by Bella Jewel
“I’m sorry,” I say, backing up but giving him a small smile. “I didn’t know anyone was in here.”
He chuckles, shrugging. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Come in, sit down—I’ll play nice.”
I shift nervously. “Does William know you’re here?”
He shakes his head. “George knows I’m here. I’ll see Will when he gets back. Keep me company while I wait.”
I hesitate. William wouldn’t like me spending time with Ben, I’m almost sure of it, but I find myself walking towards him anyway. He notices my wary expression and laughs, patting the seat beside him.
“I swear, I won’t bite.”
I smile weakly, and sit myself down next to him. He smiles, and shows me the book he’s holding and I beam. He’s reading To Kill A Mockingbird. It’s one book I find myself in here reading over and over again, fascinated with the brilliance of the writing and the story. Seeing Ben read it makes my chest swell with happiness, and a certain sense of kinship. I shift closer to him.
“Do you like it?”
“Atticus is a legend.” He grins.
I giggle softly. “You know, he became a very well-known character.”
He winks at me. “I can see why.”
“So, why are you here in William’s library?”
He keeps his eyes on my face. “I like it in here. I’ve always been fascinated by his collection of books. Most people like one or two things, but not Will. He just has a bit of everything.”
“He’s quite complex,” I say, staring around the beautiful space.
“Indeed. So tell me about yourself, Emelyn?”
I stiffen, and if he notices, he doesn’t say anything. “There’s really nothing to tell.”
He tilts his head to the side, pinning me with that intense blue gaze. He’s so like William, yet so completely different. “I find that hard to believe. What’s your family like?”
If he doesn’t notice me stiffen this time, there’s something wrong with him. He places a hand on my arm. “Have I said something wrong?”
I feel like a lump forms and lodges itself in my throat. I remember Lanthie, the only family I’ve ever had, and tears well in my eyes. I really just wanted to go one day without feeling the overpowering guilt that consumes my body daily.
“Shit, Emelyn, I’m sorry.”
I shake my head from side to side, but I can’t stop the tears from falling. Ben catches one with his finger, and turns me to face him. His face is full of concern for me. “I’ve upset you.”
“It’s not your fault,” I manage to whisper. “It’s just...I...”
“What is it?” he says, taking one of my hands. His comfort is nice. It warms me from the inside out. “You can talk to me, or we can talk about something else. Just don’t cry. I’d hate if I was the reason for your tears.”
The urge to talk to him is something I’ve not experienced when thinking about Lanthie. I suppose telling a stranger seems like a better way to go when struggling. They’re less judgmental, and far more understanding. People always are if they don’t know you. I’ve wanted to tell William about my feelings, but I feel like he already knows so much about me that he just won’t understand.
So, I turn to Ben. “I am just struggling with the death of a family member right now, and even though it happened a while ago, it’s been bothering me lately.”
He tilts his head to the side and studies me. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
Tears prick my eyes again, and he smooths a thumb over the hand he’s got resting in his.
“I didn’t have a great upbringing. My mother was poor, and always doing drugs. She never paid attention to my sister, Lanthie, and I. I was all Lanthie had, she was only three when she died, and I feel like it’s partly my fault. I was...caught up when it happened. I couldn’t get to her, even though I tried. She climbed our balcony and fell to her death. I couldn’t get to her, Ben...I...”
My voice trails off, and I begin to sob. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me close to him, soothing me. “That isn’t your fault, Emelyn. Things happen in life sometimes we can’t control, you couldn’t stop her from climbing that balcony. It wasn’t your duty to, it was your mother’s.”
“It was mine,” I cry. “I knew mother couldn’t do it.”
“Did you purposely allow yourself to be occupied?”
I cringe at the thought of him holding me down. My body trembles. “No,” I whisper in a broken, ragged tone.
“Then how could it possibly be your fault?”
“I should have fought harder. I should have done everything I could...I should have...”
He presses a finger to my lips. “You could have done everything, you could have fought with everything you are, and she could have still gone over that railing. Or you could have saved her and she could have escaped one day when you weren’t there. It’s not your fault, angel; you have to believe that.”
“She was just a little girl. She looked up to me.”
“And you didn’t let her down,” he whispers.
He pulls me into his arms, stroking his hand down my hair. He just holds me there like that for a while, neither of us speaking. It’s nice to feel like someone cares, just for a second.
“Thank you, Ben,” I whisper finally. “Sometimes I feel like I just can’t talk to anyone. There’s so much I have to keep inside because I’m just too scared to let myself open up to anyone. I feel like I just don’t have anyone I trust. So thank you for just letting me speak.”
“I’m always here to talk to, Emelyn. You just have to ask.”
“Benjamin.”
I hear the loud, demanding tone, and I jerk out of Ben’s arms to see William standing at the door. My heart leaps into my throat as I consider how bad this situation must look. One, I’m in Ben’s arms, and two, I just confided a piece of myself to him so easily. William doesn’t look at me as he walks in, standing in front of us. Ben stands, smiling as though nothing has happened.
“I just dropped by to see how you were, but George said you were out. I was waiting in here for you when Emelyn popped in.”
“I can see that,” William grates out. “Go to my office, we’ll talk there.”
Ben nods, and turns to me. “Anytime, Emelyn. Remember?”
“Thanks,” I whisper, staring at my feet.
I hear Ben leave, and I slowly turn to William. He’s not looking at me; he’s staring over at one of the shelves, his expression empty. He’s mad, I know he is and I understand why he would be, but he doesn’t understand that it meant nothing. I don’t have feelings for Ben. I was just looking for a friend. I don’t feel like I can seek that in William because of the situation we’re in.
“William?” I whisper.
“Did it feel nice for you to give him that piece of yourself, Number Thirteen?”
My chest clenches at the iciness in his tone.
“I didn’t...”
He spins towards me, his eyes narrowing with something more than anger. His broad shoulders move with every labored breath he takes.
“You were touching him.”
“He was just...”
“You were in his arms.”
“It wasn’t...”
“You confided in him.”
“William, please...”
“You are mine,” he barks.
I stop speaking, and wrap my arms around myself. “You feel betrayed, I get that, but you’re over reacting...”
“Betrayed?” he snaps. “I feel more than betrayed. I’ve done everything I can for you, Number Thirteen, and it’s taken everything for you to give yourself to me, yet you give yourself to him within a minute, as if you’ve known him a lifetime.”
“You’re reading it wrong.”
“How am I reading it, then?” he whispers, his voice on the verge of trembling with rage. “What did you think he would do for you that I couldn’t? Did you think that he would fix this? That he would make it better? Do you think I can’t give you that comfort? If
you were hurting, then you should have come to me.”
“I wasn’t doing anything wrong,” I cry. “I understand you’re hurt, but I wasn’t breaking any rules.”
He shakes his head, and then he lifts something out of his pocket. I recognize it as a phone. He opens it and presses it to his ear.
“George,” he orders. “Library, now.”
I feel my body seize and I snap my gaze up to him. “What are you doing?”
He doesn’t answer me; he just stares into nothing. George enters the room a moment later, and stops at the door. “Yes sir.”
“Take Number Thirteen. She is to be chained in the basement. She will miss out on the rewards today. She will sit until she admits what she has done. Do not feed her. Do not give her water. Leave the lights out. If she insists on stating that she feels alone, then we’ll let her feel just that. Alone.”
“What?” I cry, shaking my head and backing up. “William, I did nothing wrong.”
“Take her, now,” William growls.
“You’re punishing me?” I scream, jerking as George takes my arms. “For what? For having a friend? What about everything we’ve shared?”
“It’s because of everything we shared that I’m doing this,” he roars.
“You’re jealous,” I bellow. “You’re jealous because I spoke to him. You’re jealous because you feel betrayed. Punish me yourself, you son-of-a-bitch!”
“Take her now, George.”
“How could you?” I yell as George drags me out of the room. “How could you?”
He doesn’t answer me, but my heart is broken. He’s punishing me. I thought we shared something special; I thought that we had something that went beyond what he had with everyone else, but I was wrong. When it comes down to the black and white of it, I’m still just a number.
An empty, meaningless number.
~*~*~*~
NUMBER THIRTEEN
It’s so dark down here, and now night has fallen and the house has gone still. I can hear nothing but the sounds of my own breathing. He left me here. He just sent me down here, not giving me a chance to explain. He was mad; I understand that. If he overheard me, then he would have gotten it wrong. I know I opened myself to Ben for a moment, but what does he expect? He’s hurt me, he’s kept things from me—he’s punished me.
I close my eyes, trying to let sleep take me, but there’s no hope. I can’t drift off when I’m chained to this wall. If I had done wrong, I could admit it and apologize, but I didn’t. That’s what it comes down to. I spoke to a friend; I let myself hurt for a small moment, but that’s not a crime. I won’t cry about this, though. I can’t. I’m swimming with so many emotions that crying will only cause me to break down more.
I hang my head, and eventually, I drift off.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
WILLIAM
I pace the room, my chest tight with anger. If I’m being honest with myself, I’ll admit it’s more than hurt. I feel betrayed. She gave Benjamin a piece of herself. She let him in; she let him hold her. I’ve worked hard for that kind of trust. I’ve worked hard to show her that good people are rewarded and bad people are punished, and he just walks in and she gives it all over?
Hurts.
I run my fingers through my hair, growling. I did the right thing punishing her; I did. She needs to understand that I’m the only person she can turn to. She needs to understand that I can be her everything. She opened herself to stranger, and she let him help her when she wouldn’t let me. This is my home; she knows how protective I am over the girls. Over her. She had no right to...
My body stiffens. My mind spins.
I drop to my knees, gripping my head. She had no right to what? Have a friend? Express her inner hurt? I’m punishing her for feeling. What kind of person does that?
I’m wrong. I know I am. I’m trying everything to convince myself I’m not, but I am. I’m being the one thing I never ever wanted to be—a bully. I put her down there, and I looked past her feelings and only thought of my own. I shove myself to my feet, my heart pounding. I let her down. I made a mistake.
I run from the room.
~*~*~*~
NUMBER THIRTEEN
I feel hands on my own, unshackling me. Then I’m being lifted into a hard set of arms. I blink awake and inhale, and right away I know who I’m with. He came for me. Something swells in my chest; I don’t know what it is, but it’s strong. I feel him taking the steps quickly before rushing down the halls. I try to see him, but the light is far too bright, and my eyes burn when I try to open them.
“William?” I whisper.
“I’m sorry, Emelyn,” he murmurs.
He walks me into the bathroom, and gently lowers me to the ground. I hear the sound of the bath running, and I finally manage to focus my vision enough to see him sitting on the side of the tub, just staring down at the water. He’s ashamed of himself; I can see it in his expression. His jaw is tight, his hands are clenched, and his body is rigid. I push myself to my knees, and I crawl over to him.
I place my hand on his leg and he flinches.
I don’t know what I can say to him because I’m hurt, too. I’m hurt because he so easily shoved me away, yet at the same time, I’m so filled with emotion because he came back to me. He stopped my punishment; he went against everything he knows because he knows he did wrong. That’s something a man like William doesn’t do easily. So I know what it’s doing to him inside.
“It’s okay,” I whisper.
“I made a mistake,” he says, his voice empty.
“So did I.”
He turns to me, his expression fierce. “You confided in someone, you had every right to do that. I did not have the right to punish you for it.”
“You made one mistake, William.”
“I fucked up,” he yells, gripping the sides of his head. “I’m here to do something, and I failed.”
I get up on my knees, reaching up to take his face. “You have not failed.”
He stares down at me, stroking a finger over my cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
I stretch up further, pressing my lips to his. He makes a strangled sound and puts his hands on either side of my face, deepening the kiss. Then he pulls back and stops the water running before reaching forward and taking my top, gently lifting it over my head. I let him. I know he needs this. The more I think about it, I even think I need it.
My pants go next, and then I’m being lifted in his arms and lowered into the warm, sweet-smelling water.
The warmth surrounds me, and I find myself groaning as my aching body suddenly is soothed. William sits me forward, and he presses a warm cloth against my skin, rubbing it up and down. I moan in delight and close my eyes, enjoying the moment. He washes my back, then moves up to my neck before slipping around the front to my breasts. He massages a vanilla-scented soap into my skin. I turn to him, meeting his gaze.
“Please, get in with me.”
He shakes his head, continuing to clean and caress me.
“William,” I breathe. “Please.”
“Hush,” he murmurs.
He runs the cloth over my breasts again before sliding it down between my legs. Pleasure sparks through me, and I find myself spreading my thighs. He lifts his eyes to mine, slightly shocked, but also fully aroused. His lips part slightly, and his gaze travels down to my parted thighs. I take a risk, and grip his hand, sliding his fingers between my legs. The warm water flowing around my sex only increases my arousal.
“Al naibii de perfecta,” he hisses. So fucking perfect
“W-w-what is that?” I whimper as his fingers slide through my flesh.
“So fucking perfect.”
“I mean the language,” I gasp as he inserts one, long finger into my sex.
“Romanian,” he growls.
Oh. That explains his dazzling, dark looks.
“William,” I whimper as he drags his finger out and then slips it back in.
He leans in, pressing his lips to my ear lobes
and gently sucking. “Baby,” he murmurs.
Baby.
My heart flutters.
His fingers tilt upwards, finding that sweet spot, and my body arches out of the water as he runs the tips over my sensitive nerves. I tighten around his fingers, feeling myself rising further and further towards release. When his thumb finds my clit and he rubs gently, I explode. My body slides down in the water, and his hand lashes out to hold me up as I cry out his name and tremble until all the pleasure has been wrung from me.
Then I’m in William’s arms. He lifts me from the bath and wraps a towel around me before walking us out to his bed. The mattress feels soft and warm against my back when he lays me down. He opens the towel, staring down at me, his eyes full of desire and power. He runs a finger down my belly and gently grazes my still sensitive clit, then looks up at me.
“Come to me,” I whisper. “Let me feel you.”
He hesitates a moment, but he climbs onto the bed and positions himself next to me. I roll to my side, pressing my breasts against his chest as I reach around him, running my fingers up and down his back. I take hold of his shirt, and he lets me pull it over his head. He discards his pants quickly, and then he lies beside me again. I lean forward, pressing my face to his chest and inhaling. I never want to forget how he smells.
I place my hand on his side, and I run it down. I reach his hips and I slide my fingertips over his skin, loving how smooth it is. I can feel him, hard and pulsing, against my belly. I want to give him something. I want to taste him.
I lick my lips and look up at him. He’s watching me, his expression tight with want. I decide to take the chance, and I slowly lower my body.
“Emelyn,” he rasps.
“I want to,” I breathe, pressing a kiss to his stomach, enjoying how his muscles bunch against my lips.
Then I move lower.
I feel his erection slide against my cheek, and my entire body shudders. I turn my head, feeling the soft skin slide against mine. It’s nice. I raise my hand and curl it around the hard, throbbing length. He groans, and I can’t help the silly grin that appears on my face. I lower my head, snaking my tongue out and running it over the crown. He sucks in a deep, ragged breath, and his hands fist in the sheets beside him.
