Under Charles' watchful gaze, I fell asleep in his bed while he watched me on the sofa opposite the bed. He said it was to ensure I remained safe, but I had been on the receiving end of that obsessive gaze far too many times to be naïve about his true intentions. He did, however, take out Tomas and his ridiculously agile assistant, which meant, despite my endurance training, I would not be able to get past him. Already, my alarm bells were going off as I found myself in a situation similar to one I had been running from all my life.
Once again, I woke up to Charles whisper-yelling my name. It was still dark outside, but he was fully dressed, and he looked like he had been awake for a long time. He helped me up, disregarding my dazed state, and led me out of his room and down to his basement. I stumbled along, sleep still clouding my mind, down the stairs, barely looking around until I came face to face with a somewhat questionable scene.
Tomas and his Drew his assistant were tied up back to back with a structural beam between them. Industrial chains were wrapped around them in addition to zip ties, and rags were stuffed into their mouths. They were all shades of black with their faces so badly swollen, they were almost unrecognizable. They were unnaturally still, their bodies slumped over the chairs, only held upright by the chains. Before I could question what was happening, a man I had never seen before appeared with a bucket of water and, without warning, threw the water at the two men. Another man emerged from behind the first one as if spawning and in the next second dumped the contents of his bucket on the two men. The second bucket did the trick, and the two men came spluttering to life.
Tomas started thrashing violently against his restraints, determined to set himself free while Drew surveyed the room, calm and collected. Tomas' biggest issue was a lack of control in situations that were out of his control. He only thrived in situations where he was the sole architect; the judge, jury, and executioner. After a full minute of thrashing and testing the strength of his bondage, he calmed down, his silence more potent than his yells. He scanned the room, finally locking eyes with and even though he was securely chained, I found myself taking an involuntary step back. Charles once again was right behind me, his hands wrapping around my shoulder in what should have been comfort but was a show of dominance. Tomas' eyes quickly shifted, staring at his hands around my body, and his already dark eyes became twin pools of an endless abyss.
"Who the hell are you?"
"Her new man. You are her reject, right?" he asked, and without moving an inch or even breathing, louder, Tomas's face turned darker as if the blackness of his soul had risen to the surface.
While I struggled to remember how to breathe, fighting against every instinct I had to not turn around and run away, Charles moved us closer. Every forced step in his direction raised my impossibly fast heartbeat even faster so that by six steps later, I was on the verge of hyperventilating. I tried to get away from both of them, but Charles's hands tightened his posture, widening. Even if I did fully fight against him, I would not be going anywhere. The moment my feet left the ground, just half an inch barely perceptible, but it was the final stroke of red in the flag, unmistakably dangerous.
"She is mine; she can never belong to you?" Ask her who keeps her up at night? Who she remembers in the throes of her misery and her savior. If she mentions anyone else, I know she i lying because I know my memory keeps her awake at night.
That was when I snapped. All the fear and paralysis I felt as the cause of my trauma took a dump all over my cleaned-up life dissipated as my anger flooded back in with a vengeance, nearly blinding me. I fidgeted a little and let out a small sigh of relief as my feet once again reconnected with the floor, and without pausing, I walked to Tomas. My fist connected with his jaw before a plan fully formed in my mind. Pain reverberated through my arm, the sensation bringing me much-needed clarity. I was no longer the little girl li used to be. he had not saved me, merely improved a flower he found appealing. My mother's fist connected with his jaw, my left hook lacking the vengeance my right hand had delivered, but his head still snapped back from the impact, giving me a twisted sense of satisfaction.
Right hook, left hook, right, left, my hands pelleted blow after blow on his face. All sounds and all my vision were reduced to discerning the motion of my fist and the satisfying sound after. I did not stop until my knuckles were bloody and his blood mingled with mine as both our skin gave way under the brutal assault. I didn't stop until he stopped moving and his eyes drifted shut, bloody and glassy.
"That's my girl," Charles whispered right into my ear, his hot breath fanning my neck and lobes, raising goosebumps.
I turned around, still fired up, my vision still blinded by rage. I raised my hand and brought my fist up to his face, but he easily caught it. He yanked me to him, flattening my chest against his, but before I could even protest, his arms closed around my waist and brought his lips down to mine. I tried pushing him off to fire up to accept his kisses despite any previous attraction. he was just as dangerous or even more so than Tomas, and I knew firsthand how hard it was to leave a man who had no line when it came to keeping you by his side. I tried pushing him away, but he might as well have been a wall. Instead, he deepened the kiss, forcing his tongue into my mouth while his soft lips moved roughly against mine with unrestrained passion mixed with violence.
He broke off the kiss long enough to scoop me into his arms and cradled me like a bride, carrying me up the stairs. As soon as we were out of the dimly lit room, he started kissing me again while carrying me back into his room. I wanted to scream to yell for him to let me go, but instead I melted into his heated embrace, welcoming his intrusion with fervor. By the time he dropped me on the bed, I had forgotten all the reasons why I needed to fight against him. He tore off his shirt, and reason joined resistance in running away.
His well-defined muscles looked sculpted under the soft mood lights, and I felt an inexplicable thirst. I not only wanted him inside me, I wanted to be inside him. He paused, having kissed the resistance away, and stared deep into my eyes. I only saw blurred almond pupils, my body too hot, and my thoughts too scattered to fully comprehend reality. I pulled him down to me, eager to satiate my thirst, and he willingly locked his lips with mine in a heated embrace as our lips and tongue glided over each other, seeking and giving.
He pulled up his shirt, which I had been the only article of clothing I had on, leaving me bare. I tried pulling him back to me, but he backed away, staring at my body in something akin to awe, but maybe it was passion muddled brain. A cool breeze blew across my skin, causing me to shiver despite how heated my flesh felt. The movement gained back his attention and descended on me like prey, and I welcomed him, a willing victim. He ran his hot tongue across my skin, kissing me from my head up to my toes.
A voice suddenly broke through my passion-riddled mind, but Charles was in much better condition than I was. He was at the door while my eyes were still trained on his erect member, which was quickly softening. I heard a gunshot, and reality hit me like a bucket of ice water. The all-consuming lust I felt moments before vanished just as suddenly as it came.