He left some time after midnight and had yet to come back.

I figured out the door was locked later that night. There was nothing I could do but pace around the room, wondering what was going on.

I couldn’t pinpoint what was happening, but when the sun came up, there was a subtle shift in the air. The dead silence had been replaced with the dogs occasionally barking, a lawn mower running, and doors opening and closing. It was as if the house had been at a standstill and was suddenly animated again.

Yet, there was no sign of Mason.

Pulling the heavy drapes to the side, I stared out the arched window. All I saw was a meticulously landscaped yard surrounded by tall trees. Where in Redwood were there houses of this size with so much land?

Nowhere.

So, where the hell was I?

Scrubbing a hand over my face, I walked to the bed and sat down. The whole situation was still surreal. I still had zero answers. All I’d figured out thus far was that Mason decapitated people for fun and used sex as a weapon.

If that’s what it was. I always told him to stop, but that’s not actually what I wanted. There was something about being hurt by him I secretly enjoyed.

Damn, I was a fucked up individual. And the blonde he killed? Once she was dead, I was more horrified that I wasn’t horrified, justifying it by knowing there was nothing I could do to save her.

I hated this feeling of being torn right down the middle. The second our eyes met, Mason infected me like an airborne pathogen. Whatever was manifesting between us was dangerous. I wanted him, but I was supposed to hate him.

That’s what was expected, right? None of the girls in the documentaries felt more at home with the man holding them captive than they had with their families.

Stop comparing yourself to other girls. You aren’t like other girls.

Pushing off the bed, I wandered into the large closet. Staring at my reflection in the large mirror hanging on the wall, the bruises Mason left behind were fading, and aside from that, I didn’t look much different than I had before he took me.

All the clothes surrounding me seemed to have been handpicked by him specifically. I hated the colors red and yellow; my mother only bought me clothes in those spectrums. There wasn’t a hint of them anywhere, hung up or on a shelf.

He knew so much about me it should have been unnerving, but I considered it endearing that he put so much effort into making me comfortable.

Why can’t you just accept him?

“He’s a murderer,” I mumbled, running my fingers through my hair.

He’s special.

Walking back into the room, I eyed the white roses on the fireplace mantle.

The pretty white flower was a constant reminder that it was him who thought about me often enough to load up my hospital room with flowers and balloons. Enough that I always got a delivery on the days I felt the worst.

Sure, it could be considered insignificant and meaningless to some, but it mattered to me. A man that took the time to have that done couldn’t be all bad.

The law of attraction was clearly at work, because not a second later the door swung open and I was staring at Mason. He stood in the doorway, holding a giant white bag, smirking when I glared.

“Did you miss me?”

“No,” I quickly responded, hoping my voice didn’t convey the truth. His growing smile told me he wasn’t fooled. I didn’t miss him exactly, but I wasn’t ashamed to admit that I loved not being alone.

Since he took me, he never left me for long. He stepped into the room with a serious expression replacing his grin.

“I’m sorry I locked you away.”

“I’ve always been locked away,” I huffed, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

“Well, that’s about to change. You’re too pretty to be in a cage. I’m going to make sure you live.”

Watching him walk to the bed and dump the contents of his bag, I knew I’d heard that line before.

“You’re too pretty to be in a cage. I’m going to make sure you live.”

 

If you trusted yourself, you would have figured this out a long time ago.

“You said I didn’t know you!” I unselfconsciously began to rub my chest, something I did when I was upset. My brain was trying to click the pieces together, he was too familiar. Was this the man that saved my life?

“Katie, you don’t know me. You barely remember me. I’ve been trying to fuck some sense into you since you got here. If you remember anything at all from now on, it’s going to be my cock.”

“I don’t understand. What does that even mean?”

“We can talk about it later; I need you to get ready for dinner.”

“You say that a lot, Mason. I think you’re full of shit.” I regretted the words as soon as I said them. The change in his demeanor was instant.

It was beyond frustrating not knowing how to deal with him. He was changing everything; he was changing me so rapidly, in such a short window of time, it was morally terrifying.

“I may be a lot of things, but a liar has never been one of them, and full of shit is another.”

His green eyes narrowed, pinning me to the wall. When he began rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, I looked around for some type of escape route.

I took one small step to the right, and that was as far as I got. He moved too quick for me to move much further, crushing me between him and the plaster. I stared up at him, my breath coming in little spurts.

Beg him to hurt you. You know it’s what you want.

Swallowing, I was almost prepared to listen and do just that, but Mason did it himself without me having to say a word.

“You test my patience to the limit. If you were anyone else, you’d be dead.” He grabbed my jaw, gripping it so hard it popped. Something that sounded between a grunt and a squeal got caught in my throat.

He crushed his mouth to mine, squeezing harder when I clamped down. Whimpering, I parted my lips, feeling his tongue skate across the roof of my mouth and intertwine with mine. The minty cinnamon flavor I loved teased my taste buds.

I loathed this new, constant ache between my thighs. And the fantasies in my mind where he overpowered me and made me do degrading things that made me cry. All the while, I silently begged him not to stop.

As he held me against the wall, it was like a switch flipped in my brain, and someone else took over. I bit down on his tongue, causing him to grunt and jerk away. When I attempted to shove him, he caught my wrists, pinning them to the wall by my sides.

He stole what air there was between us, chuckling softly into my hairline. After pressing a kiss to my forehead, he slightly pulled back to look at me.

“You like this,” he murmured.

Licking my lips, I tried to look away, feeling my face flame. I couldn’t admit the truth to myself or him. The voice in my head urged me to give in. Sometimes, I wished I could be more like that Katie. She spoke her mind and would have told him how I felt.

He let go of my wrists, bringing his hands up to cup my face.

“Give me permission to fuck and abuse you.” His voice was back to being gentle, just like his touch. I wanted this moment between us to never end. Why did the good things have to come with the bad?

Say yes.

“Okay.” Slowly nodding, I furrowed my brows in confusion when he stepped away. Embarrassment made me want to sink through the floor. What was I even doing?

Before I could think too hard about it, he was leaning back down to brush his lips across my cheek.

“After dinner. There’s something I need to show you.”

When he stepped back again, I saw the dark look in his eyes. I heard the promise in his tone. Part of me was excited; the other was mortified at what I had just done.