Accompanying Song:

 

 

 

Meeting Room, Genesis. Providence, Rhode Island – May 8th, 2013, noon

 

 

Arthur twirls the glass of Cognac in his hands. “Have you made any progress?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I have,” I say, putting down my own glass. Sweat trickles down my back, but I try to keep my composure.

“I would like to see it.”

“You want proof?” I frown, cocking my head. “Since when do we show proof to each other?”

“Since I don’t trust you anymore,” Hubert interjects.

“Since when did you ever trust me?” I spit.

“Come now,” Arthur says. “No need to start arguing. Just show us what you have.”

Ignoring Hubert’s scowl, I get up from my chair and grab the laptop from my suitcase, connecting it to the big screen that projects everything onto the front wall, just above the fireplace. I open a file and skip to the part I think is best. Swallowing, I click play, never taking my eyes off the screen.

“Hmmm …” Arthur mumbles as he watches. “Is that her?”

“Yes.”

“And this is …?” Lewis asks.

“Room eighty-seven.”

“Oh … that one.” Arthur grins. “I like that one.”

“I see you’ve applied everything that was in the book. Good job.” Arthur clears his throat. “I think we’ve seen enough.”

I immediately pull the plug from the laptop that connected it to the screen. They don’t need to see any more. It’s enough to prove my point.

“I would’ve liked to see some more action, though,” Hubert says.

“Come now, let the boy complete his own assignment,” Lewis says.

“I still don’t believe he carried it out.”

“You saw her,” I snap. “I’m not lying. What more do you want from me?”

“Stop, enough bickering for today,” Arthur says. “Hubert, cut Sebastian some slack. You know he’s just a beginner. It’s okay if it takes him longer. You remember what it was like to start.”

“I loved it!” Hubert says.

“I never said I didn’t,” I say, to make myself less of a target.

“See? He likes it.” Arthur frowns. “Stop bothering him. We should all just focus on our own tasks.”

“I, for one, can’t wait to complete this book,” Lewis says, smiling broadly at a book he’s clutching like some kind of treasure. “I have another appointment with Mr. X tomorrow.”

“You’re letting him do all the work?” Hubert asks.

“Oh, sod it; I’m too old to lift a finger.” Lewis chuckles. “Besides, better leave the dirty work to the young ones like yourself.”

“Hey!” Hubert scowls. “I’ll be damned if I’d ever clean up your filth.”

“Gentlemen …” Arthur warns them.

Hubert sighs as he gets up from his chair. “Well, I’m out of here.”

“Right. Enough talking. Gentlemen … you all have your books?” Arthur says.

They all show their books, holding them in front of their bodies to show it to each other. We all nod. Then we proceed to the exit. This is how it always goes. Nobody leaves this room without a book, and nobody leaves Genesis without giving up their life.

I get into the elevator, anxiously waiting until it reaches the lowest floor before running out of the library. I open the door to the limo that’s parked out front and eagerly climb inside. She’s still there—waiting for me. It still surprises me to this day, even though I know she can’t go anywhere. It’s almost as if I’m expecting her to leave. I know she wants to, but I won’t allow it. Not yet, anyway.

A cuff tightly secures her left hand to the door. She lets out a puff of air as I close the door and settle in my seat.

“How was it?”

“How was what?”

“Your meeting.”

“Oh, right.” I pull my collar, trying to shake the uneasy feeling I have. “Good. Good …”

“Sounds like it wasn’t so great.”

I sigh. “I don’t want to talk about it.” I knock on the glass between the driver and us so that he’ll start the car and drive back home. I can’t wait to get back.

“Right, and that’s supposed to make me stop questioning what the hell it is you do up there?”

“It’s a library. I work there.”

“And you have meetings with important men you want me to know nothing about.”

“I told you, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, I do. If I’m to be your captive forever, you could at least let me know what it is that you’re doing. Like you said ‘I’d like to get to know you’.”

“I said no!” I yell.

She jolts up in her seat, back against the window, her eyes big and frightened.

I let out another sigh and shake my head. “I’m sorry, Miss Carrigan, I do not mean to lash out to you. But please, do not try to test my patience. I have zero tolerance.”

“I can see that,” she says. “Pity because I was genuinely interested.”

I smile at her. I’m not sure what she’s playing at, if she’s trying something on me or if she speaks the truth. However, she is right. In order to trust me, she needs to see more about me.

“Tell you what. I’ll show you around the rooms.”

“Rooms?”

“Yes … rooms …”

“Where?”

“You’ll see.” I smile devilishly at her as she squints her eyes, too curious to resist coming with me. It means it’ll be easier to escort her from the car back into the building if escaping isn’t the only thing on her mind. She’ll be interested in what I can show her. Maybe, if I show her enough about myself, she’ll learn to completely obey me … in time. One step at a time.

Her eyes drift off, her hands folded over her lap, delicately patting down the dress. She’s been wearing a different dress every day since she came to live with me. It’s one of my requirements, and I must say that she looks pretty in them. Like a lady with pride. How she gazes out of the window, her head cocking, as she spots a bird flying above us to the left is enchanting. The simplest of things consumes her. It’s a marvelous sight.

I pull my eyes away before they become too infatuated with her. I don’t know what it is that draws me to her. Her shattered heart and mind completely engross me. I want to pick her apart and learn about all the little things that make her who she is. Discover all her nooks, all the sensitive spots on her body, all that which entices her. I crave to know the darkest corners of her mind, to find that which she fears, and bring it all out. I want to be the one putting all the pieces back together and make the clockwork tick again. Maybe it’s the fact that I can mold her that makes me so interested in her. After all … I’ve always taken a liking toward control, and in the chaotic world that is her home, it is exactly what she needs.

We are yin and yang. Opposite forces, attracting and repelling, but our connection is undeniable and strong.

As the car arrives at my building, I hop out of the car and walk to her side to unlock the cuff. I immediately put a band made of tiny metal rings around it and lock it around my wrist.

“What’s this?” she asks.

“My leash.”

She frowns. “Leash? You mean like a dog?”

“No … like a pet.” My lip curls up into a smile. “My beautiful fairy.” My hand lifts up to her face, and I grab a strand of her red hair, tucking it behind her ear. Her lip pulls and her eyebrow rises, but she doesn’t make a sound. I know she wants to protest, but I also know it’s wiser for her not to. She knows my limits, her boundaries. She’s learning quickly. “Don’t think of it as a leash. Think of it as an inseparable lifeline between us. I go where you go, and you go where I go. Always connected to the person who owns you.”

“You own me. I do not own you. There is a clear difference.”

I smile. “Oh, but you do, Miss Carrigan. You just don’t know it yet.” I tap on my chest, at the place my heart is at. “Here.”

She snorts. “I don’t believe it.”

“Why not? You’re a delightful woman, if you’re not trying to tear me apart because of what I did. You have to know that I stand by what I say; I might keep you a prisoner, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think you are attractive. Charming. Seductive.” The more words I add, the more her skin glows. “I care for those I call mine.”

“How many have there been?” she asks.

We walk into the building. “Not many. I don’t often bring women home. They don’t particularly enjoy the same kind of passion as I do.”

She laughs. “Go figure.”

“Are you laughing because you don’t want to believe you actually like my kind of sex, or because you’re ashamed of it?”

She frowns. “I am not.”

I raise an eyebrow as I push the button of the elevator. “Really? Because that flush on your face tells such a different story.”

The line between us moves, the slight tug vexing but oh so erotic. I love it when she pulls as if she can still retain her independence. She crosses her arms and pulls up her nose.

“Shall we go inside?” I ask holding out my hand. “Women first.”

“A gentleman to the outside world…” she mutters as she puts her foot forward.

I slap her ass as she enters the elevator, making her squeal. “A beast in the bedroom,” I add.

The annoyed look on her face is priceless as I stand beside her, watching the doors close. I press my floor’s button and wait patiently for the elevator to start moving. She tips forward on her feet, balancing between her toes and her heel, whistling a tune that’s familiar to me. Too familiar. The sound makes my skin crawl. My blood turns to rage.

Before I know it, my hand has her vice-gripped against the wall by her neck, her breaths short and heaving, as she suffocates under the pressure.

It’s the sound of death.