Chapter Six
“I want to show you something.” Abe moved forward and dropped to his haunches before her to undo the lock that kept her hostage at the wall. With his hand holding the end of the chain, he stood and turned from her. She glanced at the door, but she had to stay with the act of caring for him. If she wanted to gain his trust so that he let her roam freely, then she had to continue to play the part. Without thinking, she reached out and took hold of his hand that was still wrapped in the rag. He stopped and looked down at where she held him, and then lifted his gaze to her.
“Your acting skills aren’t that good, Bethany, but I admire your strength.”
She let go of him as if he had burned her, but wasn’t going to be intimidated by HIS knowledge that this was a farce, and told herself to continue to play the part. He turned back around and tugged on the chain until she was forced to follow. He led her into the room that she had slept in and pointed to the bed. But he didn’t drop the chain, and instead tethered it to the wall once more.
“I hope one day soon I’ll be able to trust you, Bethany.” He looked at her over his shoulder for a second, and then made his way to the closet.
She was curious what he wanted to show her, but when he pulled out a suitcase—the Louis Vuitton suitcase her father had given her for her birthday last year—her blood ran cold. He tossed it onto the ground before her and bent down to unlatch it. And when he opened it she already knew what she would find. Her clothes were neatly folded on the inside of that suitcase, staring at her, taunting her, and telling her that no one would come for her. More tears spilled from her eyes and she looked up at him. “What have you done?” Of course she knew, and her question wasn’t literal, but she wanted to hear him say it.
“You know what I’ve done. I’ve ensured that your family will think you have deserted your duties to marry the suitor your father has chosen.”
She shook her head and ran the backs of her hands over her cheeks, brushing the wetness away. “You said you were hoping they would come for me.” What she didn’t say was that a part of her wanted that, but there was a stronger part that hated the idea. If someone did come for her that would mean she was a prisoner somewhere else.
“What I told you was that you were mine, and I wasn’t going to let anyone take you away.” He was by the wall with his arms crossed and a stoic look on his face. “I’m sure they have notified the authorities by now, and I have no doubt they will come and try to find you. But Bethany, if they think you left of your own free will then they will be more inclined to disown you rather than waste resources trying to locate a deserter.” He said it like he was so sure her father and mother would just forget about her. But what was the saddest part of all of this was she knew that was the truth.
She looked at her clothes once more and closed her eyes. Her dad was a strict man who thought highly of how people saw him or his family, and if everyone in his circle thought she had run away because she didn’t want to hold up her “duties” then she would be as good as shunned. “But you forgot about my bank account. Without taking money out they will know I didn’t leave.” A sick feeling settled inside of her when he didn’t respond. “You took care of that, too?”
“Bethany, I have secured every possible way to ensure that you’re mine. If someone does find out where we are, we will be long gone from this place.” He stayed by the wall, unmoving, and sounding unsympathetic.
“How do I know you’re telling the truth? You could be lying to ensure that I cooperate.”
He shrugged. “Yes, I very well could be lying, but the end result is still the same.”
“Yes I suppose it is.” And it was. She was stuck here with him, and he could and would do whatever he wanted to her.
“Now maybe you will understand what I want from you.”
She fucking knew what he wanted. He wanted her total and absolute surrender, and although she still had a little bit of life and hope inside, she also saw that suitcase as a finality of her situation. Hopelessness was not something she wanted to let fester inside of her, but it was hard to not think of his new life as the ending of her old one. Or maybe it was the beginning of her new life? Either way she had to be a fighter or someone who gave in to this man.
He took a step closer, and then another one, and soon he stood right in front of her. But at the moment she had no fight left in her. He reached out, cupped her cheek in a touch that was painfully gentle, and leaned down so they were nose-to-nose. “I’ll let you change into something that is more familiar and comfortable.” He turned and left her alone in the room, and all she could do was stare at the suitcase.
Inside were clothes that had been bought with her father’s money, skirts and blouses, pants and undergarments that were worth more altogether than most people made annually. She slipped off the bed and sat on her knees right in front of the bag. Reaching inside and grabbing out an Egyptian spun-silk blouse, she ran the butter-smooth material between her fingers. She had always loved this shirt, loved how it felt on her skin, but at the same time hated the fact that her father had picked it out. She tossed it aside and grabbed another shirt, this one a cashmere sweater that her mother had insisted she wear for a dinner date she had gone on with Steven. It was one of the first arranged dates her mother and father had set up. She threw it to the side where the other shirt lay. Her emotions were running high with hate, anger, fear, and that lingering arousal for Abe. Screaming out, she tore through the rest of the clothes in a frenzy of motion. Pants and skirts went left and right, blouses and underwear lay in tattered remains on the bed behind her and near the door.
When there was nothing left, she sat there panting, wanting nothing more than to continue to tear through all of them. Seeing all the expensive and lavish items, smelling her father and mother’s money surrounding them, made her see how shallow and heartless her life really was. This time when she cried she did it because she felt a freedom inside her. It filled her soul and then exploded out of every inch of her body. She threw her head back and screamed again, so pissed now at everything that had happened in her life, how she had rolled over and accepted it all, and how she wanted to hurt someone. Standing and looking around the room as violence filled her, she saw the lamp on the table, and quickly moved toward it. Once in her hand she was about to throw it against the wall when the bedroom door opened and Abe stood there staring at her with a smug fucking look on his face.
“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.