by Holt, Leah
“Boston.”
“Where's that?”
“The U.S.”
“That's a world away from here.” She sounded much more relaxed, almost at ease. We sat silent for a moment, and I don't think either of us really knew how to have a normal conversation anymore.
What do you say?
What do you ask?
It wasn't like we had lives to talk about outside that place. Memories equaled more pain, and I wanted to avoid the pain.
“Can I ask you something?” she finally questioned.
“Sure.” Picking at my fingers, I kept my hands in my lap.
I had one ear on her and one on the hall. We had to be careful. If we got caught, I didn't even want to think about what Virgo would do to her.
I wasn't really worried about myself. I had been with him long enough to build up a thick skin to his punishments. The scars I bore were my armor. He couldn't hurt me anymore than he already had. Death was the only other thing he had, and I knew he would never give me that because it was something I had begged him for.
'You'll always suffer, that's why you were brought to me.' His words were burned into my head, a constant reminder of how he truly saw me.
“Do you think your family is looking for you?”
My heart clenched at her question, turning the muscle to stone. Taking in a labored breath, my eyes closed tightly. The memory of that day flooded my mind, making my body numb.
The answer was simple. No, no one was out there looking for me.
But every once in awhile, I wondered if my siblings questioned where I was. And then I would remember how young they were when we were separated. Odds are, they didn't even realize I existed anymore.
There memories of me had probably faded, becoming more of a dream than a reality that was once viable. My sister was three and my brother was barely a year old, there minds were cleansed of their older sister by now, filled with new memories of whatever life they were living in.
They're fine and happy. You have to believe that.
“No one is looking for me, no one has ever been looking for me. I'm not one of the lucky ones with a chance out of this hell.”
“Oh,” Aubrey said softly. “I'm sorry.”
“Don't be, it's not your fault.” The floor creaked outside my door, causing my back to stiffen. “Shh,” I huffed out quickly.
“Why? What do you hear?”
Boom!
The noise caused my muscles to jerk in surprise.
“Who the fuck are you talking to?” A man's voice came out forcefully.
But he wasn't standing in my room, he was in Aubrey's.
Shit. . .
Snapping up onto my knees, I threw my ear to the wall, pushing it as hard as I could against it. Splaying an open palm on the sheet rock, I wanted desperately to climb through the wall and save her.
It was my idea to talk, not hers. I was the one who had reached out, I was the one who had decided to break a rule.
This is all my fault.
“N—no one, just myself.”
His feet pounded over the floor, and I heard Aubrey let out a cry that made my stomach jump into my throat.
Her screams could probably be heard through the entire building. It sounded like she was being dragged away and her heels were scraping against the floor, doing their best to keep her inside.
“Let me go! No! No! I didn't do anything!”
Jumping to my feet, I ran to my door and started pounding on it. “It was me! I talked to her! Leave her alone! Take me Asshole!”
A loud bang hit my door, making me jump backwards. “Shut up, Berlin!”
“Leave her alone! It was me! Take me!”
Aubrey was crying loudly, her sobs fading as the man yanked her further and further away, bringing her to receive her punishment.
I stood like a statue in my room, guilt gnawing away at my insides like a rabid dog that killed a squirrel.
This is all my fault. I did this to her.
I didn't have much time to think about what had happened. Within seconds my door was thrown open and a man named Juno stepped in, grabbing me by the hair.
“You want to see what happens when something's your fault?” Yanking me out of my room, I followed on stumbling feet, doing my best to stay upright. “Let me show you.”
Juno dragged me like a rag doll downstairs, walking me through the hall that led to the basement. I could feel my stomach as it knotted, unsure what the hell was going to happen.
It doesn't matter, you can handle it.
Her screams began to fill the air as we reached the door for the ditch. But Juno didn't open the door, he just held me there, his fingers pressed around the back of my neck, keeping me in place. I listened to her cries for help, I listened to the sound of her being hit, I listened as my choice created scars on her body.
And there was nothing I could do.
Juno loosened his grip, allowing my body to fall. Dropping onto my knees in the center of the hall, I pressed my fingertips to my temples. I wanted to take her pain away, I wanted to cry for what she was going through.
Yet, I couldn't. My tear ducts were dry as a desert, unable to do a fucking thing anymore.
Raking my nails through my hair, I looked up at the ceiling and prayed.
'If you do exist, you can forget everything I've ever asked of you, if you just let her live. Don't let him kill her too because of me. She doesn't deserve to suffer because of my stupidity.'
It was like I was poison, everything I touched seemed to die around me.
I watched my mother die, my father was probably long gone, my sister and brother were basically figments of my imagination at that point. Even if they were out there somewhere, they were unreachable, they might as well be dead. Samantha had lost her life because she wanted to help me.
Now Aubrey—I wasn't sure she was strong enough to survive.
This only cemented the idea in my head that I had to get out, I needed to get away.
And there was one last option that floated into my fingertips.
It was time to do something big.
Chapter Eight
Salt
Sitting in the darkness, I waited not so patiently for my flower.
That's what she was, she was my flower.
I fucking hated the idea of another man with his hands all over her, his eyes greedily devouring her, trying to take her in ways that weren't meant for anyone else but me.
The second she walked in that door the first night, I knew instantly that I wanted her all for myself. No one else deserved her, not one man on this earth had earned the right to touch her the way I wanted to.
Clenching my jaw at the thought of someone else being skin deep inside her, I buried my fingers into my palms, ready to kill every last one of these motherfuckers inside the building.
She thought I should be afraid of them, but she had it all wrong.
Because I was the one who owned fear. It was mine to give and mine to take, just like the sweet flower I so kindly decided was mine without her permission.
The music was a thorn in my ear, twisting its thin talons into my brain and giving me a headache. I fucking hated this place. I never even wanted to step foot inside, but shit needed to get taken care of.
An empire had suddenly fallen into my hands. A business that I was born into, a world that was harsh, unforgiving, and perfect for me.
I never really questioned where the darkness in my soul came from, all I knew was that it was there, and it felt fucking good when I could unleash it.
The door split open and I watched silently as my flower entered. Her eyes were huge, trying desperately to seek me out in the room. Smirking to myself, I watched her cautiously close the door, unsure of who she was going to find.
Tonight I wanted more from her. And she was going to give it to me.
But I wouldn't take it by force, no I wouldn't have to.
She was going to give it to me willingly without a second thought.
<
br /> The thin spikes on her heels made her calves pop as she walked, elongating her legs. My tongue traced my bottom lip as I pictured myself licking her from ankle to thigh, tasting her skin, devouring every inch of her body as she melted in my hands.
“You're back.” Her voice was light, filled with a sliver of happiness. “I wasn't sure I'd see you again.”
I liked the way she sounded right then. Her happiness was real, unlike the forced bravado she tried to use on me the first night. My pulse picked up, causing my cock to jerk at the sweet innocence in her tone.
“Mystery and wonder are funny things, they can make you feel so much, especially when you're not ready for it.” Smirking, I let my eyes lick her from head to toe. “I also enjoy watching your body come alive and your muscles tense when you realize it's me.”
“Alive—” Cutting herself off, she dipped her head into her chest. “I'm not sure that's what you're seeing. I don't know what it feels like to be alive anymore.”
You will, I promise you that.
The wordless promise sat on my brain like molasses, slowly dripping into every crevasse. I wanted to make her feel so much more than just that; I wanted her body to tremble as I touched it, I wanted her breath to hitch as my lips teased the surface of her skin. I wanted her to know what it felt like to be with a real man.
Her feet clicked over the hard floor as she made her way towards the stage. Climbing up, she ran her fingers through her hair, flipping it off her back. “I'm assuming you just want me to dance, am I right?”
I was infatuated by that girl. The woman with hair the color of copper and eyes so green, they glowed like a black cat's in a dark alley. I couldn't get her out of my fucking head.
But I wasn't there for that, I should have done what I came for right after the plane landed and been long gone, but this woman had dug her nails into my brain, refusing to let me go.
Sitting quietly, I didn't give her an answer.
Wrapping her hand around the pole, she spun in a circle, curling her body around the metal like a snake on a tree limb. Peering at me over her shoulder, she gave me her award winning fake smile.
“Don't,” I said, drawing my lips back into a thin frown.
“Don't what?” she asked, grinding against the pole, and biting her bottom lip.
“Don't smile unless you mean it.” Glaring at her through the darkness like a hawk at its prey, I watched her expression fall flat. “There's nothing worse than a forced smile.”
Gripping the pole with her hand, she eyed me guardedly. “You know, you're a really confusing man.” Twirling a finger in my direction, her lips pursed. “And I bet you enjoy it too, don't you? Pretending to not want anything, acting like the world is in the palm of your hand.”
“That's because it is.” Adjusting the cuff on my sleeve, I tugged it down. “I'm not confusing. I've been pretty clear with you about what I want.” Stroking my jaw, I slouched into the seat. “I might like games, but I haven't played any with you. . .” Pausing, I let the air dangle between us until I could see her body tense, waiting for me to continue. “Yet.”
“Is that what you think?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. “I think you've done nothing but play games with me.”
“Please, humor me with why.”
“Well,” she said, spreading her legs wide open as she rocked with the beat. “The first night you seemed guarded, the second night you refused to listen to me when I told you to leave, the third you warned me about how dangerous you are, and tonight you just seem settled, as if you own the seat you're sitting in.” Popping her ass, she rode the pole back up. “I'd call that playing games.”
This woman takes notes. She pays attention.
But she's wrong.
“Was I clear about what I wanted every time I was here?”
“Yes.” Nodding her head, her fingers clenched the pole as she twirled.
“Then how I act doesn't matter. If I want to sit and watch, I will. If I want to get up and walk around, I fucking will. If I decide I want you to do a fucking headstand and sing for me. . .” My lip twitched, head angling into my shoulder. “You will.”
“What the hell is the point you're trying to make? That you're in charge? Because I'm pretty sure I made that clear the first day.”
“The point is, you'll know what I want from you, but what I do or how I act is irrelevant. It's that simple.”
“Is it really that simple?” she asked, snapping out her hip as she stood still, her body stiff and rigid.
Pushing my hands into the arm of the chair, I stood myself up and walked to the edge of the stage. Using the very tips of my fingers, I tickled her ankle, gently running my fingers up and down her calf.
“Tell me your name,” I said, tracing the muscle in her calf, circling her ankle and riding the muscle back up.
“I told you already, it's Ash.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Your real name.” My hand kept sweeping up and down her leg, feeling her silky smooth skin.
Her eyes steadied in the sockets as the question drew out an uncomfortable shudder. Taking a step back, she pulled her leg away. “I can't do that.”
“Yes you can.”
Curling her arms over her chest, I watched her trying to protect herself. “I can't do that, it's against the rules.”
“I make the rules in here, no one else. You told me that, you said the word no doesn't exist in here. So, give me what I want, tell me your name.”
“Why don't you tell me yours first?”
“Fine,” I said, holding out my arms as if I was an open book. Biting my bottom lip, I arched my brows, letting my eyes scan her face. “Bentley, there, now it's your turn.”
“I thought you said it was Salt?”
Smirking, I leaned over the stage and took her hand, pulling her back into reach. “It is, that's what other people call me. But I want your real name, so I'm willing to trade, mine for yours.”
“Well, I can't, I'm sorry.”
“You can and you will.” Veering my stare, I tilted my head. “You said before I can have anything I want in here, that's what I want, I want your real name.”
Tearing her hand free from mine, her brows dipped into the bridge of her nose. “I told you I can't.” Her voice was low as she spoke through clenched teeth. “I can do anything else for you, but I can't give you my real name.”
You're going to give me what I want.
Climbing onto the stage, Ash started to back up more, her eyes huge and surprised. Stalking forward, I trapped her against the wall. Cupping her chin, I lifted her face, forcing her eyes onto mine.
“Are you really telling me no?” She didn't answer, she just stared up at me, her skin washing white with concern. “Because bad things happen when people tell me no.”
A shiver ran over her body, the tremble so fierce I felt it zip through the pads of my fingers. Swallowing hard, Ash crooked her jaw, glaring at me with razor sharp eyes.
“Is that a threat?” she asked, her words cold and abrasive.
She's not afraid me.
What have you been through, my flower?
“It's a promise.” Leaning in, I kissed her forehead as my thumb drew small circles over her chin. “And I always keep my promises.”
Parting her lips to speak, I pushed a single finger against her mouth, silencing her from saying a word.
“I want you to think really hard about what you're going to say. Think very carefully about it, because this is the only chance you'll have.”
Her eyes searched my face, but not once did she show any true fear. She was trying to read me, trying to weigh the truthfulness in what I was saying.
Would I really hurt her?
Would I punish her for not listening?
I knew the answers to her questions, but I wasn't going to let her know how far I was willing to go to get what I wanted.
The soft light under the stage caught her skin perfectly, highlighting thin scars on her shoulders. Running the tips of my
fingers across one of the lines, I traced the old wound.
Her eyes fell to her shoulder, watching my finger as it moved over more marks, gently admiring the battles she fought.
“Are there more?” I asked.
Sucking in a gulp of air, she pushed my hand away, covering her scars with an open palm. Biting on her cheeks, she glanced over my shoulder, darting her eyes around in the darkness.
“Who did this to you?” I tried to ask delicately, knowing from her eyes that those scars were a source of pain she didn't want to remember. “Was it your boss?”
The girl froze up, her voice no longer audible as she closed her lips and bit the inside of her cheeks harder. Her face had sunken in, her skin glistening in nervous sweat as she tried to weed out the answers she was willing to give and those she couldn't—or wouldn't.
Dancing my fingers across her collarbone, I slid my hand around her throat, coddling it in my palm. My thumb found the thick vein in her neck, her pulse picking up as I applied a little pressure.
“I'm not sure you're understanding how this works.” Angling my head, I lowered my face so our cheeks were touching as I whispered into her ear. “I ask and you answer.” Inhaling a shallow breath, I felt the blood as it was forced through her vein. “Do you need me to explain the rules again?” Squaring my shoulders, I looked down on her, hoping she would give me something.
Licking her lips, her eyes stayed firmly planted on mine. “Berlin.”
“Berlin?” Catching me off guard, I expected her to beg me to let her go, to plead with me not to hurt her.
I wasn't planning on hurting her anymore than was necessary, but I wanted her to feel how serious I was, I wanted her to understand that I'm not a gentleman. I'm a soldier built from titanium, ready and willing to kill for what he wanted.
And I wanted her. I wanted everything from her.
Every detail, every memory, every pain she had ever felt; I wanted all of it.
“That's my name, my real name is Berlin.”
Loosening my grip on her neck, I pulled my hand away. “A pretty name for a pretty girl.” Looking at my watch, I took some money from my pocket and dropped it at her feet. “Time's up. Tell your boss whatever you need to, I've got a meeting to get to.”
