Affliction

by Jenika Snow

  Chapter 10

  The car ride to wherever Cameron was taking me was done in silence. The only sounds I let penetrate were that of the vehicle moving forward and the rush of the wind that came through a crack in the window when I pushed the automatic button and rolled it down.

  I didn’t need that rush of air, didn’t need to make it seem like I was escaping either, even if I was. I wanted something to drown out the noise inside of me, the confusion and screaming that was driving me crazy.

  I don’t know how long we drove, but it had been hours. I was lost in my own thoughts, but I was aware of my surroundings enough to know I was going far away. Maybe that was for the best.

  Maybe leaving the grim horror of my world behind was what I needed. I was tired, but I couldn’t fall asleep, couldn’t allow that freedom to take me away, even for a little while.

  It had been dark, late when we’d left my apartment, but now the sun was starting to rise, the sky being painted a pink hue, maybe promising a new beginning. But who was I kidding? I didn’t have a new start anywhere. I had a future that would be laid out, set forth, planned, expected, but only for two weeks.

  Cameron would control everything, and as much as I should loathe that and instinctively want to fight it, a part of me welcomed it. A side of me that didn’t want to think or deal with anything, not even myself, would embrace the control I’d given him.

  The car started to slow, and I turned and glanced out Cameron’s window. I could see him watching me out of the corner of my eye, but I wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t give him that power yet.

  When the vehicle came to a complete stop, I stared at the massive home in front of us. I still felt Cameron watching me, maybe appraising what I thought or how I felt. Right now I was just numb.

  “Welcome home for the next two weeks.”

  I did look at him then, his voice deep, making me feel like I was on a wire, these flames barely licking at me from below.

  The back door was opened, and a rush of wind blew in, shifting my hair over my shoulders, having the smell of blood rising up, this metallic scent that made me sick. Cameron got out of the car first, but I sat there, not sure what to say, how to actually move.

  I was frozen in place, my mind a whirlwind, my thoughts jumbled together. Cameron leaned forward, bracing his hand on the frame of the door, his focus trained right on me.

  “The sooner you come inside, the sooner you’ll be acclimated to the situation.”

  His voice was smooth, maybe even coaxing. I wasn’t a fool to think he would be gentle, that he’d give me time. I wasn’t stupid enough to think he cared about my feelings whatsoever.

  Of course I had no choice. He’d held up his part of the deal, and now I needed to as well. In the end I reached out, slipped my hand into his, and allowed him to help me out of the SUV. I wasn’t all prisoner. I’d agreed to do this, to be his, and I’d follow through with it. But what frightened me most of all was the fact that fear wasn’t the only thing I felt.

  Arousal burned in the deepest depths of me as well.

  I didn’t have much time to take in the house once outside the vehicle. It was big, with giant white pillars in front, the lighting pointing to the double front doors, and the windows grand with this filigree design covering the glass. It was an elaborate, extraordinary prison, one meant to keep others out, maybe even keep some in.

  I noticed several men stationed close to the house, and knew there were probably more hidden in the shadows. I didn’t know much about Cameron, nothing really, but I had a feeling I’d learn a lot about him in my time here.

  We entered the house, and a man in a dark suit greeted Cameron. They spoke low, too low for me to hear what was being said, but I was too focused on my surroundings anyway. Dark granite, hardwood, and a crystal chandelier made up the foyer.

  There was a staircase in front of us, one of those like I’d seen in Gone with the Wind, which started on both sides, curved upward, and branched off in opposite directions. I’d never been around so many lavish things, such taste and expanse.

  I turned in a half circle, gasping slightly when I realized Damien stood right behind me. His dark eyes and aloofness set me on edge. This man was dangerous; that was clear. He might not show emotions, might not even experience them, but what he had was loyalty to Cameron.

  It was that loyalty that made a man violent, willing to do anything and everything to ensure this went exactly how it was supposed to. That went a long way in ensuring I was kept in line, even if I had no plans on making the situation difficult. After two weeks I’d move on, live my life—or try to at least.

  Damien stayed silent, his composure, his ramrod stance, bringing this frigid chill to my body. The tattoos I could see that crept up his neck made him seem even more imposing, even more menacing. No wonder Cameron kept him close. This man screamed danger.

  “This way,” Cameron said deeply, softly. I tore my gaze from Damien and followed Cameron up the stairs, the carpet beneath the hardwood making my footsteps light, silent. This home seemed to go on forever, and I found myself noticing the lack of warmth here. No, this wasn’t a home. This was a place where Cameron stayed.

  We continued down a long hallway, the few pictures I saw seeming dark and gloomy, depressing and frightening. Splashes of red and black, twisted birds with their beaks open, crying out. I felt like those birds, like those paintings. I was trapped, my world seeming bleak and one-dimensional.

  I had no escape, not just because I was now with Cameron but because my world before him had been a dead end. I’d been trapped in my own roundabout, going in a circle until that’s all I knew.

  He finally stopped at a set of polished dark wooden doors, the grain moving vertically, the gloss almost blinding. When Cameron pushed the doors open, turned on the light, and stepped aside, I didn’t hesitate to walk in, to accept this with open arms.

  Open arms? Who am I kidding? I’m accepting this on my hands and knees, crawling, submitting, pleading for the answer to come.

  And it would come, in some form, in some way. And it would be Cameron saying the words to me, telling me what the future held.

  I pushed all thoughts out of my head. Having a clean slate, a white wall was how I would manage, how I would keep my sanity.

  The room was large, the bed to my left imposing. Dark wood, fixtures, and everything in between told me this was a room that held no warmth, no life. The curtains were partially opened, but I couldn’t see outside, not with the sun barely rising and the glare on the glass. I stared at my reflection, distant, blurry. It’s how I felt on the inside too.

  Cameron shut the door, the click resounding, as if sealing my fate, wax on an envelope. I watched him, all hard muscle bunching under his expensive suit. His tattoos peeking out from under the cuffs and collar were the only indication of the monster who lay beneath all that refinery.

  “You’ll sleep in here, with me.” His stance screamed he wasn’t about to bend to this, that he wouldn’t give me an out. “The bathroom is there,” he said and pointed to a partially closed door to the right. “Clothing in your size is already in the dresser and armoire. You’ll shower, eat, and then sleep.”

  He wouldn’t start this now, wouldn’t break me before the sun fully rose? I saw the way he lifted his brow. Were my thoughts projected on my face? Had I said those words out loud?

  “I’m not a good man, Sofia, but I won’t be a bastard…not at first.” He stared right at me, looked through me. “Now, bathe, dress, and food will be here when you’re done. I have some work to do, so you’ll have to eat and sleep alone for this first time…” He moved closer to me, and I swear my heart jumped to my throat, trying to suffocate me, strangle me. “But for the next two weeks, Sofia…” He reached out and cupped my chin, tilting my head back, making me look into his dark, bottomless eyes. “For the next two weeks you’ll be mine.” I felt him smooth his thumb over my jawline. “When I’m done with you, walking will seem impossible.”

  Although I�
��d known he wouldn’t go easy on me, I just hoped I came out of this alive, that I was still breathing in the literal sense.

  Chapter 11

  For a moment, just a second, just a sliver of time, I didn’t know where I was, didn’t have any worries or cares. It was that moment right before consciousness, right before light dawned on me and I remembered my reality, when I drifted through this pleasant feeling.

  That second right before being fully awake.

  That’s how I felt that first time waking up in Cameron’s bed, surrounded by his things, smelling his scent saturating the air.

  I stretched, the sheet moving along my body, the silk of the nightgown I’d found in the dresser after I got out of the shower feeling smooth on my skin. Everything he’d gotten for me, every outfit, every stitch of clothing seemed intimate, handpicked by him.

  Although that was most likely not the case. I’m sure he’d had someone do it, paid them to pick out the silk nighties, the lace bras and panties, and the hundred other outfits that lined the drawers and shelves.

  But the thought of Cameron touching these things, picking them out just for me, wanting to see me in them, tear them from my body, had every part of me on fire. There was a knock on the door before it was opened.

  I gathered the sheet to my chest and pushed myself up. An older woman came in, dressed in a standard maid outfit. Her graying hair was piled in a tight bun at the nape of her neck, and the clean linens she had in her hand were stark white.

  She set the sheets down and turned to face me. “Do you require assistance getting ready before breakfast?”

  I clenched the sheets in my hand. “Assistance?” Last night after I’d showered, there’d been a tray of food on the bed. I’d been so wired, so worked up, sleep had come instant, had been prolonged.” I stared at the woman. “Having people wait on me, interacting with them, the possibility of them actually knowing why I was here, was too much. “I’m fine getting ready myself.”

  She nodded. “Breakfast will be served downstairs. Mr. Ashton is already waiting for you.” She then left me alone, and I relaxed. This was all so weird on its own.

  I glanced at the spot beside me and ran my hand over the perfectly placed sheet and comforter. It was cold to the touch, letting me know Cameron hadn’t been in here all night. That confused but also pleased me, like this weight had been lifted from me, even though a part of me wanted that heaviness.

  I waited until the maid left before I got out of bed and got cleaned up in the bathroom. Once I was dressed, staring down at myself, rubbing the lace material of the dress between my fingers, I finally took a deep breath. This was the first day of the rest of my life, right? Or at least my life for the next fourteen days.

  I opened the bedroom door and just stood there for a second, listening, watching. The upper floor was quiet, the dark walls and equally ominous decor making things appear cold.

  The sooner you do this, the sooner you’ll see how things go.

  The quicker this will be done.

  Steeling myself, trying to grab on to my courage, I stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind me. My palms were sweating, my mouth dry. I forced myself to walk, made myself do this, be strong.

  I’d made this agreement, and I needed to see it through. When I saw that black bird painting, his eyes so dark, yet seeming to stare right into my soul, this chill raced up my spine.

  I don’t know how long I stood there, the dark colors mixing together, his beak open, his cry silent, yet I could hear it in my head. I turned and made my way down the stairs, assuming I even knew where the dining room was where I was to meet up with Cameron. Everything was so still, so…lifeless.

  When I finally found the dining room, the wide double doors were engraved with this detail around the edges, trying to soften it, make it appear gentle. It failed, or maybe that was because the man who owned this place, resided within these walls, was cold like ice and unbreakable like granite.

  He didn’t look at me as I entered, but then again I hadn’t assumed he would. I’d only been in his presence such a short time, but he was the type of man that moved at his own pace. He didn’t stop what he was doing for anyone.

  A side door opened, and I got a glimpse of the kitchen. Several servants came in, silver platters in their hands, their focus trained on anything but the man at the head of the table. I took a second to look around, glanced at the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined one whole wall, the dark accented decor, and the frigidness I felt surrounding me. I was still standing there when the servants left.

  “Sit, Sofia,” Cameron said, still looking down at the paper in front of him.

  I made my way toward the seat across from him. The table was long, easily seating sixteen. Yet I still felt as though we were seated intimately, like he was right beside me.

  The plate in front of me was white and empty. I reached out, seeing my hand shaking, feeling the nerves in me rise. I had my fingers wrapped around the crystal, the orange juice in it almost trembling from my shaking hand.

  “There’s nothing to be nervous about.”

  I glanced up, startled, surprised to find that Cameron was staring right at me. He grabbed his cup and took a long drink, watching me over the rim. When he set the cup down and leaned back, I felt on display despite my body being covered.

  “You slept well?”

  I nodded. “You didn’t sleep with me.” I meant it in the most basic of senses, him beside me, the mattress dipping from his powerful weight. But I suppose it could be taken literally and figuratively.

  “That was the only night I won’t be in bed with you.”

  I had no doubt about that.

  “Eat up, because you’ll need your energy.”

  It was hard to be hungry, to have any kind of appetite when my stomach was in knots. The question I wanted to ask him was on the tip of my tongue, yet I didn’t know what the ground rules were, didn’t know what he did or didn’t want me to know.

  And I won’t know until I ask him.

  But I kept my mouth shut. I grabbed some fruit and a piece of buttered toast and started eating, keeping my mind and mouth occupied so I didn’t cross that line. Silence stretched between us, but I embraced it.

  “If you have things on your mind, it’s best we get that done now.”

  The bread was dry in my mouth, and when I went to swallow, it lodged in my throat. I coughed, grabbed my water, and took a long drink. Cameron was staring at me, watching me the same way a hawk probably did the mouse before it snatched it up and devoured it.

  “What exactly do you plan on doing with me?” Sex was the obvious, but what I meant, what was on my mind, twisting me up, was how far Cameron wanted to go, how far he’d push me. Would he break me? Did he want to ruin me?

  “You’re worried I’ll hurt you.” Cameron didn’t state it like a question. “You’re worried what you’ve agreed to is a fate far worse than what you were in.” Again it wasn’t a question.

  I looked down, not responding, because he already knew that was what I wondered, what I feared. I couldn’t deny my attraction to him, couldn’t lie to myself and say he didn’t make me feel this rush of awareness.

  He was a dangerous man who’d killed someone for me, because I’d asked. He could do whatever he wanted to me and I’d have no choice but to accept it, not just because I’d agreed, but also because a small part of me craved it. This twisted part of me wanted whatever he had to offer.

  The pain and pleasure, the coldness yet warmth he gave me with just a look. This man was a monster, and I was more than willing to let him destroy me.

  What was wrong with me? What kind of person did that make me?

  When I heard his chair scraping, I glanced up. Cameron stood, set his napkin down on the table, and came closer. I was frozen in place, unable to breathe, to even think.

  On instinct I rose, maybe to appear bigger, stronger. It didn’t help, though, not when the only thing I could hear was the thundering of my heart in my ears and t
he feeling of my belly doing flips.

  And then he was right in front of me.

  He was so close, his body, his presence so consuming. For long seconds he didn’t speak, didn’t even move. He reached out and touched a lock of my hair, toying with the strands between his fingers, focused solely on it.

  “All I want, what I desire, is your surrender.” His voice was pitched low, so low I knew if anyone else had been in the room they wouldn’t have heard him. “I’m not a good man.” He said it so matter-of-factly that I had no doubts whatsoever that this man knew who and what he was. “I’m a killer, a drug lord.” He took another step closer. “I rule the underground with apathy and violence.” His chest was so wide, so powerful that it took up my entire view.

  “I know who and what you are.” But did I really?

  He shook his head slowly. “No, I don’t think you do, Sofia. I don’t think you do at all.”

  I was sucking air into my lungs, hard, fast, yet I couldn’t breathe.

  “I feel you’re my weakness,” he said softly, his voice deep, like a knife skating along my body, barely touching me, but the threat of getting cut was right there at the surface. He lifted his head then, staring me in the eyes, his gaze so cold, so hard. I was small, miniature compared to him. “And having a weakness isn’t something I’m comfortable with.”

  I shivered after he spoke, not because of the chill in the air and not because of his dark, deep voice. I did it because of the way he was looking at me. I didn’t need to know Cameron personally to understand a man like him didn’t do weakness. He was all strength, all power.

  Before I knew what was happening, he leaned forward, reached around me, and pushed the plates and silverware to the side. The china clinked together, the glass spilling water along the white tablecloth. And then he had his hands on my waist, lifting me onto the hard, unforgiving top.