Throne of Truth

He hadn’t let me go until I stood in the middle of the kitchen and he’d grabbed the knife. The sharp blade didn’t scare me, but the lack of warm clothes and shoes did. Even if I did spy an opportunity to run, I wouldn’t get far unless I dressed appropriately.

Greg patted the duffel. A smirk spread his lips. “I brought these as a last resort, but after having the convenience of the rope around your wrist, I think they’ll come in handy.” Pulling out a leather cuff, the heavy clinking of chains sounded.

My mouth shot dry as his bicep bulged, hefting the weight from the bag to the counter.

He’d dressed in a white t-shirt with faded jeans, his dark blond hair swept back, drying from our joint shower, while the odd droplet turned his t-shirt translucent on the shoulders.

He looked innocent...familiar. The contents he’d just dumped into view were the exact opposite.

I backed away, bumping into the oven. “What the hell is that?”

He chuckled. “Gifts for you, of course.”

“I don’t want any gifts.”

“Believe me, you’ll change your mind soon enough.” Unbuckling the leather cuff that attached to the glinting chain, he carried the metal across the living room to a sturdy looking hook. A fire poker and small shovel hung for cleaning out the ashes in the grate.

Removing the poker, he secured the chain and locked it with a small padlock before making his way back toward me, letting the links slip through his fingers to stain the floorboards with imprisonment.

The length kept going from the living room to where I stood petrified in the kitchen.

Dropping the remaining chain by my feet, he said, “Until you behave and stop looking at the door to run, I’m going to ensure you stay here with me, okay?”

“No, not okay. You’ve already squirreled me away where no one can find us.” I darted backward, trapped by cabinets. “I don’t like being tied up, Greg.”

“Too bad.” His eyes narrowed. “I didn’t ask your opinion or permission.” He held up the leather cuff. “Now, come here.”

I shook my head, my eyes flickering to the knife on the coffee table over his shoulder.

If only I could reach it. “I won’t run.”

“I know you won’t. This system will make sure of it.” He advanced.

I pushed harder into the cabinetry but had nowhere else to go.

Only a foot separated us.

Greg smiled then dropped to one knee as if to propose. I held my breath, shock and horror crawling over my insides as he reached for my ankle and latched his heinous fingers around my leg.

The moment he caught me, he wrapped the leather cuff around my limb, pulling tight before running the chain through the small hook at the top and securing it with the aid of another padlock.

The second I was locked in place, he stood with a triumphant look on his face. “You should be able to go anywhere you need in the cabin but not outside.” Returning to the bag, he pulled out another chain, this one shorter with two cuffs on either side instead of one. “Give me your hands.”

“What?”

“Your hands, Elle.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m deadly fucking serious.” He came forward, letting one cuff dangle while he reached for my wrist—the one with rope burns from the stupid twine he’d used.

What the hell is he doing?

“I’m not your prisoner, Greg.”

“I beg to differ.” His fingers bit into my arm as he wrapped the cuff around me and once again secured it with a tiny padlock. At least the leather was soft and supple rather than coarse and prickly. It looked expensive with gold stitching and faux fur trim. Not the cheap kink sold at wannabe sex shops.

Not that I know what cheap or expensive sex toys look like.

A memory of the Seahorse and other dildo samples from Loveline reminded me Penn still had my property.

He has my underwear, too.

At the time, it hadn’t bothered me. I thought I’d be back for more sexcapades, and he would use the toys on me. But that was before he let me walk home and I was almost molested; before he scooped me up and washed my feet. Before his lies came crashing down and burst into fiery flames.

Capturing my other arm, Greg growled as I wriggled and tried to break free. “Stand still.”

He grunted as he tucked my arm against his body and circled my other wrist with the last cuff. The soft snick of the fourth padlock shattered my thoughts of strangling him for my freedom.

“There, nice and secure.” Greg kissed my forehead, pulling me forward thanks to the looping chain now permanently present.

I deliberated punching and kicking and screaming and cursing him, but what would that achieve? My leg was tethered to the fireplace, I was practically naked, and my arms were now joined like an inmate on death row.

He wouldn’t let me run. He wouldn’t let me go.

He’d only pay me back if I hurt him. And I already knew how painful his punches could be.

My temple throbbed in agreement.

Had it only been last night he’d hit me in my apartment garage?

It had to have been centuries with how tired and stressed I was.

Even the thought of having sex in the limo with Penn didn’t affect me the way it had before.

The tummy moths were dead, their paper wings dissolved in bile.

I’d gone from liking Penn to hating him, and it was exhausting hating two people at the same time for entirely different reasons.

Greg released me, inspecting his handiwork. “You look hot in chains.”