Unfortunately for him, it’s not the answer he’s looking for.
“Just because I drank too much and kissed you last night doesn’t mean I have feelings for you.” The fiery hatred suppressed within me suddenly ignites, fueling my next set of words for him. “How could anyone have feelings for a monster?”
Silas’ response is instantaneous as his eyes go wide with rage, and he strides toward me, extending his arms like he’s going to grab me and break me into little pieces. I flinch and move away, backing up until I hit the tree that was supporting me before. It now serves to trap me as Silas’ arms encase me on either side of my head against it.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he warns in a low voice. He holds my gaze, not backing down in the slightest for the longest moment until his furious expression finally transforms into a look of mock disappointment. “I should have known better than to think someone as unloved as you could have feelings for another human being.”
The counterpunch is successful, his verbal jab completely derailing my confidence and putting out the fire within me. Being reminded that I haven’t been romantically involved with anyone in years and that there’s not even any family left to love me on this Earth hits me hard and causes all sorts of painful feelings to fester within me again. I can’t help the ensuing broken look on my face or the silent tears that stream down my cheeks.
I start to feel tiny drops of water on my skin as the somber clouds begin to cry their own tears. After Silas looks up to the sky to acknowledge the approaching rain, he drops his arms from the tree and takes a step back. He seems satisfied that he has made his point with me, but just when I think it’s all over, he grabs me by the arm and pulls me behind him, my feet barely able to find balance and keep up.
“What are you doing?” I cry out as he drags me past the campfire.
No response. No acknowledgement. Just more violent twisting of my arm as I struggle to keep up with him. I soon realize he’s taking us in the direction of the pickup truck parked nearby, the perfect shelter from the rain that’s coming down harder now.
Relief washes over me as we approach the truck, but instead of bringing me to the passenger-side door, Silas takes me to the front of the vehicle. In one swift movement, he flips me around and slams my torso against the grill on the front of the truck, holding me there with the weight of his body against me and a hand placed firmly over the back of my neck. I scream out as I try to struggle against his hold, but can barely move.
“I know how much you enjoy the rain,” Silas mocks amidst the familiar sound of clinking metal. I feel the handcuff tighten around my right wrist just before I’m pulled off of the truck and swung around by my shoulder. He pushes me forward through the sheets of rain now pouring from the sky, directing me to a tall, but thin dead tree ahead of the truck and then forcing my back against it. Before I can pull my hands away, he snatches them and yanks my arms behind the tree, securing the open end of the handcuff around my other wrist.
A growl of frustration erupts from my throat as I lunge toward Silas, desperate to expel my anger, even though being attached to the tree prevents me from coming anywhere near him. The pleased grin on his face as he turns toward the truck makes me pull even harder, but I have to stop because I’m only causing more pain in my wrists from the handcuffs.
By the time Silas reaches the truck, he’s completely soaked by the rain as am I. When he opens the door, I figure he’ll hop inside to dry off and seek refuge from the flood pouring down from the sky, but he grabs something from inside the cab instead and closes the door. He walks toward me with some kind of white cloth in hand. As he gets closer, I see it’s one of his white t-shirts, and when he starts to twist it up, my eyes go wide and I realize what he’s going to do with it.
“No. Please. I don’t need that,” I beg, my uneasy voice barely audible over the constant sound of the rain impacting everything around us. I try to turn my head away and rotate around the tree as he raises the twisted shirt toward my face, but he manages to get it over my head and pulls me by my neck with it to bring me back to him and stop my resistance. I try to recover and close my jaw, but before I can lock it in place, he secures the wet shirt between my upper and lower teeth and pulls it tight, forcing my bite open.
My struggle subsides as Silas ties off the gag at the back of my neck. I’m completely at his mercy, unable to do anything to fight back now, and I hate the powerless feeling it creates within me. In this moment I’m grateful for the rain as it at least hides the tears escaping my eyes, tears caused by feeling this utter weakness and helplessness again.
Silas takes a step back to inspect me with a satisfied grin on his face before turning back toward the truck. I can’t deny the twinge of jealously within me at seeing him enter the refuge of the cab, escaping the cold rain that continues to pour down on me. He grabs something from the back of the cab then settles into the seat and blatantly pulls the object up so that it reaches my view through the windshield to show me what he has. I instantly recognize the second wool blanket he packed for this trip as he pulls it over him all the way to his neck.
I bow my head slightly to shield my face, not only from the rain, but from the mind game Silas is trying to play with me from within the cab. Being on display for him like this as he basks in warmth and victory is not something I’m going to put up with for long. My options are limited, though. I can’t use my hands or mouth and have only a small circular area of movement around this tree.
When I glance back at the truck, I can see Silas still watching me proudly like I’m some prized wild game he caught out in the woods. It quickly becomes clear to me that I need to spoil his show.
Careful not to scrape my arms against the tree bark, I slowly rotate myself around the tree until I’m facing the opposite direction of the truck. The view is much better this way, green and beautiful and free of bipolar, psychotic monsters. With my handcuffed hands now facing the truck, I take advantage of the opportunity to raise my right middle finger to flip off Silas, holding the position long enough to ensure he gets my message.
I feel a little better after that, but once my heart rate normalizes and my body calms down from the anxiety caused by everything that just happened, the chill of the rain begins to affect me. It doesn’t take long for my drenched body to start shivering from the cold.
It’s going to be a long fucking day.
I want nothing more than to bring my arms to the front and wrap them around myself for warmth, but I settle for trying to get the same effect with my legs instead. I slowly lower my body down the tree until I’m sitting on the ground. With my knees bent, I pull my legs up as close to my torso as possible and lean forward onto them, barely able to reach far enough for my chest to touch my thighs.
It’s not a particularly comfortable position with my arms still stretched behind the tree, but I do feel slightly warmer this way. The rain lets up a bit for a while then pours down again. The dance back and forth between mist and sheets of rain continues for hours, and by the time the skies are left grey, but dry, I’m chilled to my core from being drenched over and over again by the storm.
When I hear the truck door open and slam shut, hope rises within me that this exercise might finally be over. I dread the thought of having to face Silas again after his victory, but it’ll be completely worth it if he’ll detach me from this tree and let me warm up.
Amidst the slight pattering of leftover raindrops falling from the branches of the trees around me, I can hear Silas’ footsteps approaching from the truck, but they aren’t heading in my direction. I lean to the right and see Silas moving through the woods toward our campsite nearby.
The forest only partially blocks my view of him when he gets there, so I can see most of what he’s doing as he sets up the tent that was never put up last night and takes numerous breaks to drink from his water bottle or eat a snack, surely knowing that I’m watching him with raging thirst and hunger inside me. He eventually goes back to the truc
k and returns to the campsite with the larger caliber rifle, sitting on a big rock to painstakingly inspect and adjust it for a while before he gets up and suddenly disappears into the forest.
Time moves exceptionally slowly without the distraction of watching Silas or struggling for warmth in the rain. My thoughts threaten to wander toward a certain event that occurred last night that I’m choosing to ignore while my body screams at me for its current state of misery. My arms are sore from their constant extension behind the tree, and my jaw aches from being forced open by the gag all day. I’m weak from dehydration and lack of sustenance. As I close my eyes, I feel my brain and body shutting down, giving in to the need for rest to conserve whatever energy I have left.
My next conscious thoughts are completely consumed by the coldness that surrounds me. It seems to have invaded every cell within my body, causing me to shiver under my clothes that feel damp again from what must have been more rain falling while I was sleeping.
When I open my eyes and find only complete darkness and my ears hear only the soft nighttime sounds of nature around me, it feels like I’m back in the dark room at Silas’ house all over again, but this time I don’t have the comfort of knowing he’s just down the hall. There’s no light or movement from the campsite, and when I readjust my sore body against the tree to look back toward the truck, I don’t see any evidence of Silas there, either.
The fear that swells within me at being alone out here only causes the shaking of my body to worsen. It brings me to the point of tears, but when I feel like I can’t hold them back anymore, I hear a sound coming from the campsite. It’s the rustling of the tent, and then I see the dark outline of Silas emerging from it just as a beam of light shines in my direction, blinding me momentarily.
I look away from the harsh light that remains trained toward me as Silas makes his way to me through the woods. Without a word, he moves behind the tree I’m attached to and unlocks each of the handcuffs, my wrists feeling instant relief at the same time that sharp pains assail my arms when I move them forward into a new position for the first time all day. Silas unties the gag and pulls it away from me, finally allowing my jaw to resume a normal closed position.
When Silas returns to his towering position above me, I struggle to readjust my position and get up from the ground, but he quickly scoops me up in his arms instead. As much as my instinct is to protest and insist that I do this myself, I’m grateful for the help right now, almost certain that getting up and walking through the woods would be a challenge in my current state.
“Flashlight,” he says, indicating for me to take it from the hand that’s beneath my legs helping hold me against him. I grab the flashlight from him just as he begins taking steps toward the campsite, and I shine the light on the ground in front of us in that direction.
The area ahead is dark and uninviting, prompting me to ask in a whisper, “Why didn’t you start a fire?”
Silas carefully steps over a fallen log in our path, holding me just a little tighter as he whispers back, “I don’t want the fire to be responsible for keeping you warm tonight.”
I’m suddenly not sure how happy I am to be in Silas’ arms. I fear his unpredictable side is still in control at a time when I have little physical or mental capacity to fight back.
When we enter the small clearing of the campsite, Silas immediately takes me to the dome tent, lowering to his knees to set me down gently inside. He follows me in and zips up the tent, trapping me and every bit of my fear inside with him.
In the glow of the flashlight, I can see I’m sitting on a large black sleeping bag spread out across the middle of the tent floor with a pillow at its top. The duffel bag of clothes and toiletries we brought is in the corner next to the item I want most in this entire world right now: a bottle of water.
I drop the flashlight and reach for it without even asking, quickly unscrewing the lid and downing the water so fast that some of it trickles down the sides of my face and neck. When I remove the half-empty bottle from my lips to take a break to breathe, I notice it shaking along with my hand.
Silas kicks off his shoes and comes closer to me. “Drink the rest and then we’ll get you warmed up.”
I somewhat reluctantly finish off the bottle and put the cap on to set it aside, unsure of what to expect next. I’m surprised when I see that Silas has removed his shirt and is now unbuttoning his jeans.
“What are you doing?” I ask with concern.
“Take off your clothes,” he demands instead of answering my question. When I fail to move at all in response, he adds, “Your clothes are wet. They’re only making you colder.”
I know he’s right. One way or another, I’m going to have to get out of these soaked clothes before I can finally lie down and go to sleep.
I turn around toward the duffel bag in the corner and slowly remove my shirt, careful not to aggravate the soreness in my arms and back. I can’t help wincing as I reach behind me to unhook my bra, but before I can even get a firm grasp on the band, Silas has already unhooked it for me.
The garment instantly goes loose around my shoulders and releases my breasts, and that’s all the time it takes for heat to rush through my body all the way to my cheeks. I slip off the bra the rest of the way, and just as I’m about to reach into the duffel bag to dig for any dry shirt to wear to stop this raging fire that has ignited within me, Silas snatches the bag away. I’d fight him for it except that I’m completely exposed from the waist up and struggling to keep myself turned away from him as it is.
“No shirt,” he proclaims as I glance briefly over my shoulder to see he’s keeping the bag well out of my reach. “Skin-to-skin contact will bring your temperature back up.”
I release a ragged breath and close my eyes, willing this primal feeling within me to go back to its dormant state where I’ve successfully kept it for years, but my body’s not fucking listening to me.
“Lie down,” I hear Silas instruct from behind me, instantly causing my breathing to quicken. I start to panic, unsure whether to resist or comply.
I opt for a compromise, asking shakily, “Will you turn off the light?”
Silas huffs a laugh. “It’s not like I haven’t seen you bare before.”
I shiver at the thought of all the times my body’s been exposed to Silas, then explain, “It’ll make me more comfortable.”
He thinks about my reasoning for a moment, then reaches for the flashlight, flicking it off. Knowing that it won’t take long for our eyes to adjust to the darkness, I waste no time in turning around and carefully maneuvering myself to lie down on the sleeping bag as Silas instructed.
“I’m going to take these off you,” Silas warns as I feel his touch at the button of my jeans. “It’ll be easier for me than for you right now.”
A small voice inside me is screaming to stop this from happening, but I nod silently into the darkness instead, my pulse racing even faster as I feel the button pop free and hear the zipper being pulled down. He tugs firmly on the wet jeans until they’re down to my ankles and removed from me completely.
My eyes have adjusted enough to the darkness to see the outline of Silas on his knees at my feet. He leans in over me and reaches forward, and the next thing I feel is his warm touch at my exposed lower belly, fingering the edge of my panties.
“I’m taking these, too.” He hooks the fabric with one finger and slowly pulls them down, his palm brushing the top of my mound along the way, causing me to inhale a sharp breath. He continues pulling the panties down my legs until they’re gone from me, but he’s still leaning in above as if his work isn’t finished yet.
My eyes have more than adjusted to the darkness now, so I know his eyes have done the same, and he can see me fully beneath him like this. He can surely make out the crazed look of desire on my face and hear my ragged breathing, but he does nothing more to act on it. I’m completely naked and vulnerable beneath him, but he chooses not to move.
“Silas?” I whisper.
&nb
sp; “Do you feel it now?” he says quietly above me. “That warmth and desire. These feelings…” He draws a deep breath, seeming to have difficulty maintaining his control. “Are you ready to finally give in to them?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, understanding fully now what today was all about. Silas left me alone and let me freeze and starve to make me vulnerable to these feelings I don’t understand and these desires I’m inherently programmed to have. Despite his efforts, though, I haven’t forgotten how I felt this morning after giving in even a little to these feelings and desires. There’s no way I can go farther down that path.
“There’s nothing to give in to,” I respond with as much strength as I can manage behind my voice. “I don’t have feelings for you.”
“You’re practically moaning beneath me,” he argues. “I know you want this.”
“Not from you.” My throat tightens as I think of the brother I lost at the hands of Silas. “It can never be you.”
My words might as well be knives slicing Silas into pieces above me. I can tell they affect him more than I intended, but they get the point across. He needs to understand fully this time, regardless of what that means for me and my future.
I’m terrified of the options Silas has before him right now and my complete vulnerability in all of them. It feels like I need to do something to direct my fate, so I decide to intervene, walking a thin line that could either smooth things over with Silas for this moment or backfire in the worst possible way.
“I still need you,” I admit cautiously. “Skin-to-skin.”
The look of uncertainty and indecision on Silas’ face quickly fades and is replaced with mild satisfaction instead. He moves back toward my feet, allowing me to slip into the sleeping bag and turn on my side with my head on the pillow facing away from the opening. Silas quickly follows suit, lying down next to me before zipping up the sleeping bag so that we’re closed in together.
He reaches an arm around my stomach to connect his bare chest to the entire length of my bare back. As he conforms the rest of his body to mine, I feel the residual hardness of his cock pressing through his boxers against my ass, but so far he’s not acting on it at all. My breasts and private area are fully exposed and within inches of his hand, but his fingers don’t even try to linger there. He’s not forcing anything on me.
Falling Ash Page 17
