Chase

I feel elated and vicious at the same time.

Two emotions that can’t be more of a duality.

Yet they co-exist inside me … peacefully.

I was right.

This moment … it was everything.

A spectacle.

A magnificent, thundering explosion of clashing thoughts and needs.

It was all my doing … and now, it’s finally finished.

For a split second, I wonder what made it final. Was it her eyes? Her shivering body curled underneath mine? Her tears that kept flowing? Her sweet voice as she begged me to let her live?

Or maybe it was a culmination of all those things.

In any case, what’s done is done. Time can’t be turned back. The decision is final.

I know the truth now.

Still, I can’t stop holding her tight. I wish I never had to let go, but I know that moment has to come sometime. She won’t accept this for much longer.

So I take a deep breath and push her back. I smile, knowing what this means.

It’s done. It’s finally over.

I don’t know who won, but it doesn’t matter.

All that’s left now is to pick up the pieces and move on.

However, the moment I release her, her body slumps and falls to the ground. Did she faint because of the stress? She must have.

I quickly grasp her body and pull her toward me, so I can cradle her as I get up from the ground.

I carry her back all the way to the car where a sullen looking Brandon sits behind the wheel, waiting for me.

“Don’t,” I say when he opens his mouth. “I don’t want to hear it.”

The left side of his lips tips up as he shakes his head. “I can’t believe it. Really?”

“Like I said … it doesn’t matter. I know now.” I open the door and lay her down on the back seat. After I attach the seat belt, I bind her wrists and ankles with a few zip ties so she can’t break the windows when she wakes up. Then I get into the passenger’s seat and buckle up.

“And what’s next? What are you gonna do now, huh?” he asks, gripping the steering wheel casually with his hands.

I lick my lips and stare out into the sunset. It marks the beginning of a new chapter in my life … and hers. “Now, we go home.”

* * *

When we get to my place, she’s already awakened. She hasn’t spoken a word since we were still in the canyon, after I chased her and caught her. Her last words were pleas, but when I turn and look at her now, all I see is rage. Her whole body is tense, and she refuses to unclench her jaws.

I know she’s angry. She has every right to be.

Brandon drives the car into the parking lot while I take off the zip ties around her ankles and escort her to my home. She comes willingly, without a fuss. I don’t know why she’s not putting up much of a fight like she did before the chase.

It’s as if she’s lost a bit of the spark she had.

Like the knife … siphoned it out of her.

Made her meek and fearful.

I can tell when I bring her into a room. Her room.

The moment I release her, she immediately scurries to a corner as far away from me as she possibly can, where she sits down and pretends she doesn’t exist.

Frowning, I clutch the door and sigh.

I know what I’ve caused. It had to be done … but it came at a hefty price.

Her misery isn’t something I enjoy. Even though she’d probably never believe me if I told her.

I close the door and turn on the light. It only helps me, not her. She still shivers as I approach her slowly, trying not to scare her. I lean down in front of her and touch her skin. It’s soft and warm. But she immediately leans away, turning her head.

She doesn’t want my affection.

Of course not.

What am I thinking?

I let out another sigh and lower my head, closing my eyes.

I wish I could take her pain away, but I can’t. I caused it.

“I’m sorry,” I say, my voice softer than before. “That will never happen again.”

Her jaw clenches, but she doesn’t say a word. Even though I expected her to. Is she that scared of me?

Dammit.

If she hates me this much already, there’s no telling what she’ll do if she gets out of her bonds.

What if she lashes out? Or escapes? Or worse … reports me for doing all the things I did?

It would ruin me.

She may not have seen my face, but she knows my name. And she may be skilled enough to lead the police back to my home.

I can’t let it happen.

So I quickly get up and rummage through the drawer until I find what I’m looking for. A chain and collar … once used by one of the girls I had in my home who insisted on being my pet. I got rid of her the moment she started snooping around, but I kept the gear. I knew it might be useful one day … and I was right.

I lower myself to her level again and slide aside her hair. Her skin feels so soft and warm. Unlike mine.

She’s shivering as the collar locks into place.

I tuck the key into my pocket and stare at her for a few seconds.

She still hasn’t moved from her spot.

Hasn’t even responded to the fact that I collared her … and that I chained her to the bed.

I lean forward, tempted to remove it, but I stop myself before I do.

I can’t give in this easily.

I know it’s wrong, but what else can I do? The zip ties won’t last, and she’ll surely try to escape. Who knows what kind of trouble she might give me if she finds a way to get out.

She might be blind, but I know she has more guts than this. I could see it in the way she ran, how she fled for her life. She has spirit.

“What … what are you going to do with me?” she asks as I get up and walk away.

I stop in my tracks and glance at her over my shoulder.

She’s so beautiful. Too beautiful.

And I ruined it.

I ruined that pretty face. Stained it with tears that were not supposed to be there.

And for what? My own selfish needs.

I shake my head and rub my forehead. “I don’t … know yet.”

Then I quickly open the door and slam it shut before I say anything more stupid than what just came out of my mouth.

For a moment, I just stand there, overwhelmed by my own emotions.

I feel sick.

I never feel sick.

At least not like this.

Like I want to strangle myself. Slam myself into a window and just be done with it.

I need to get this need out of me. Need to rinse myself of the evil that’s settled in my blood.

Brandon is standing in the kitchen, casually sipping coffee and glaring at me from the corner of his eyes with that familiar look. That look that says I know what you’re thinking.

I hate that he knows me so well.

I cross my arms and raise a brow at him. “What?”

“Nothing.”

I roll my eyes. “Right.”

“Want some coffee?” he asks. “You look like you could use some.”

“No thanks,” I say, waving it away.

“So what are you going to do with her?” he asks.

Of course, he wants to know. He’s been dying to know ever since we got back to the car and drove home. The question has been lying on the tip of his tongue all this time, and now he’s finally found the right time to throw it out there.

Except I don’t know the fucking answer.

I sigh and walk to the kitchen too, pouring myself a glass of water, gulping it down in one go. “I’ll figure it out.”

I place it down on the countertop and grab my coat again.

“So what now? You’re just gonna leave her in there?”

“Yep,” I say, putting on my coat.

“Where are you going?”

I narrow my eyes. “Do you really have to ask?”

He puts down his cup. “Really? You’re gonna do that now?”

“Yes. I need to blow off some steam.”

“I thought you said you were done,” he says, following me to the door.

“No, I said I knew the truth now. I never said anything about being done forever.”

“What do you want me to do now?”

“Look after her,” I reply.

“What? No. You brought her back here. She’s your responsibility.”

I glance over my shoulder and growl, “I’m asking you politely, Brandon … do this for me.”

He swallows and takes a deep breath. “Fine. But don’t think I’m gonna clean up after you.”

Before he can say another word, I close the door behind me.

* * *

Syrena

Staring in the direction of the door, I sit and wait. With my hands bound, I can’t attempt to escape until my captor frees me. While I wait, all I can do is stand up and sit down. All while touching that … thing around my neck.

The metal feels cold but not too tight.

But I know what it is.

A collar.

I can feel the chain attached to it, and I already followed it all the way back to the origin. The ring at the foot of the bed. I’ve jerked it and twisted it with my mouth, but nothing I did could break it. So I directed my attention to another problem I need to solve.

Breaking out of here.

I’ve already tried using my teeth to open the windows and doors, but no luck. They’re tightly locked, and I presume they can’t be opened from the inside.

Which makes me wonder … is it on purpose? Did he always intend to keep someone here?

It must be … why else would he have this collar on hand?

Unless he was expecting me.

Or is this all just a coincidence?

Not that there’s any use thinking about things you can’t change.

I’m here; he’s out there. End of story.

I still wonder who he is, though, and what he wants from me. Why he chained me up and put zip ties around my wrists.

If there’s anything I know … there’s one thing men want most of all. And if that’s the case, will I be prepared for that, just so I can escape? Will he let me go if I give him what he wants?

Or do I have to fight?

Then again, the world out there is a cruel one, and the longer I think about it, the less I actually want to go back. No one would call the place I used to live in a proper home.

No, I promised myself back when I was still imprisoned in a cage by Graham that I would start a new life once I got out of there. One where I don’t have to service men and do their dirty work. One where I can just be … at peace.

I sigh and sit back down on the floor in the middle of the room again.

Right as I do, the door unlocks and then creaks. I suck in a breath and wait until the footsteps are audible. Then I slowly slide backward until my back hits the wall.

“Don’t be afraid …”

It’s a different voice. Not him.

Must be that Brandon guy.

It’s quiet for some time before he speaks up again. “The collar? Okay …”

He sounds surprised.

Strange.

“What do you want?” I ask.

“Nothing. I just came to check on you,” he says. His voice is much less commanding than Chase’s. “I brought you something to drink.”

I lean back as he approaches me, and I’m hesitant to even acknowledge his existence at this point. It could put me in more danger, and I don’t know what their end goal is. Why they’re keeping me.

All I know is that Chase … tried to kill me.

And then he didn’t.

Why?

It doesn’t make any sense.

He cried, and then he just hugged me.

He went from a calm and collected murderer to an erratic caregiver in a split second. What does it mean?

If only I could ask him myself. Then again, I might not get an answer I like.

But he did say he was sorry. I wonder why he felt the need to say it. It made me feel a little less … hunted.

“Here,” Brandon says, breaking my train of thought.

I don’t know what he’s trying to give to me, and I’m not sure I want to know.

“It’s tea,” he adds.

I still don’t reply.

“Oh,” he mumbles. “Right. He tied your hands.” He clears his throat. “Well, I can put it against your lips and then you can drink.”

When he does, the searing heat of the mug makes me hiss.

“Sorry,” he says, immediately pulling it away. “I guess that was stupid of me.”

As he gets up again, I say, “Wait.” When there’s no response, I add, “I’m thirsty.”

“I’ll get you some water instead.”

The door creaks and then closes, and I’m alone again. I’ve never felt so much solitude as I do now. The cage was different. I shared it with people … with Cage and Ella.

God. Just thinking about them makes me tear up.

Graham pulled me away from them, and I never even got to say goodbye.

How are they doing now? Are they still alive? What’s going to happen to them?

I wish I could send them something, anything, to let them know I’m okay.

At least, for now.

The door opens again, and my whole body tenses as Brandon sits down in front of me. “Here.”

A glass is placed against my lips, this time cold, and I let it sit there for a while even though he’s urging me to drink.

“Don’t worry … it’s not poisoned,” he says, laughing. “If we wanted to kill you, we would have. Trust me.”

How comforting. Not.

Still, I take a sip. The cold liquid feels too good not to. I’m so fucking thirsty that I gulp it down until the last drop.

“I’ll get you some more soon,” he says, and I can hear a hint of a smile as he blows out his breath. “Anyway, since you’re blind, I just wanted to let you know … there’s a bed to your right and a toilet to your far left. In case you need to use them.”

Interesting, but nothing I couldn’t have found out on my own. I don’t know what he wants from me. Does he want me to thank him? Fuck that.

It’s quiet for some time. Neither of us speak. I don’t know if I can trust him or Chase.

Anything I say can be used against me.

I’m a prisoner in a home of a man I don’t know, and nothing will stop him from doing whatever he wants to me.

I can’t make it easy for them.

“You don’t have to worry,” Brandon says, placing a hand on my knee.

I inch back, afraid.

“Don’t be scared. We won’t hurt you.”

“He already did,” I utter, barely able to say it because I’m choking up again.

“I know,” he says. “That’s why he’s left for now.”

Left us? Chase is gone?

“He needed to cool down.”

From what? Buying me? Hunting me? Keeping me?

Or all the above?

“But I know he’ll take good care of you,” he says.

“Who are you people, and what do you want from me?” I can’t stop myself. The words just spill out of me.

I can hear him smile again. The glass is placed on the floor. “Call me Brandon. I help out Chase sometimes with things that are … difficult.”

Difficult. Does he mean me?

“Why?”

“He and I go back a long time.” He snorts. “But anyway, what I want to say is … I don’t want anything from you, and I promise you I won’t hurt you,” he says. “But I want you to be careful around Chase.”

I suck in a breath.

Did he just tell me to be wary of his partner?

Are they even partners?

“He has a … temper that can get out of hand quickly.”

“And you?” I mumble.

“You don’t need to worry about me. I won’t be here long.”

Why? Where is he going?

“I just want to say … Chase isn’t a bad man. I know he won’t hurt you. If you do what he says.”

“I’m not someone’s puppet,” I growl back.

I don’t know where I find the sudden courage to speak up.

“I know. That’s why he … bought you,” he says. “To save you.”

I struggle not to snort. I doubt that’s true.

“He attacked me. With a knife,” I say, swallowing away the lump in my throat.

It’s quiet for a second.

“I know.”

A shiver runs up and down my spine.

The air in the room moves as he gets up and walks away.

When the door closes, I know he’s gone.