Throne of Truth

I fought in his hold, lashing my fingers around his wrists to get free. “That wasn’t why he lied.”

He did it to sleep with me after a three-year promise in an alley.

“Don’t care. He’s gone now. I merely want to be with you, to share in what you have. Is that so wrong?” His voice lowered. “I don’t want to take it away from you, Elle. I only want to enjoy it side by side. I’m willing to be a good husband, hard worker, and loyal father to any kids we have. This isn’t about me stealing from you. It’s about me giving you what you deserve.”

I snorted. “What I deserve? Do I deserve to be kidnapped and held against my will?”

Please, he was moronic.

“Until you listen to me, yes.” Shoving me away, Greg ripped at my silver and white panties and jerked them down my legs.

One arm stayed glued to my chest, and the other darted between my thighs to hide the trimmed curls and smoothness I’d taken to maintaining ever since I met Nameless and became a slave to my libido in an open park. I’d never wanted to be unprepared for a moment where sex could be a possibility—even when my life had been chained to work with no time for pleasure.

Until Penn.

My heart threw up then did an odd pirouette. Part of me was repulsed I’d slept with him knowing what I knew now, while the shallower, less cohesive part of me couldn’t care less. He’d been a crook three years ago—could he have changed? Could he be a good person after being so bad?

You’re talking gibberish.

I blamed it on Greg.

I only accepted Penn’s lies and who he was hiding because even in that dark alley with his awful fingers shredding my clothes and stealing my money, he still wasn’t as bad as Greg was. Sure, he would’ve scared me and stolen what he could. But Greg thought he could keep me in a lifetime of servitude, believing we were equals all while he suffocated me in a marriage I resented, revoked, and wanted to rip to shreds.

Grabbing me around the waist, he lifted me over the edge of the tub and held me until my feet gained traction on the slippery bath.

Climbing in behind me, I shivered with repulsion as he reached around my nakedness and turned the tap on.

I gasped as icy water spewed from the single showerhead directly onto my chest.

Greg wrapped his arms around me, keeping me under the glacial torrent, breathing hot breath into my ear. “See how cold you are on your own, Elle? How hard it is to get warm?”

Moving closer, his front pressed against my back, wedging unwanted but much-needed body heat against my back.

His cock thickened, pulsing against my lower spine as he cradled me. I hated that he offered shelter from the cold spray, twisting my mind as the protector when he’d been the one to turn on the water in the first place.

“Let me go.” I reached behind to dig my fingernails into his hip. Shivering hijacked me until my teeth rattled. “Dammit, Greg. Stop!”

He flinched but only held tighter. Reaching with his left arm, he swiveled the tap to hot, and I waited with goosebumps and trembles as the liquid ice slowly switched to tepid waterfall to steamy stream to scalding tempest.

I winced as my skin turned lobster red. “Ouch!”

“Whoops. Can’t have you burning up now, can we?” He twisted the tap again, finally finding the right hot to cold ratio.

My flesh no longer tried to turn into an ice-berg or melt with magma, but I didn’t relax. Not one little bit.

Turning me around, he barely noticed my resistance. My feet slipped with no effort on the bath, my body stiff as a sword. When I stood facing him with my arms acting as my underwear, he grinned. “Back you go.” He pushed until my head vanished under the shower, drenching my long hair.

The water offered a reprieve, filling my ears and eyes and senses with cleansing rushes rather than reveal the tiny bathroom in the tiny cabin with the madman I was currently with.

After I was sufficiently drowned, he pulled me forward and opened a bottle of shampoo on the ledge of the bath. “I’m going to show you how supportive and kind I can be, Elle.”

He licked his lips, tipping synthetic berry bubbles into his palm. “I’m going to make sure you’re squeaky clean, and then we’re going to have a chat about our new life together.”

I bit my tongue.

Words didn’t work on him, and I refused to stoop to a level where I begged or pleaded for some rationality. There was no rationality left. I was in a shower naked with Greg while he promised to care for me after I’d promised I’d kill him if my disappearance hurt my father.

He either believed in his delusions or was so twisted, he honestly thought I wanted him and was merely playing hard to get.

His hands landed on my head, rubbing the unwanted bubbles into my strands, coating me with a foreign smell.

I missed my bathroom and honeysuckle body-wash.

I missed Sage and her morning meow and head-butt.

I missed my father and his gentle smile.

Hell, I even missed Penn even while hating him.

“The silent treatment won’t work on me forever, you know.” Greg gathered my wet tresses, plopping them onto my head where he massaged more suds.

I refused to enjoy his fussing. My skin crawled rather than relaxed with the soft pressure.

I put my chin in the air, glowering.

We’ll see.

“If you’re going to be like that, turn around.” He pushed my shoulder, swiveling me in place. I wobbled on the slippery surface, refusing to unlock my arms from protecting my decency to act as balancing rods.