Loran

 

 

 

It's been three days. Three days since I proved to her that I know how to break her. Three days since I pushed her to overstep any limitations she may have thought she had.

We've barely spoken since then, and I have barely touched her. Taking her up to one of my bedrooms was a mistake, and it made her believe that she was free to roam through the house as she pleases. She struggled when I forced her back to her cell downstairs. I used more violence than I'd usually be comfortable with, and it was not only due to her defiant struggle. I resent myself for what I did. Not for the tears I caused her, but for the weakness I showed in front of her.

I'm falling for her. She's like a succubus. It's impossible to resist her seductive charm. She's a professional, I must never forget that, never. She knows how to play men like me, because she's been paid to do so for years.

I can't afford to lose myself in her. It's far too dangerous. And I have to make sure that her disappearance didn't cause an uproar. If her client was unable to find her when he was expecting to, won't he be looking for her by now?

I had to find out, and the only way I could do that was to leave my house. I left her in the basement dungeon, locked up but unchained. She has a mattress to sleep on, not a very elegant solution, but it beats taking her up to my bed, an option that I found myself considering against my better judgment.

There's no way for her to escape from that basement, and no way to draw anyone's attention. I don't have to worry, but yet I do. I worry, not so much about her getting away from me, but about her, her safety, her sanity. The look on her face has changed ever since that fateful day when I unleashed the monster inside both of us.

The image of her face haunts me even now. I'm standing in front of a public pay phone, something I wasn't even sure still existed until now. I'm dialing the number that was printed on her business card, a number I've called before, but for a different purpose.

The woman who picks up doesn't sound familiar. Thank God.

"Violent Delights," she pipes. "How can we serve you?"

I skip pleasantries and get straight to the point.

"I'm calling about one of your girls," I say, noticing that I disguise my voice even though there's no apparent need to. "I just came across her file and she really caught my attention. Her name is Ruby Red."

"Yes, of course," the woman replies. "You're interested in booking her?"

I clear my throat. "Yes. As soon as possible."

"For a night, sir?"

"Yes," I hurry to reply, rolling my eyes. This is taking forever. "Is she available? When can I have her?"

"Please give me a moment to look up her file, sir," she replies, unable to hide the fact that her politeness is pure show.

"Of course," I growl, frantically checking my surroundings, as if there was any chance that I was being watched.

"Sir?" she asks after so much time has passed in silence that I'm startled by her voice.

"Yes, I'm listening."

"I'm sorry, but Miss Ruby Red won't be available any time this month," the woman says. "Could I suggest one of our other-"

"Why is she not available?"

She clears her throat. "I'm not at liberty to divulge that information."

"Is she with a client? For that long?"

I hear a sigh at the other end. "Sir, I can't tell you."

I roll my eyes. Of course I know that. Discretion is one of the main benefits of doing business with this agency, and one of the main reasons I became their client in the first place.

"Look, I just want to know whether she's okay," I say. "She's not sick or anything? Because... you know, that would affect my interest in her."

"Oh no, sir, she's perfectly fine," the woman assures me. "She's indeed busy with a client."

I huff. "For that long, huh?"

I can hear her fidgeting on the other end of the line. She's already said too much, and she knows it. Nevertheless, she gives me the piece of information that I need.

"Yes," she says. "She has been booked for the entire month and is currently unavailable."

It doesn't sound like there's anything wrong with Ruby. No missing person report, either at the agency or in the news during the past few days. I don't know how this is possible, but whoever booked her certainly doesn't seem to miss her.

"So, she's definitely with the client now?"

"As I've told you already, sir, yes, she is," she says anew. "It's an exclusive contract that went into effect a few days ago."

She coughs slightly.

"Sir, if you are a client with us, I could-"

"Lucky guy," I say, before hanging up, interrupting her mid-sentence.

I walk away from the phone booth as quickly as possible, my head buzzing with unanswered questions.

How is it possible that no one is looking for her? Is it just a matter of time until I'll see her face on the news? I've done extensive research, even checked out police reports, but there's nothing about a blonde woman her age missing anywhere. Maybe not enough time has passed yet for her client to report her missing? She said her client had a five-day window during which he could seize her, but I never asked when during that time frame I kidnapped her.

I had to fight a painful surge of jealousy when she talked about him, the man she was supposed to be with right now. There was no real affection in her voice, but a certain fondness for him and the contract between them. I know she didn't agree to this simply because she felt like she had to. She signed up for this because it's what she wanted.

A girl like her gets to choose. She's not an uncommon type for this agency. They claim to deliver nothing but the best of the best, and they really do. All the girls in their files are not only astonishingly pretty and sexy, they also have a mind of their own, they're smart, and stronger than the prejudice existing about escorts usually dictates.

Nevertheless, they're all actresses, and that includes her, my Ruby Red. I can't trust her, and I have to remember that.

But I also can't stop thinking about her. I've been away from the house long enough, longer than I ever have since taking her.

My mind is still racing, matched by the speed of my heart rate, as I walk back to my car. I’ve been away too long.