Arson’s Captive

by Mason , V. F.

  Pressing my back against the concrete wall in the narrow dark alley between two streets, I blow into my fists, hoping they’ll warm up.

  My body trembles from the harsh winter that’s settled over New York. The clothes I’m wearing—worn-out jeans, shirt, and a coat full of holes—are things I’ve found in the homeless shelter trash bin and are soaked wet from the snow continuing to fall all over me.

  Turning my head to the side, I see a few men gathering in a circle, wrapping blankets tightly around themselves before someone shouts, “Who has the matches?” He walks toward the iron trashcan, throwing some cartons and paper in it, and looks around.

  Do they want to start a fire to warm up?

  I’m almost tempted to go to them, holding the lighter I still have from my escape and offering to light it up just to feel the prickles of fire under my fingertips but think better of it.

  Because far greater temptation awaits me tonight, and wasting my time on warming up would truly be a shame.

  After we escaped from Edward’s captivity, we drove as fast and far as Santiago’s skills allowed us until he finally crashed us into a tree and we bumped our heads hard.

  Thankfully, no one was injured, and when we heard a train pass by closely, we found the station where it waited for a few minutes and we hopped inside. Since it had sand and building supplies stacked around, no one noticed our presence.

  Only then did we breathe easily, leaving the area that had brought us so much pain.

  Staying together was dangerous though, and I’m not sure any of us wanted that anyway; we weren’t friends, just brothers in pain, as I liked to call us.

  So, to give us all a better chance at survival, we all headed to different states. Callum headed to Texas. Santiago picked Illinois, saluting me on his way out and shouting he was finally on his way back home.

  I ended up in New York, because there was nowhere else to go, but I didn’t mind.

  In the big cities, I had a better chance of survival than in some small town forgotten by God. On the first day, I found a place on the streets and for the first time in forever had some shut eye.

  Only to wake up to one homeless guy screaming his lungs out at me that I took his spot. But he became nice when he found out I was new, offered me his help and clothes, even showed me a place where I could have a warm meal for free twice a week.

  So that’s what I did, lived on the streets, enjoyed having freedom for the first time, even if mostly dumpsters and dirt along with hunger surrounded me.

  And I’d have been content if it weren’t for witnessing something a few days back.

  A man hitting a kid my age till he turned blue, making him beg for forgiveness over and over again. Even when the kid did, the man continued to deliver his blows one after another, laughing so harshly I could physically feel his satisfaction.

  The anger is still present in me today, my hands fisting as I imagine what it would be like to break his nose and push his head into the snow, while hitting him with a belt.

  Or even better…

  Slash a knife through him so he’ll suffer more.

  I wrap my coat tighter around me as the harsh wind slaps me on my face, making it almost impossible to breathe through the frigid air, but I welcome it, as it brings me relief from the fury chanting in my head to succumb to my craving.

  The knife pressing to my chest, the one I kept, calls my name, wanting to be used.

  And finally, the lighter in my palm almost sings to me to let the fire free and enjoy the suffering of the victims.

  Sometimes I think I’m insane for having such thoughts playing in my mind, repeating, demanding to be listened to, but on most days…

  I wish they were true.

  So maybe I should finally answer their calling and feed the beast roaring inside me, demanding vengeance and blood.

  With one last glance toward the homeless guys who finally found a match and excitedly sit around the fire, I blow a kiss to the orange and blue flames entwining and casting a shadow on the nearby wall.

  Jogging toward the other side of the alley where the bar is located, I hide behind the huge dumpster and wait, knowing the monster will come to dish out his punishment to the kid again.

  And sure enough, the black, iron door flings open, bouncing off the wall when a man emerges, yanking a kid by the hair who is barefoot, dragging the leather belt through the snow, the belt buckle almost swallowed by it.

  The fucker does it intentionally, so the cold metal will hurt the kid more.

  He is a beefy guy, so facing him head-on is impossible; he’d crush me in his hold, and for a second, I lose confidence in what I’m about to do.

  Is losing my life worth it?

  “Stealing food again, Brian!” he shouts, throwing the kid on the pile of snow, sending it flying up in a wave. He waits for Brian to sit up, only to raise his hand with the belt and deliver his first blow. “It’s time to teach you a lesson. You. Do. Not. Steal. From. Me.”

  Hit. Hit. Hit.

  I palm my head when other voices ring in my ears, disgusting voices mixing with the slap of flesh echoing in a room along with unbearable pain that travels through me and pulls me back in my past.

  You. Are. Nothing.

  Hit. Hit. Hit.

  You. Are. Just. A. Toy.

  Hit. Hit. Hit.

  A. Dog. Who. Has. An. Owner.

  Hit. Hit. Hit.

  Not matter how much I shake my head, the voices don't go away or the despair either. I can’t kill the men who hurt me… but I can kill this man and the thrill will be all the same.

  Almost in a trance, I snatch the knife from my waistband and stroll toward them with a single focus in mind, all while the man continues to deliver blows, unaware of my presence.

  He probably gets off on it, enjoying the misery the kid is experiencing under his power.

  Puffs of air cloud over me as my heavy breathing fills the night. My heart is pumping so much; the adrenaline sinking into me almost awakens me anew, while the thrill that is about to be known to me almost wobbles my knees.

  Pleasure. There will be so much pleasure.

  And then there is the moment I stab the knife into his neck and he cries out, stopping the beating, but I pull out the knife and stab it again in his artery, enjoying how the blood pours from the wound.

  He stumbles back, swinging to my side and shouting, “The fuck?” He waits to aim at me, but I duck my head and stab him in the stomach.

  I don’t know what I’m doing or what might kill him, but the more stab wounds… the better my chances are.

  Blocking away the outside world, I stab him over and over again, the blood dripping on the snow freezing, the red color staining the pristine white around us. The kid is no longer there, having already ran away.

  Good thinking.

  The anger disappears from me, leaving calmness as I stab the man until he finally falls on his knees, the blood pouring from so many holes it’s hard to detect which one affects him more. Finally, with his hollow gaze looking my way, his face hits the ground while a pool of blood spreads under him.

  All while the snow drifts softly down on us.

  Dead. He is dead.

  And for a brief second… there is silence in my head.

  “I’m not a toy. I’m not nothing. I don’t have an owner,” I whisper, kicking his dead body for good measure, but then all my strength leaves me, exhaustion rushes through me, and I sit on the ground, watching my bloody hands that tremble so much.

  And in this, memories vanish and only the present remains, cold sinking into my every bone while I’m horrified at what I’ve done.

  I killed someone.

  Took his life with no regard, thinking only about myself just like all those monsters from my past.

  Hiding my head between my knees, I rock back and forth, even though I know I should run for dear life.

  If anyone sees me, they will take me to prison, and my life will be over forever. You can run away from madness once
, twice, but not three times.

  Even my cruel life, fate is not that kind.

  “I’m not a toy,” I whisper again, wanting to justify to the good and innocent part of me that still exists that I’m not a ruthless murderer. “I’m not.”

  “You are not.” A deep voice coming from above me freezes me on the spot, and the first thing I notice are the expensive leather shoes along with the suit pants.

  Clothes all these men always wear.

  I scoot back, wanting to run away, but the knife pressed to my neck stops me, and only then do I realize it’s a long cane with a metal tip.

  I’ve never seen anything like this before.

  “Ah, not so fast. Not after all this mess.” He points with his hand at the dead guy. “You don’t think you can just take off, do you?” My heart almost stops when I finally decide to raise my head and meet his stare, only to blink at the amusement flashing in the clear blue eyes.

  Amusement with the deadly warning that sends chills down my spine that have nothing to do with the winter around me.

  The man must be older than me by about ten years.

  Everything about him screams power and domination, a man who is used to getting his way. It’s easy for me to recognize such men, because I lived with them my whole life.

  You don't think you can just take off.

  Then it means he wants something from me. I heard there are such assholes on the streets too, roaming around for pretty boys to sell their asses for anyone who is willing. One of the reasons I made additional cuts to my neck, hoping that my imperfections will keep them away from me.

  The familiar anger is back, and before I know it, I jump up, repeating, “I’m not a toy!” I lunge to stab my knife into him, only to be flung back and fall on my ass when he easily blocks my movements then looms above me.

  “You have spirit, but that’s all you have.” His cane trails over me, and then he presses it between my eyes while I watch him in fear, because now I’m at his complete mercy. “Brave as fuck to kill Elvin.” He throws a look at the man, fury flashing in his face for a second, but it’s quickly replaced by indifference. “Not smart enough to do it in the dark and without a witness.” He clacks his tongue. “Not to mention all the mess.”

  “Please let me go.” Every word tastes like acid, because I gave myself my word to never beg again.

  Survive. Survive till you can beat them.

  The man shakes his head. “No, I can’t do that.”

  “Please, he hurt that boy.” Maybe I’m wrong about him, and if I justify my actions, the man will understand and let me go. I have to use everything in my power to get away, because I won’t survive being with him.

  I just know it.

  His brand of darkness will be the death of me.

  “Today, you have justification for your kill. Tomorrow, you won’t.” He takes out a cigarette and places it in his mouth before reaching for a lighter and taking a greedy draw. “And before you know it, you’ll be roaming around the dark alleys killing anyone who so much as breathes wrong. And you’ll be so vicious, leaving traces behind that will endanger all my protégés.” I just stare at him, confused with all he says.

  Everything inside me rebels at his words. I’ll never take the life of an innocent, but then the memory of how I didn’t even think about consequences slams into me.

  I just wanted to kill. I'm not sure anything or anyone would have been able to stop me.

  “I will not do it again.”

  The man chuckles, finding it amusing. “You will. Over and over again. The craving is there, and you fed it. Now it will demand to be fed all the time. Such is the way of this life.” He exhales more smoke before announcing, “This is getting boring. You are coming with me.”

  “Why?”

  “You protected the boy, and that's your saving grace.” He kicks Elvin then steps on his skull, and it cracks under his foot. “You killed him on the first try. Impressive. However, you are reckless. I will teach you how to channel those desires in the right way.”

  On that day, I met Lachlan Scott, a man who forever changed my life.

  A ruthless serial killer and the underground king of New York.

  Callista

  The door bounces off the wall when Arson kicks it open and then shuts it loudly, his grip on me tightening as he drags me inside. I almost stumble on the way, and Ares jumps around us, barking loudly.

  He proceeds to pull me upstairs while snapping at Ares, “Down.” The dog collapses back on his bed, sighing heavily.

  I'm still trying to understand what the point is of having a dog if it just lounges inside the house!

  “Let go of me,” I say, but I might as well have spoken to a wall for all the attention he is giving me. “Arson!” I shout, but he doesn’t listen, continuing to take us upstairs with our shoes clicking loudly, only adding to the thumping of my heart that is beating like crazy.

  We finally end up in our room where he throws me inside, and I sway a little, but he catches me in time—or rather grabs the front of my dress before ripping it in two.

  What’s left of the silky gown falls to my feet, leaving me standing in nothing but nude panties and heels. And then I’m dragged into the bathroom where he pushes me into the shower stall, against the wall as he turns on the shower. Instantly, warm water cascades down on us, soaking us from head to toe.

  Removing my hair from my face, I hiss, “What are you doing? You’re acting crazy!” What’s the matter with him anyway?

  He wraps his hand around my neck, his fingers digging into my skin, and I gasp when he pushes his pelvis into me, trapping me between his muscled chest and the wall while he leans closer. His husky voice washes over me like the softest of ropes that’s about to deprive me of oxygen any minute now. “Who is he to you?” I don’t miss the warning lacing his tone, indicating to me that I better give him a satisfying answer or there will be hell to pay for this.

  “We grew up together.” I gasp when the fingers dig deeper into my skin, so I elaborate. “He was in ‘heaven’ with me until he ran away. He is the one who told me the truth about Pastor.”

  A beat passes before he asks, “The friend who you waited for?” So he remembers something I shared with him.

  “Yes. That’s Caspian.”

  He pushes me harder, my back slamming on the tile indicating to me he doesn’t much like this information. “That doesn’t answer my question.” My brows furrow, but then his grip tightens, making it almost impossible to breathe for a fraction of a second before it loosens. “Who is he to you? Is he your Caspian?” His silver pools flash dangerously, promising me retribution if I say yes, but I’ve had enough of this.

  Snatching his hands from me, and to my surprise he lets go easily, I lift my chin in defiance. “A friend! A friend and that’s it. Or weren’t you the one who took my virginity in that room out there?” This whole jealousy thing is ridiculous!

  He spins us around, so we are now standing directly under the spray. I clench his shirt so hard, because I’m afraid I might slip in these damned heels.

  “I want to wash it all away.” He trails his hand from my cheek to my neck and then shoulder, his touch almost leaving imprints on me. “I hate that he touched you. Wants you. Thinks you belong to him, when you are mine.” His other hand fists my hair, tilting my head back while he whispers above my lips, “Mine. Aren’t you?”

  “Only yours,” I say, our lips brushing against each other, and then he presses his thumb on my chin, opening my mouth wider and allowing the water to trickle in before he dives inside, giving me an open-mouth kiss that’s hot, deep, and claiming, leaving no doubt he is the man who consumes my every thought and breath.

  My nails dig into his chest as he rocks us a little, delving deeper, exploring my mouth gently yet insistently, while keeping a strong grip on me. I moan into his mouth, but he swallows it, continuing his assault on me while my whole body buzzes with anticipation and need.

  Need only he is capable of soothi
ng, so shouldn’t he start doing it?

  Sliding my hands up, I’m about to circle his neck and press myself closer to him, not wanting to leave even an inch of distance between us, when he pushes me away, my back hitting the wall while he plasters a hand on either side of my head. Our breathing mingles as his gray eyes scan my naked body, roaming their gaze over me and sending goose bumps through me along with a flash of heat that awakens every hair on my body and intensifies the craving within.

  “Arson,” I say with urgency, begging him to do something, but he continues to stare, not doing anything but standing there and studying me like his most beloved object.

  And in a way, I am, not that it brings me any happiness in this current moment.

  “You are the most beautiful woman in the world. My woman.” He leans forward, dipping a little as his teeth trap my nipple, a shot of electricity zapping through me while a moan slips past my lips. He licks the tip of it quickly, removing the sting before his mouth wraps around my nipple, sucking it hard. I raise my hand to lace my fingers in his hair and press him to me so he won’t stop, but he catches the hand before I can make my move.

  He squeezes the fingers and then lowers them to my heated core and orders, “Prepare my pussy for me and feed me your second breast.” Too lost to do anything but listen to his command, I’m willing to do almost anything as long as it gives me relief. I dip my fingers inside myself, another moan erupting from me, and then push my other breast toward Arson’s mouth, silently begging him to take it.

  He doesn’t take long before sucking on it, his tongue licking it from side to side and then pressing on it. The pleasure consuming me is almost too much to take. Every touch of his lips, tongue, his strong body against me, the heat rising from the water… combined with my fingers inside me stoke desire higher and higher. I close my eyes, arching my back to give him better access to me.

  “Arson,” I say again, my fingers working inside me. I feel my wetness from all his ministrations and groan. My skin feels like it’s stretched so tight that I’ll break any moment now from the pleasure.

  Just one more bite and lick, the brush of my finger…

  He doesn’t let me chase the invisible chain dragging me toward endless pleasure; instead, he lets go of my nipple with a loud pop and snatches my hand to my groan of protest. “Please, stop torturing me.”