A tsunami of emotion washed over me. It smashed through the constructed walls that held me together and obliterated any strength or structure inside. The pain flooded me all at once; Darryl and his son, Jack, even my Mother. All the torment I carried rushed to the forefront after dealing with Marcus.

I held on until they left, but once that bolt locked them on the other side, the torrent of pain, guilt and anger crushed me from the inside out. I broke down and wailed in the corner of my cell.

“Olivia.”

Lucy’s calls barely came over my cries. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t answer her. The anguish had gripped me. All I could do was howl into my knees as I hugged them close. Years of hurt released in waves, and I had no control of it whatsoever.

“Olivia, are you okay?”

Marcus would never honour his commitment. Deep down, I’d always known that. Darryl gave up his life for nothing. When I heard his boy was gone, it removed any hope he didn’t die in vain. I killed him for no reason at all.

I’d plastered over the wound thinking it was locked away, but it gaped at his loaded words and ripped open the other scars right along with it.

It was my own shame and self-hatred that overwhelmed me. My own self-pity at my life and choices. All the bad karma that haunted me and put me in this goddamn hole.

I tried to catch my breath. Tried to pull myself together before I cracked. The more I fought, the harder the cries punctured my chest and choked in my throat.

“Olivia.”

The metallic clunk of the door lock rattled through me and yanked my heart to my knees.

No, no, no! Not now.

Within seconds, the bars to my cell opened. Aaron dropped to the floor and pulled me towards him. The anger I harboured now focused on him. I lashed out and landed blind blows in fury. He grappled with my arms and caught my wrists as I tried to fight; screaming at him between anguished howls.

He caught my shoulders and pressed me into his chest. As soon as his arms encased me, the anger dissolved.

His embrace gave me the freedom to cry afresh within a security I hadn’t felt in a long time. I buried my face into the warmth and gripped him like I would never let him go.

I held back nothing. All the grief gushed to the surface with a renewed conviction. It channelled from the deepest recesses of the box which had locked them away for so long.

Aaron pulled me tighter as my muffled cries increased, drawing me closer with each exhale. Wrapping me in a calm shroud of safety and warmth. He whispered gentle reassurances over and over that I felt more than I could hear.

“I’m here. You’re safe. I’ve got you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

My cries faded to sobs. As the overbearing grief subsided, a lightness took its place. Like a heavy, black cloud had been lifted from within.

He stroked my back and repeated the same whispers. They didn’t sound as if they were empty consolations. It sounded like he meant every word. I needed to hear them. He may have taken me, locked me up and beaten me, but at this point in time, he was the only one I wanted to be near.

His hand dropped from my back and I squeezed him tighter, afraid he would let me go.

“It’s okay. I just want to take this damn collar off you.”

I relaxed with a ragged sigh and he reached into his pocket for the key. He brushed my hair aside, popped the lock and let the chain catch the collar as it pulled up against the wall. I tensed against the noise.

He rubbed my neck and stroked my face till I relaxed under his touch. It was so gentle and loving. It surprised me he was capable of such tenderness.

Leaning into his hand, I lifted my head and looked at him. In the gloom of the dingy cell, shadows cast on his face and deepened his rugged features. The sight of him sparked a glow in my heart which fluttered through my chest. He gave me a soft smile, but there was a sadness in his eyes I hadn’t seen before.

“Are you okay?” My voice cracked through my heavy breaths.

His eyes widened with his smile. “Am I okay?” His fingers encased my face, and he wiped the tears from my cheeks. “I should ask you that question.”

“I asked first.”

His eyes closed, and he chewed his lip before looking back at me. “Just worried about you.”

Something had changed, I could see it in his expression. The way he looked at me held a conflict I didn’t dare ask about. I wasn’t sure if I didn’t want to ruin this moment, or if I didn’t want to know the answer. “I’m alright.”

His eyebrows raised. “Looks that way.”

“It’s nothing.”

He opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it. He didn’t want to press me either.

“Okay.” He smiled at me, but it didn’t reach his eyes. There was still warmth, but whatever burden he now carried had taken the glint from behind them. “You need a drink. I know I do.”

I smiled back and nodded. “It wouldn’t go unappreciated.”

He raised up and lifted me to my feet. His eyes darted across my face as he held me there.

Why was he being so gentle with me? Surely, he’d had women crying down here before.

With a deep breath, he dropped his gaze and stepped back, gesturing to the open bars. “After you.”

The warmth and security left with him, leaving behind a bleak emptiness that ached to be comforted. I wanted nothing more than to step back in to his arms, but the moment had passed.

He was still my captor, the reason I was here. However much he showed me kindness, he was not to be trusted. Neither were my emotions. The vulnerability was a passing blip. It wouldn’t be long before I was my old self, facing my demons alone.

Lucy was pressed up against the bars. A worried line creasing the soft, unblemished skin on her forehead. If I needed any reminder of what he was and what he’d done, I could look at her to see it.

“Are you okay?”

I nodded and gave her a weak smile. She was genuinely concerned. Even after today—meeting the guy who would probably buy her and take her into unknown horrors—she was still more occupied with someone else’s feelings over her own. A true innocent heart if ever I’d known one.

I didn’t deserve her concern.

She shrank back as soon as she saw Aaron coming out of the cell. “I’m sorry, Sir. I just…”

“It’s okay, Lucy, I know. It’s fine. I’ll be back down to see you soon.”

She nodded and eased forward to the bars. “Yes, Sir. Thank you.”

His hand rested on my back as he led me past Lucy’s cell and over to the door. I climbed the stairs and up into the kitchen. The afternoon sun hurt my eyes as it glared through the bare windows. It wouldn’t be long before it set. I hadn’t realised it was so late. He locked the door behind me, walked over to a cupboard and took out two glasses as I pulled out the chair to sit.

“No, through here instead. It’s more comfortable.”

He walked out into the hallway and I followed him to the front room at the left of the house. Inside, sat two well worn leather chairs with a tattered and marked wooden coffee table in the middle. Three glasses sat on top next to two bottles of scotch.

“Already been at it?” He looked at me and I nodded to the glasses on the table.

“Yeah. It’s customary at these… meetings.” He gestured to the chair by the window. “Take a seat.”

I walked over and sat while he placed the fresh glasses down and cleared the others. He took them out the door with a bottle.

“You’re leaving me alone?” I shouted.

He called from beyond the wall. “I’m only going in the kitchen. Doubt you’d get far in that time.”

I picked up the bottle he’d left and poured the glasses, giving myself a more than generous helping. Replacing the cap, I grabbed my glass and knocked it back in large gulps. The woody taste was strong but smooth. By the time I’d finished, he was standing in the doorway with a soft smile lighting his beautiful face.

“Watch that stuff. It’ll sneak up on you.”

I glanced into the empty glass. “Don’t worry, I can probably drink you under the table.”

“I don’t doubt it for a second.”

He walked over, picked up the other glass and took a seat in the chair next to me. I noticed the bookcase to his side filled with well worn reference texts. Everything ranging from psychology, to art, to history. “You read?”

He followed my gaze to the bookcase, then turned back. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“Freud?”

“Why not? He is the father of psychology.”

I gave him a wry smile. “Yeah, he also had some pretty strong ideas about sexuality and libido.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I didn’t say I applied to his school of thought. I’m more of a Jung fan myself.”

Knocking back his scotch, he placed it on the table and picked up the bottle to refill our glasses, giving me a more sensible measure this time. I sat back in the chair and swirled the contents of my glass, watching the brown liquid curl up the sides as it released its rich, heady odour.

“Something on your mind?”

I shook my head. “It’s empty at the moment, a known after effect of hysteria.”

He smiled at the reference then looked into his own glass. “You don’t have to tell me anything, but I have to ask.” He shifted in his seat as if the thought made him uncomfortable. Then turned to face me and sighed. “Whose Darryl?”

I closed my eyes at the mention of his name, willing the emotions not to resurface. The usual pang of guilt dropped in my gut, but the overwhelming pain had gone, or at least re-submerged. I’d used up all my emotional reserves for the day. I opened my eyes and stared at him. “You don’t know?”

“I wouldn’t be asking if I did. Marcus fobbed me off with one of his non-answers, twice.”

“I thought you were partners. Why wouldn’t he tell you?”

“Only on this side of the business. Marcus is into a lot of shit I’m not involved or interested in. He only tells me what’s relevant. I usually prefer to keep it that way, too.”

“You don’t know what he’s planning to do with my father?”

He let out a surprised huff. “Honestly, I really don’t. Only that I needed to meet with you. Then arrange to pick you up. He told me the day before we met. I knew it was to get back at your father, and that taking you was the way he’d get him out from under the rock, so to speak.”

“Why not my sister?”

He cleared his throat. “That was my choice.”

“I was more profitable?”

A smile curled, and a spark returned to his eyes. “That, and other reasons.”

“Do I wanna know?”

“Probably not.” He paused and scanned the room before turning back, holding my eyes with a mischievous stare. “You intrigue me. I’ve never met a girl with an attitude like yours before. You’re not afraid of me. I… wanted to break you.”

“You wanted? So you don’t anymore?”

The spark left his eyes, and he looked away. “Why has this turned around to me?”

“Answer the question.”

His eyebrows raised as he glared back, and I knew I was pushing my luck. He was about to go into control mode, so I upped my insistence before he could speak. “Answer the fucking question, Aaron.”

His jaw dropped with amused disbelief. He gave in and shook his head. “No, I don’t. Not like that. I like your spirit, you wouldn’t be the same without it.”

I held his eyes and tried to read the sadness which laid behind the half-smile. Maybe he didn’t want to palm me off to the highest bidder now? He told that guy I wasn’t for sale. I thought back to what Marcus had said right at the beginning: I can see why he likes you.

What did that mean for me? For the both of us? “You may not want to, but are you going to break me?”

He closed his eyes and dropped his head. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“I have to.”

“Why?”

Conflict had creased his brow when he looked up. “It’s what needs to be done.”

“That isn’t an answer.”

“That’s the only answer.”

Sitting back in the chair, I studied him. He was skirting around the truth. There was something he wasn’t telling me. “So, you are going to sell me?”

“Yes.”

“Then why did you tell that guy I wasn’t for sale?”

He shifted in his seat, tilted his head back and sighed; pausing before looking back at me with a straight expression. “Because he needed to take Lucy. You weren’t suitable for him.”

I narrowed my eyes as I searched his face for the answer. His glare locked into place for way too long. He was lying. “That isn’t it.”

He cocked an eyebrow and shook his head. “Isn’t it?”

“No.”

A smile curled the edges of his full lips. “I suppose you’re going to tell me what it is?”

“You like me. I don’t think you want to sell me at all.”

He laughed. “I’ve just told you I was.”

“Wanting to and having to are two different things. You’re being made to. Marcus has more of a hand in this than you’re willing to admit. Are you really so under his thumb?”

His jaw clicked as he clenched his teeth. “I may have grown fond of your attitude, but it doesn’t mean I won’t put you in your place. Don’t push me.”

“Why not? Isn’t that what you like? You like my attitude because it gives you a reason to hurt me.”

He placed his glass on the table and glared. “Olivia. I’ve given you fair warning.”

“Why all this nice bullshit? It’s not you. You will try to break me. You’re going to hurt me, and you’ll enjoy every minute of it. Go on then, do it. I’d rather know where I stand without all this pussy footing about.”

He dived for me, grabbed my arm and yanked me to the floor. The glass rolled out of my hand as I landed heavy on my back. He straddled my waist and squeezed his hands around my neck.

“You’re right. I want to hurt you. The funny thing is, you want it as much as I do.”

He increased his grip and lowered inches from my face as I gasped against the crush on my trachea.

“You want to be punished, but you don’t realise how much I can and will hurt you. Are you sure you want to find out?”

My heart pounded against my ribs as I struggled in a breath. “Yes.”

A sinister edge darkened his eyes as he lowered closer and brushed his lips against my cheek. “Let’s see how far you can go.”