Being scared is the only real emotion we have in this life, Bethany.” They kissed for long seconds, and then those seconds turned into minutes of panting, sucking, licking and nipping. “I’m going to fuck you tonight.” He ran his tongue along the swell of her bottom lip. “I’m going to have you hot, sweaty, and screaming out my name.”
She moaned and slipped her hand up the back of his head, pulling him even closer.
He moved his hands over her shoulders, down her back, and gripped her ass. She might only have been wearing the unflattering sweats and t-shirt, but God she made him harder than he had ever been.
“Take this chain off and let me really be with you, Abe.”
He loved the way she said his name, and how she added a little moan at the end when he squeezed her ass. He had to give her credit, she could be a seductress when the time called for it. He pulled away and cupped either side of her face. “I know you want me.” He moved one of his hands down her belly, slipped it under the waistband of her sweats into her panties, and felt the light covering of silky hair that covered her mound. “I bet you’re soaked for me, Bethany.” He lightly pressed his mouth to hers. He moved his fingers through her wet folds, and lower still to the opening of her body. “You’re fucking soaked for me, baby.”
She gasped when he slid his finger into her body, and instantly her inner muscles clenched around the digit.
“No one will ever love you the way I love you, Bethany.” He pumped his finger in and out of her slowly. “No one will make you feel this alive, or this good.” He ran his tongue along her lips. “And no one will protect you with their last breath like I will.” He tasted her tears as he continued to stroke his tongue along her mouth. She tasted good when she was crying. “For the past year my obsession grew to the point that I knew I loved you with everything inside of me. I would kill for you.” He pumped his finger deep into her. “I won’t let anyone else have you.”
“Abe, please.”
He felt her resistance breaking, her actual resistance and not this façade she was trying to fake. “Tell me this doesn’t feel good, that I don’t make you feel better than you ever have in your life.”
She gasped against his mouth and pulled slightly back from him so she could look in his eyes. “Abe…” She closed her eyes when he started pumping in and out of her harder and faster.
Yeah, she liked exactly what he did to her. “Stop fighting it. Stop fighting me, baby.” He went back to kissing her, showing her that they were two parts of the same whole, that she was his other half, and that their lives could be brought together to be perfection. But as he kissed her harder and faster, wanting to be buried so deep inside of her that they were no longer two separate people, but one person, he sensed a change in her. It was a resolve, a shift in the pressure of her mouth on his, and a change in her breathing. He heard the scrape of wood on metal right as he pulled back and started to turn his head. And then he saw the pan coming right at him.
* * *
It took a lot for Bethany not to throw up as soon as the pan connected with the side of Abe’s head. The sound of the metal hitting his skull made this sickening noise that filled her head. She was already running on adrenaline from when she’d first decided to do this and for a moment as he kissed and touched her she feared that she’d lose her nerve. He just made her feel so alive, and his words and the way he touched her enflamed her to the point that all she wanted to do was melt into him and forget about everything.
She had purposefully cooked so much pasta that her muscles strained from holding it. This was all a spur of the moment plan, one that she didn’t even know would work, but one she had to at least try. He fell to the floor, a low groan leaving him as he hit the ground. She expected him to get up right away, but when a trail of blood started to slip down his temple she knew she had only a few precious moments. She crouched and started running her hands over his pockets, slipping them inside, trying to find the key. He wore his standard black cargo pants and there were more than four pockets to go through. She was becoming even more frustrated and hopeless as she came up empty-handed. And then she found the key in his side pocket, quickly searched out the one that would fit in the lock at her ankle, and slid it in. The sound of that lock disengaging was music to her ears, but there was also this other emotion that moved through her, a different kind of fear, of what would be on the outside of this cabin. It wasn’t because of the woods that surrounded them, but of the life she was going back to. But she had to try, had to tell them she hadn’t left, that she was alive, and that she was getting the fuck away from them and living on her own terms.
She quickly kicked the chain away and all but ran to the front door. Abe was starting to groan and shift on the floor. She had caught him off guard, obviously, but he wouldn’t stay down for long. This was a lucky break for her. If he hadn’t have gone down she would have been screwed as well as not known what else to do. She all but tore the front door open and ran across the porch, down the stairs, and into the woods. She had on only a pair of sweats, a t-shirt, and a pair of socks, but she didn’t care, because she needed to get out of here for her own sanity, safety, and livelihood. But the problem was it was dark, and she had no clue where she was. He had brought her the wine from the exclusive winery in Sinnerstown, but she realized very soon after she looked at it that just because he had it didn’t mean they were close to anything remotely familiar. But she had been grasping for a lot of things at the moment, and in the heat of it all had grabbed onto the hope that everything would be okay. She was a damn fool.
She ran hard and fast across the dirt-covered ground, but she knew she had to get away from
the main path of travel because when he did come after her—which she knew he would—it would be easy for him to pick her off. You stupid fucking fool. Abe is a trained killer. You actually think you can hide from him?
“Shut up,” she whispered to herself and ran harder. The moon was high and bright, but the branches were thick on the evergreen and blue spruces, and only when they parted sporadically did she see the silvery glow on the ground before her. The rocks and sticks punctured her socks, and through the pain she pushed on further and harder. There were times when it felt like her heart would beat right through her chest when she heard a noise behind her, but no way in hell would she stop. She couldn’t, because although he’d said he wouldn’t hurt her, after what she had done she didn’t doubt she had pushed him over the edge.
It felt like she had been running for miles upon miles. Her lungs burned, sweat covered her entire body, and her arms and feet ached from the debris of the forest. She pushed away a branch and it scraped her along the forearm. Searing pain lanced up her arm, but all of that discomfort faded when she saw a road. She ran the last couple of feet, pushed away the overgrowth that blocked her escape, and when she finally broke free she nearly fell onto her knees. The asphalt felt incredible on her feet, but she wasn’t nearly safe. There were no signs where she was standing, but she also knew she needed to keep going and stay off the road. Being out in the open was dangerous. Now that she was on smooth ground she realized how painful the bottoms of her feet were. She limped across the way, and slinked back behind the trees on the other side of the road. For just a second she allowed herself to lean against one of the thick trunks and catch her breath. She tried to be quiet but she felt like she was so loud that Abe would be able to find her from her breathing alone.
Turning around and holding onto the bark, she peered around the trunk and scanned from left to right. She didn’t see anything, and didn’t hear anything aside from the obnoxiously loud noises coming from her. She looked down the road to her left, and did the same to her right. It was just a long stretch of darkness on either side of her, and she had no clue which direction town was. But standing here wasn’t going to get her any closer to anything, so she needed to keep moving. She took a right and kept to the trees, always scanning the surroundings because she knew at any moment Abe was going to come for her.
She walked, and walked, and walked some more until she felt the warmth of blood come from the soles of her feet and they became numb. Sweat still continued to pour from her, but she refused to slow, refused to give up, and refused to allow the thoughts of still wanting Abe to consume her. Why did she have to want him? Was she suffering from some form of Stockholm Syndrome? Was she that brainwashed after only a week of being in his presence, of feeling him touch her, stroke her, and kiss her, that she couldn’t think rationally? He had told her he loved her, that no one would ever love her like he did. But they hadn’t just been empty words. She had actually felt the emotion and truth as he spoke to her. But how deranged was she that she actually felt pleasure knowing her captor had taken her, touched her, and professed his love? Could she actually care about someone like that?
“Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.” She gripped her head and pulled at her hair, trying to focus on what was really important.
She swore she had been walking for hours, and although the hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end, and the feeling of being watched was strong inside of her, she brushed it off as her nerves and the fear she felt. Surely if Abe was close and watching her he would have taken action already. No, she was paranoid because of the situation. She hadn’t seen any vehicles, but then again if she had she probably wouldn’t have asked for help anyway for fear that it might be Abe. Finally, after what felt like ages, she saw the lights of Sinnerstown. A choked sound left her, but she honestly couldn’t tell if it was joy or despair at the fact that she was close to her old life again. Her father’s estate was on the edge of town, closer than she even realized, but soon she stepped back onto the road and moved toward the long, winding street up to the mansion. It was another long and painful trek up the road, but then she saw the massive wrought-iron gates that blocked entrance to her father’s home. There were two guards stationed beside the gate, and although she couldn’t see any weapons, she knew they were armed.
“Who’s there?” one of the guards called out and took a step forward. The other man did the same, and they both placed their hands at their sides, by their guns.
“It’s me. God, please help me.” She swallowed the dryness in her throat and stumbled forward.
Chapter Twelve
Bethany felt a kind of dread settle in the closer she got to them. The mansion stood in all its lit glory atop the hill beyond the gate.
“Miss Sterling?” one of the men called out.
“Shit, it’s Bethany Sterling.” Both men rushed up to her and grabbed her before she fell to the ground. “Marcus, call up at the house and tell them Bethany is out here.”
She reached out. “No, wait, please.” For some reason those words came from her on their own. She didn’t want them knowing she was here just yet, but she couldn’t understand why she felt that way. The men looked hesitant, but they both nodded and carried her to the gate. There was a small SUV parked to the side, and once they had her inside and the gates open, they drove up to the house.
“Miss, we should really inform Mr. Sterling you’re here,” said the man that was sitting in the backseat with her.
She shook her head, but kept her focus forward. The guard driving kept glancing at her in the rearview mirror, but he didn’t speak. The drove up to the mansion was quick, and when they parked the SUV in front of the driveway and helped her out, she found the strength to hold herself up. There were a few young valet boys that stared at her with wide expressions, but they looked more frightened than anything else. They moved past the entrance, down the long ornate hallway, and into the sitting room just before the great room where most of the parties her mother and father held were located. She could hear music coming from the closed doors, and even though she couldn’t see that there was a party going on inside, she knew they were celebrating.
“A party.” She had meant to think that instead of say it out loud, but at her words both of the guards stopped and looked at her.
“Yes, Miss. Mr. Sterling landed a rather big account with his firm, and they are throwing a dinner party because of it.”
She stared at the man who spoke, but words failed her for several seconds as she processed it all. She had been missing for a week, and even though there had been a note and they had been led to believe she had run from her “obligations,” it had still been only a week. How hard had her father really tried to find her? Clearly he hadn’t used every resource at his disposal or he surely would have known she was at some obscure cabin in the woods. But strangely, after that revelation she had no tears or sorrow because a dinner party was more important to her father than making sure she was even alive. She pushed past the guards. After gripping the handles and taking a deep breath, she opened the doors and stared at the fifty-plus people in the great room. Some danced, others stood by the buffet or the bar, but her sight was riveted on her mother and father, who spoke with a group of people. Steven was amongst those men and women. The men were dressed in perfectly tailored and pressed suits, and the women in formal evening attire. And here she stood in ratty sweats, a disgusting and torn shirt, and covered in dirt and blood.
No one noticed her for several minutes, and she certainly didn’t make her presence known. All Bethany could do was stare at the falseness that surrounded her: the laughter, the ticking of expensive jewelry clanking against the crystal glasses, and the plastered-on smiles of the party guests. She had been so much better locked away in that cabin and chained to that wall. And then, as if the music suddenly stopped and the voices dimmed, one by one they turned and stared at her. The gasps that came from the women, and the deep murmurs from the men all spoke of the same thing: shock at her filthy
and rundown appearance. When her mother and father turned and noticed her, the sound of glass breaking as her mother dropped her champagne flute filled the room.
“Bethany? Oh my word,” her mother said in a shocked voice.
Her father said nothing, just stared at her with a disgusted look on his face. No doubt her appearance would cause embarrassment to him. But no, don’t let him come closer, reveal that she was actually alive, and thank God that she was here. Steven also had a look of shock on his face, but she noticed he kept glancing at her father, as if waiting for the cue to react accordingly.
“Where on earth have you been?” her father asked in his ever-present cool voice.
Her mother stepped closer, but as if she, too, were disgusted over the leaves in Bethany’s hair, the dirt that covered her skin, and the blood on her arms and feet. She looked at her father, and then at Steven, and then ended on her mother.
“You’re hurt.” Her mother was like Robert’s puppet, doing as he said, when he said, and only taking her direction from him. But there was a glimmer of something motherly reflected back at Bethany. But then again that might just be her trying to find the good and right in this even more fucked-up situation.
She just couldn’t keep her mouth closed, couldn’t hold in these feelings of hatred and loathing that surrounded her. Maybe that was one of the good things about being with Abe? He had showed her that she could stand up for herself. “I am missing, but you throw a party for a promotion?” She kept her voice strong, refusing to show anyone that this was the last nail in the coffin of her fake life.
“Bethany, you’ll watch your tongue, young lady,” her father said harshly, and glanced around the room.
“I embarrass you,” she said without remorse. No longer would Bethany allow him or anyone else to suffocate her.
Robert said nothing, and made no move.
“Darling, where have you been?” Steven said and moved closer, but when she held up her hand to stop him she also glared.