by J. L. Beck
We get out together, and he releases me for a second to grab a towel.
He dries me off from head to toe before he wraps my body in a large towel and my hair in a smaller one. The way he does it with such ease has my mind kicking into overdrive. It seems like he has done this before and the thought of Ivan giving another woman a shower or bath like this has a lot of unwanted feelings settling into my gut. Curiosity gets the better of me and though I know I shouldn't, I ask anyway.
“Do you do this a lot? I'm only asking because it seems like you know what you are doing wrapping up my long hair in that towel.”
“I haven't done this in a very long time, and I don't typically.” Sadness coats his words. I'm relieved at his confession, and again, I don't understand why. It’s not like he really cares about me. Not in a sense that he cares what will happen to me after I leave this place.
He wraps a towel around himself before leading me to his bedroom. Once there, he deposits me onto his bed. It’s so soft underneath my legs, all I want to do is curl up and go to sleep on it.
Dread overcomes me like a wave when I remember what he said… I can shower and then I’m going back in the cell. I’ve been trying not to think about it, and I succeeded, but now that I remember what’s going to happen, I’m on the verge of crying.
This is only a short vacation from my new reality. He is going to bring me back downstairs and leave me and then I might never see him again. My eyes burn with unshed tears. I don’t know why but I don’t want to cry in front of him right now. I watch him dig through his dresser, grabbing a few items and throwing them onto the bedside me.
He turns back around to face me, and I try to hide that I am on the verge of crying but, of course, he sees the unshed tears in my eyes.
“I told you… I can let you take a shower, but you have to go back to the cell now.”
“I know. It’s just... I'm always cold and alone. And scared that those guys will come back.”
Ivan gives me a conflicted look, and I know I should be thankful for a shower and I am, but I don't want to be down there. I don't want to be away from him.
“I’ll give you something warmer to wear and like I said before, they won’t come back. They might be dumb but they know how to follow orders… they won’t disobey me.” His gaze flickers over my half-naked body like he might be tempted to want something more from me.
“I… that's all I can and will do for you. No one is going to mess with you while you’re here.” He doesn’t apologize, and I don't expect him to. I just need to stop hoping for a miracle and realize that soon I’ll be nothing but some rich man’s toy. This is my new life...
“Here, put these on.” He points at the clothes beside me. A thick gray sweatshirt that looks to be three times too big and a matching pair of sweatpants, with a black pair of boxers.
“Do you have some paper towels?” I feel my cheeks heat with embarrassment as soon as I ask the question. I'll take the embarrassment over bleeding all over myself.
“Yeah, why?” he asks as I watch him get dressed. His movements are effortless.
“For my… you know… period.” I don’t know what I’m more embarrassed about, talking about my period or the fact that I just watched him get dressed.
He doesn’t seem to be embarrassed about either thing and walks out of the room, leaving me alone for few moments. I immediately start to panic.
Until this moment, I thought I just didn’t want him to leave me in the cell by myself but now I realize I don't want him to leave me alone at all. I just want to be with him, near him. Maybe it's the constant being alone that scares me, or something else I don't really know, but the realization hits me hard because I know staying with him is never going to happen.
He comes back and hands me a roll of paper towels. I take it and pick up the clothes he’s laid out for me. “Can I do this in your bathroom?”
“Go ahead.” He nods toward the bathroom, and I get up and walk into the bathroom. I close the door behind me but don’t lock it. I don’t see the point. If he wants to come in here, I don't think the flimsy wooden door would stop him even if it was locked. That and if he wanted to hurt me, he already would've. I unwrap my towel and hang it on a hook before I unroll a few pieces of the paper towel and fold it into a pad.
I put it between my legs and pull the boxers on. I have to roll them up about ten time before they stay on, but this is much better than what I had before. I pick the bloody underwear up off the floor, cringing at the sight of them before tossing them into the waste basket under the sink.
Then I pull on the oversized sweatpants and sweatshirt, enjoying how heavy the thick material rests on my skin.
When I step back out moments later, Ivan is standing right in front of the door. He gives me a quick once-over and hands me a pair of socks. His face is void of all emotions and it’s like he’s slipped a mask on.
“Thank you.” I sit back down on the bed and pull them on. The socks, just like everything else, are way too big on me, but I couldn’t care less. Warmth is all that matters right now. Ivan is standing a few feet away, just watching me.
“It’s time to go back downstairs.” I nod, trying to be brave, but on the inside, I am so scared all I want to do is curl up in a ball and cry my eyes out.
We walk to the door together, and every step I take adds a two-pound rock to the contents of my stomach. Everything inside of me was screaming to beg and plead with him to stay.
“I’m going to carry you again. Keep your eyes closed,” he warns before he bends down and picks me up just like before. I close my eyes and lean into him, determined to enjoy every last second of this.
Chapter Six
Ivan
I place her back on the filthy mattress in her cell, even though every fiber in my body doesn’t want to. The thought of leaving her down her literally makes my chest hurt. She doesn't say anything, but her eyes tell me enough. She is begging me to take her back upstairs without a single word.
All she wants is for me to stay with her and if it wasn’t for the way she was clinging onto me, I wouldn’t even believe her.
How can she possibly feel safe with me?
Shaking my head, I turn around and walk toward the door. A quiet sob fills the room, and I can feel my heart crack wide open. Pushing through the expanding pain in my chest, I step out and shut the door behind me. I start walking away, thinking that I just need to get away and the need for her will fade. Instead, it gets stronger, like an invisible force pulling me backward, and I have to force my legs to move up the stairs.
Back at my apartment, I grab my jacket and my phone before I head back out. I need to get away from this place for a few hours to clear my head. It takes me ten minutes to walk through the heavily guarded compound and get to my car. It takes me another five minutes to make it through all the gates surrounding the building.
The whole time I can only think about one thing—the petite woman I left curled up on the mattress in that cell. I could never get her out of here unnoticed.
This place has more security than a level-five prison. The only way she is going to make it out of here is with a collar and a price tag around her neck—or in a body bag, but I refuse to let that happen.
That thought has me gripping onto the leather-wrapped steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turn white. I drive around aimlessly for a long time before I end up in front of some bar. I have every intention of getting so drunk that I forget my own name but after I down my second glass of whiskey, I realize that I can’t bring myself to do it. I can’t sit here and drink my sorrows away while she is scared and alone in that basement.
I throw some cash on the bar top and walk back out to my car, where I pass a couple on the way. They are holding hands, and she is leaning into him while giggling at something he said. And just like that, I find myself longing for something I have never wanted before… something I can never have, at least not with her.
Knowing that I can’t save her from getting sold
is eating me alive. It feels like someone poured acid into my gut. I can’t change her fate but maybe I can at least keep her comfortable until the auction. I know it’s a horrible idea and that it won’t change anything in the end, but I just can’t go on like it’s not killing me to know she is down there. I could just go and sit with her… at least until she falls asleep.
On my way back to the compound, I pass a twenty-four hour pharmacy and decide to stop in. I suppose she could use some womanly stuff. I pull into the parking lot and park, exhaling deeply. What the hell am I doing? I don't even have a damn answer. Five minutes later, I stand in front of a shelf filled with tampons and pads.
What. The. Fuck.
Why are there so many different types of these things? How the fuck am I going to know what to get? Out of the corner of my eye, I see a middle-aged woman walk up to where I’m standing.
She grabs a pack of pads off the shelf and puts it in her shopping basket. Then she stops and looks up at me curiously. I look away before she sees me looking at her.
“There is no way in hell my husband would ever bring himself to buy me this. You look a little lost though.”
Is it that obvious? Holy hell. Before I can get a word out, she turns and grabs another package off the shelf and hands it to me.
“Here, these are a good brand and they're a multipack for each kind of flow, so you can’t go wrong.”
What the fuck is flow? I hold the box of pads in my hand, looking down at them like they're going to grow a second head. The unknown lady gives me a soft smile, walking away before I can thank her. I toss the box into my little basket and look over the rest of the aisle.
Right next to the pads are condoms and a selection of lube. In an instant, my mind is filled with images of using both. Rolling a condom on my cock right before sliding into her. Rubbing lube all over her ass… maybe slipping a finger deep inside.. My dick is already pressing uncomfortably against my zipper, and I quickly turn to walk away before I get a raging hard on in the middle of this store.
I shake my head at myself... sex, with her? Not that it’s a bad thought. The innocence she carries tells me she’s a virgin. I mean, she had no idea how to give me a damn hand job. There’s no way she’s had sex and not given a hand job before. The problem with the thought is that sex is something I can never have with her. She must remain intact if she’s to be sold to the highest bidder.
It’s her owner’s duty to strip her of her innocence to claim her, and I grit my fucking teeth at the thought. I hurry down the aisle and grab a pack of underwear hanging on one of the end caps. I check that they’re a size small and then I rush down the next aisle and get a toothbrush and some toothpaste before I head to the register and pay for all of it.
The drive back to the compound only takes me a few minutes, and I park my car in the same spot as before and walk in with a bag full of stuff I never thought I would be carrying into this place… or carrying period. I walk straight downstairs, bypassing the guards, not stopping until I’m standing right in front of her cell, looking through the one-way mirror. If it wasn’t for her blond hair, I would think there was just a pile of laundry laying on the bed.
I almost grin. She is curled in on herself, my clothes swallowing her tiny body. I stand there like an idiot watching her for a few minutes before I pull out my keys and unlock the door. As soon as she hears the door open, she sits up straight, her big blue eyes wide and alert.
I shouldn’t be here; it becomes more apparent as a small smile pulls at her full lips. Clearly, she enjoys seeing me, probably looks forward to it. Fuck.
I cross the room and hold the grocery bag out to her.
“I got this stuff for you. I wasn’t sure exactly what you needed so I got a multi pack.”
She hesitantly takes the bag and looks inside it like something might jump out and bite her.
“Thank you.” It’s the most genuine thank you I’ve ever heard in my entire life, like I’ve just given her a bottle of water after a ten-mile walk in the desert. She takes the bag and carries it to the tiny bathroom.
“It’s nothing.” I shrug, playing it off when in reality it’s huge. I’ve not only broken every one of my own rules by taking her out of her cell and giving her a shower, but now I’ve gone to the store and bought her a bunch of things.
This place isn’t supposed to be a good, enjoyable, happy place. It’s not a vacation, it’s a fucking death sentence, and I don’t know why the hell I’m trying to make it seem like anything other than that. I see her wince as she hobbles back toward the mattress.
I clench my jaw. I shouldn’t care if she’s in pain. In fact, I don’t... or at least I tell myself that, right up until I fucking open my mouth. “Are you okay?” I growl, simply because I don’t want to ask the question but feel compelled to.
This woman represents everything I cannot have, everything that is bad about me and this damn world that I live in.
“Yes, I’m fine. It’s just cramps; sometimes they’re really bad.” She sits back down while holding a hand to her stomach. “It should be better tomorrow. Usually the first and second day are the worst for me and today is my second.”
“Where is that medicine I gave you?” My eyes scan the mattress, but I don’t see the bottle. She reaches between the wall and the mattress and hands it to me. I open the bottle and let one pill fall into my hand.
“Take it,” I order and hold it out to her.
“I really don’t want to. I’ll be fine, I swear. I have this every month, you know.” Of course, I know she is right. This is nothing. She and every other woman on the planet deal with this every month. The problem is, none of my thoughts concerning her are rational.
“Take it and I stay until you go to sleep. Don’t take it and I leave now.”
She only thinks about it for two seconds before she takes the pill and washes it down with some water. I sit down next to her. She immediately scoots over to press her body against mine and leans her head against my arm. In a perfect world, someone like her would never look at someone like me to protect them, to save them.
“Why me?” she whispers. “Why did you have them kidnap me from that club?”
“I didn’t. I don’t know why they took you. I don’t usually deal with this part of the business. The girls who get selected have nothing to do with me.”
I don’t know why I tell her this. I know I shouldn’t. It doesn’t change anything.
“They called you boss.”
“I’m their boss... not the boss.” I crack my knuckles, needing to do something with my hands before I run them through her silky hair.
She doesn’t ask any more questions after that, and I’m so fucking glad that she doesn’t. Silence settles over us and the room seems so quiet. I look at the four white walls. There is no sunlight or saving grace to this room. Everything about it makes me want to pick her up and carry her upstairs to my bedroom. She belongs in a bed. My bed.
No. The thought is irrational. She is not mine, and she never will be. There an internal battle taking place inside me and for once in my damn life, I want to do the right thing.
I couldn’t save her... but I can save the tiny woman leaning against me. I listen, waiting for her breathing to even out and once it does, I listen a little longer before I get up very slowly, leaving her on the mattress. I walk to the door and unlock it. It creaks loudly when I open it, and I half expect her to wake back up at the noise, since it’s so fucking loud. When she doesn’t, I remember what she said to me before. If she takes the pills then someone could come into her cell and take advantage of her, and she wouldn’t be able to defend herself.
The thought makes me furious. Jesus fucking Christ, I feel like it’s a losing battle no matter what. I slam the door shut loudly while I’m still in the room and watch her closely.
Fucking great. Nothing. She doesn't even stir at the loud noise vibrating off the walls of her cell. I told the guys not to come near her again but what if one of my men is stupid enough t
o go against my orders? It wouldn’t be the first fucking time. Every worst-case scenario possible pops into my head. What if someone comes in here, and she can’t do anything? What if they steal from her the only thing she has left to give?
The only reason she got away last time is because she fought them, I remember Luca’s face. He looked like a feral cat scratched his face… or a kitten. I look down at her motionless form. This time, with the pain pills in her system, there wouldn't be any fighting. She won’t know what’s happened until it’s too late, and I won’t be fucking responsible for that shit. I’ve got enough dark shit hanging over my head.
A surge of anger overcomes me, and I have to let it out. I’m so angry, furious. I need to break something but there is nothing in this fucking room, and that infuriates me even more. My hands are balled into tight fists, and I use one to punch the unforgiving concrete wall. It’s a stupid choice, one I’m aware of as soon as my knuckles kiss the concrete. This just adds to the long list of stupid choices I’ve been making lately.
“Fuck,” I bellow in pain, the sound of my voice loud in this piece of shit nothingness, and I grit my teeth, letting the pain fester inside of me. My hand throbs, and when I flex my fingers, more pain radiates from it, up and throughout my arm.
I know what I have to do, and I don’t want to do it. I fucking don’t, but I won’t be able to live with myself if something happens to her while she is here. She’s my responsibility now. I can’t just forget about her.
I unlock the door once more before I pick up her limp body from the mattress and hold her to my chest. I carry her through the building and up to the third floor. As always, most of my men are either sleeping or doing other things. I somehow manage to unlock the door while holding her in my arms. Once inside, I take her to my bedroom and place her on the bed.
She looks like she belongs here. I shake my head and walk out of the bedroom.