by J. L. Beck
“Yeah, sure, whatever,” I mumble. Right now, I don’t care about anything. I take another gulp of whiskey, emptying the rest of the contents into my mouth. Frowning at the bottle, I contemplate going back downstairs to grab another.
“I’ll message you when I’m on my way, okay?”
“Yeah,” I hiss and fall back onto the mattress. “Wait… I could use your help with something. Since you’re going to come here anyway.”
“Okay?” He sounds a little uneasy, probably because I hardly ever ask for help.
“Fallon, the girl here with me, the one I bought at the auction…”
“Yes. You’re speaking in blocks, Markus. Spit it out.” Impatience fills his voice.
“Fuck you!” I growl and continue, “I need to teach her a lesson. I’ll send you a text and tell you exactly what I want from you when you get here.”
“Whatever you need, I got you.”
It should bother me he’s willing to do anything I ask, even to an innocent woman, but it doesn’t. Not today.
Fallon needs to learn her place and learn that no matter how much time passes or how attached I grow to her, she will always be mine and that I will always hold the power in this fucked up relationship we have.
“Talk later,” he says, and ends the call.
I drop the phone onto the mattress beside me and stare up at the ceiling. My vision is blurry, and my ears start ringing.
As soon as my conversation with Lucca is over, my thoughts return to Fallon.
She did this to herself. She betrayed you… I tell myself, but somehow it doesn’t lessen the pain I feel in my chest. It doesn’t lessen my want to bring her upstairs and wrap my arms around her, to fuck her until she is a mess of my cum. She won’t learn her lesson that way, though, so I hold myself back.
I let the alcohol pump through my veins and overtake my senses. Eventually, my eyes drift closed, and my mind shuts down. I fall into a fitful sleep, but even in my dreams, I can’t escape her beautiful face and soft cries.
19
Fallon
I try to abate the shivers and tears, but I can’t. I can’t get them to stop. I haven’t since he left me here two nights ago. He’s been coming to bring me food and to let me use the bathroom, but he doesn’t even look at me, and he barely speaks at all.
I’m still naked beside the pair of panties I’m wearing.
The only thing to keep me warm is the blanket and the two pillows that were down here from before. The book remained here as well, but my mind is too scrambled to even attempt to read. Plus, my constant crying would make it hard to see the words.
The tears slip freely from my eyes and down my cheeks, leaving wet tracks behind. It was a mistake to think I could go into that office and make a phone call without him knowing.
I knew it was a trap, knew he was testing me, and I still did it. But I had to try, and I did, but unfortunately, I didn’t succeed. Another shiver wracks my body, and I shake like a leaf in the wind. The cold down here isn’t normal. It pierces your insides, making it impossible for the warmth to ever return.
At least he left the light on, but that was only after I begged and pleaded with him. I felt so weak doing so, but the thought of being in the dark for days, I couldn’t fathom it.
Sighing, I bite the inside of my cheek to stop my lips from trembling. However, it doesn’t stop my teeth from chattering. Curling up on the two pillows, I wrap the blanket tightly around my body and let my eyes drift closed. I’m exhausted, so exhausted. I’ve barely slept while down here, and I don’t think I will be able to until my body completely shuts down.
I know whenever sleep comes, it won’t be restful. Time seems to drag on when you’re cold. Eventually, I stop sobbing, and my entire body becomes numb to my surroundings.
I’m not sure how much time has passed, but I feel myself sinking into a fitful sleep when the sound of approaching footfalls meets my ears.
My eyes flutter open and my heart jumps in my chest. Suddenly, I’m awake again, my eyes darting around the cell. Is it time for food again? Is he coming to let me out? It’s false hope since I know there is no way he will bring me upstairs, but I want to think he will because it makes me feel better and gives me a sliver of warmth when nothing else does.
The door creaks open a moment later, and Markus appears on the other side. His entire face is cloaked in a mask of complete darkness. A shudder works its way down my spine as a new kind of coldness washes over me.
I notice then that his hands are empty, which means he is not here to bring me food.
Markus is watching me like a predator watches its prey, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Unsure if I should say anything, I remain quiet and unmoving. It’s like I’m seeing a side of him I’ve never seen before, and if I’m not careful, I won’t survive.
My stomach tightens into a ball of nervous knots. My entire body trembles, and I’m struck with terror. I’ve never been more afraid of Markus than I am right now.
What’s he going to do to me?
As soon as he’s close enough, I can smell it. The distinct smell of alcohol sticks to him like a second skin—bourbon with subtle undertones of cinnamon and cloves. I want to push off the wall and rush into his arm and breathe in his scent, to bury my face into his chest and let his warmth seep into me, but I don’t move.
Rigid like a stone, I remain staring forward.
“Go use the bathroom.” His words are a little slurred, but not nearly as much as I figured they would be since his entire body is swaying. Is he going to be able to stay on his feet?
I get up and follow him to the bathroom, where I do my business quickly. I’m not sure about what to do. Should I try to use him being drunk to my advantage? Could I overpower him like that? Or at least outrun him? I just need enough time to make that stupid phone call. But that’s exactly what I thought the other night too.
“Hurry,” his deep voice booms through the door, making me jump.
When I exit the bathroom, he is leaning against the wall like he needs its support.
“I knew I never should’ve trusted you. You’re nothing but a toy to me. Or maybe a pet, a misbehaving pet.” His words cut through me like a dull knife.
This is the most he has spoken to me in days, and the hatred in his voice hurts more than I like to admit. He’s still angry over my betrayal, and I understand why. We were headed somewhere better, and now… now we are headed nowhere.
“I’m sorry you feel that way.” I really wish he didn’t. Despite all of this, there is a part of me that wants him to like me, and not just out of survival instinct. “Can I have something to wear, please?” I dare to ask.
Markus’s eyes immediately lower to my body, my nipples are hard like small diamonds, but it’s not because I’m turned on. I’m freezing. Markus can’t seem to differentiate that thought because his gaze turns heated a moment later.
“I think I like you like this. Naked and helpless. Besides, it wouldn’t be a punishment if you were comfortable. How are you going to learn your lesson if I baby you?”
“I’m going to freeze to death,” I point out, hoping he’ll go for that.
“You won’t. It’s not that cold down there. Just enough to keep you uncomfortable. The only way you can earn clothes back is if you tell me what you were planning on doing?”
“I told you. I was just going to call my parents—”
“Liar!” He grabs my arm roughly.
He drags me back to the cell. My much shorter legs can barely keep up with his large strides, and I almost trip twice. Each time, he pulls me back up by my arm like a rag doll.
By the time we are back in the cell, my chest is heaving, and panic grabs me once more, but this time it’s not because Markus is here; it’s the fear of him leaving again. I’m lonely, so incredibly lonely.
Shoving me back in the room, he turns to leave, and I grab his arm and make a pathetic attempt to pull him back. “Please, don’t go.”
It’s a feeble a
ttempt, and I think the only reason he stops walking out is because he is so surprised by my begging.
That makes two of us.
But every time I think about him leaving, my pride goes out the window. I’m so fucking desperate for him not to leave. Desperate for his touch, his company. I’ve grown accustomed to him, and now he’s gone. It’s just me and the cold now, and I hate it.
“Please, just stay here with me. Just for a little while.”
“Whatever game you are playing, you’re not going to win,” he half growls, half slurs.
“No game. I just don’t want to be alone anymore. Please.”
He shakes his head, but his body is leaning closer as if it has already made up its mind. He pulls his arm from my hold, and I immediately miss the contact. I step closer once more, reaching out for him, but he shoves me away like I’m nothing more than an annoying bug.
Stumbling backward, I crash into the wall, scuffing my shoulder against the brick wall. Even with the tears in my eyes, I can see the conflict in his eyes. He is one second away from staying, from rushing toward me, and checking my shoulder is okay.
“Please…” I beg one final time, and I see the resolve crumbling in his eyes. Those crumbles fall away completely when his eyes zoom in on my shoulder, where I now feel something trickle down.
I tilt my head down to look at my skin to find it cut open and bleeding. I don’t even feel the pain that should accompany the wound.
What I do feel is Markus moving around in the cell, heading straight for me.
When I look up again, he is right in front of me, his fingers wrap around my arm once more, but this time his touch is gentler, kinder as he inspects the wound.
“It’s nothing…” I tell him, and he must agree because he looks away from the wound and into my eyes. With a deep groan, he flops down onto the unforgiving ground, taking me down with him. I don’t object or fight him at all.
Quite the opposite, actually. As soon as he is sitting on the floor with his back resting against the wall, I curl up in his lap like a fucking cat. It’s sickening how drawn to him I am like a moth to a flame, like an addict to their drug of choice.
I might be able to chalk it up to the lack of human contact and my body being in a constant state of cold, but deep down, I know it’s more than that.
He wraps his arms around me, and I sigh at the warmth. It feels like he’s giving me a hug. I cuddle into him, unable to get close enough. I’ve never craved anything so much in my life as I’m craving Markus right now.
I don’t want an inch of space between us. I want to be engulfed by his body, by his warmth, and his strength. I want him to surround me in every way, and for once, I don’t care about the consequences. I don’t care about what may happen tomorrow. All I care about is the now and him being here with me.
The next time I wake up, that imaginary safety I was feeling when Markus was holding me is gone, and so is his warmth. I blink my eyes open, and I’m greeted with the familiar gray brick of my cell. The only difference is, I’m not shivering like normal. It takes me a moment to gather my wits and realize a large, heavy sweater is draped over my naked body.
Jackknifing into a seated position, I hold the sweatshirt out in front of me. It’s dark gray, size extra large, and even before I bring it to my nose, I know it’s his.
Taking a deep breath, I inhale his unique scents, letting them soothe me before pulling the sweater on over my head and down my body. Warmth encompasses me. I’m protected even without him here. A tiny brief smile tugs onto my lips, and I wrap my arms around myself.
He stayed with me.
Then left me his shirt.
It might not be much, but it’s something.
It’s enough to give me hope.
If that’s a good or bad thing, I do not know.
20
Markus
One week. That’s how long I’ve managed to keep her locked in the cell. It’s been hell, and I’ve drunk almost every bottle of liquor in the house to cope with it. I don’t want to admit it, but a part of me doesn’t just want her. It needs her. I can still feel her fragile body pressed against mine as she nuzzled into my chest, seeking my touch. I tell myself it’s because she’s had limited human contact for days, but it’s more than that.
It was like she threw caution to the wind completely and gave herself over to me. When I put her down, she shivered, the cold returning to her body, and as heartless as I am, as mean of a fucker as I’ve been known to be, I couldn’t stand there and watch her slight body tremble. I took my sweater off and gave it to her like the gentlemen that I’m not.
I take some Advil to ward off the headache that’s pulsing to life behind my eyes and make some breakfast. I take my time preparing it and think of what’s coming today.
Lucca will arrive this evening and help me with the last-ditch effort of keeping Fallon in line. If this doesn’t work, then I don’t fucking know what will.
Cooking breakfast, I dish up the scrambled eggs and sausage and place a piece of toast on the plate. Then, I pour a glass of orange juice and put it on the table.
I make myself a plate as well and do the same. Today will be the first time we’ve shared a meal together in days, and I won’t lie. I’m eager for her company. With everything set up, I head downstairs. Retrieving my keys from my pocket, I unlock the door to the cell and push it open.
My heart clenches in my chest when I find Fallon lying on her side, the sweatshirt I left her encompassing her body. Fuck. A wound of possession reopens in my chest. Mine. All fucking mine. There is something about seeing her in my clothes, and it isn’t an emotion I can even put into words.
Pushing the door open a little more, it creaks, and she wakes with a startle, pushing up into a sitting position, her sleepy eyes land right on me. Her brows pinch together in confusion as she looks at my hands, and I realize she thinks I’m coming to deliver breakfast.
“Have you learned your lesson?” I ask like a parent scolding their child.
Fallon pushes up off the floor, her legs a little unsteady. I clench my jaw and tighten my hand into a fist to stop myself from reaching out to her. I cannot treat her like a delicate flower, not when I’m the one that’s going to pluck all the pretty petals off of her.
“Do I… do I get to come upstairs?” The hope that radiates out of her shatters me.
“If you’ve learned your lesson.”
Rushing toward me, she nearly trips over her own feet, and this time I don’t stop myself from catching her. My fingers connect with her hip, and I steady her as she crashes into my chest, hardly moving me with the impact of her body.
Peering up at me through her lashes, her gaze is a mix of disbelief and exhaustion. I can tell she is tired, the bags underneath her eyes are dark, and her skin is puffy from days of crying. Her anguish is a pierce to the heart. I didn’t want to have to keep her in the basement. Truly, I didn’t. But she fucking betrayed me, she fucking broke my trust.
Taking a step back, I put a little distance between our bodies. “Come. I made breakfast, and then I want you to take a bath.”
She nods her head almost stiffly. I start for the door and realize within a second that she isn’t moving. Twisting around, I find her just standing there, staring at the open door. Did the solitude hurt that badly?
I extend my hand out to her. “Your breakfast is getting cold.” The growl of my voice causes her to snap out of it, and her eyes dart to my hand. A visible shiver slices through her, and then she places her hand in mine. I shouldn’t hold her hand, I know that. It will make her think things, but I don’t really care right now.
Her hand feels so dainty in mine, soft and smooth. It takes great strength to stop myself from stroking the top of her hand with my thumb, but I manage.
Together we head up the stairs, and I ignore how perfect her hand feels in mine. It’s stupid to even consider her being anything to me. I just locked her in a cold basement for a week straight for defying me. If she feels anythi
ng for me, it’s going to be hate.
When we reach the table, I release her hand. She slides into her seat, and I follow, doing the same across from her. A symbolic feeling of normality washes over me, having her sit and eat with me. I guess I wasn’t aware how much I’d grown used to having her here.
Fallon doesn’t even blink. She picks up her fork and practically inhales her food. I eat just as fast and by the time she is done, I’m finishing up as well. She moves to pick up the plates, stepping right into her duties from before, but I shake my head, stopping her.
“No. We can clean up later. I want you to go take a bath.”
“Okay… are you going to come too?” she asks, almost like she is scared I will.
I shake my head. “Not this time. I have something to do before my friend gets here.”
“Your friend?” She sounds astonished.
“Yes, someone I trust and work with,” I explain. She looks unsure and nervous about someone coming over. I’m guessing more so at the mention of him working with me. Fallon isn’t stupid. She must have figured out by now what kind of work I do, which means my work associates are just as bad as me.
I gesture for her to lead the way, and she hesitantly does. I’d have given her a shower, but doing so would’ve made her comfortable, and the point of being in the basement was the opposite.
As she walks up the stairs ahead of me, I notice how thin her legs are. Did she lose weight while in the basement? She never finished her meals when I brought her food, but I didn’t think anything of it until now.
She strips out of her panties and my sweater and eagerly heads for the bathroom.
While she is in the tub, I sit on the bed, going over the plan in my head. When I asked him for a favor a week ago, I wasn’t really sure what I was going to do.
