Passion Follows Pain (Passion Series Book 3)

by Melville, J. A

  “I…I didn’t Father. I didn’t let him touch me like that, I swear.” I tried to reassure him but he wasn’t paying any attention to me.

  “Take your clothes off now. I want to see if he’s marked you at all. I will know if he has.”

  I hesitated, reluctant to do as he asked. My clothes were my only protection from his look and touch. I hated it when he would study me like I was some sort of scientific experiment that required his very intense, very in depth exploration.

  “I’m waiting and you know I don’t like to be kept waiting. Are you going to do it yourself or will I have to tear them off you? You know if you make me do it, I’m going to be forced to punish you for disobeying me. Is that what you want? You would make life so much easier for yourself if you just listened to me. It’s really not too much to ask is it? Now do as I say, get your clothes off now.” He ordered his tone harsh.

  I recognised that tone in his voice and I knew better than to argue with him, to not take heed of his warning. Slowly I climbed to my feet and pulled my nightie over my head. He’d taken me from the front of Daisy’s home after I’d changed into my nightgown and he’d given me nothing more appropriate to wear so once it came off, I only had a pair of panties on.

  In a show of defiance, I met my father’s eyes and for the first time, instead of reverting to my usual tactics of emotionally switching off, I let myself feel the rage that simmered below the surface. I’d always found that by switching off I could pretend it wasn’t happening to me, but not this time. This time I watched him, seeing the lust fill his eyes and knowing that it would mean he’d want me again. He would almost salivate and he was close to doing that now but I wasn’t my usual numb self, switched off, dead inside, methods I’d used to cope with what he subjected me to.

  Instead, I felt revulsion for him, disgust and as I met his eyes I had to work hard not to let the overwhelming, all-consuming hatred and anger I felt towards him, show on my face. Things had changed, I was changing, I was growing, evolving and no longer wished to spend my life in fear of this man who called himself my father but who was little more than a complete asshole as far as I was concerned.

  Oddly it was my vampire friends, especially Lucian who made me realise I shouldn’t be feeling ashamed and embarrassed by what my father did to me. I wasn’t the one doing anything wrong. I’d lost so many years to him; I wasn’t giving up any more of my life to this bastard. I couldn’t stop him now, and Lucian, if he was trying to find me, wouldn’t get here in time to save me now, but I could sure as hell make sure that this didn’t set me back. I didn’t want to go back to shy, timid, terrified of the world Arissa. I wanted to live without fear or pain. I wanted to know what it felt like to be with a man who cared. One thing I’d come to realise more than anything else, no matter what happened, no matter whether anything came of my relationship with Lucian, I wanted him to make me vampire.

  “Come on baby cakes.” Father gestured to my panties and I pushed my thoughts aside and focused on him. “Pull them down, and then lie on the bed. I know you can’t get them right off because of the chain but that won’t matter.”

  With a deep breath, I hooked my fingers into the elastic of my panties and slipped them over my hips and down my legs, kicking them free of the foot that wasn’t shackled to the bed. Once they were off, I carefully lay down on the cheap orange coloured bedspread and waited for whatever my father chose to do to me.

  I closed my eyes, picturing Lucian in my mind, trailing my hands over his shoulders, his back, tracing that amazing tattoo of his before moving down to cup his taut buttocks.

  I heard the noise of my father’s belt hitting the floor. The soft rustling sounds of him removing his clothing. Even when the bed dipped and his calloused hands settled on my thighs, parting my legs and I felt him shift, his nose pressed up against my pussy and he breathed in, looking for evidence of Lucian, I still didn’t open my eyes.

  “Hmmm, so you told the truth. I smell no other man on you. Just as well or you’d be paying for that. Still, you haven’t even gone close to making up for what you did to me, running off like that. A man has needs and you weren’t around to fulfil mine. You have a lot of time to make up for, and you can be sure I will not let up until I feel you have proven to me, that you are sorry for what you’ve done, and have made a more than adequate attempt to make up for your betrayal. Am I making myself perfectly clear Arissa?” He lifted his head to see if I was listening and I nodded.

  I wasn’t game to speak because I was worried the tone of my voice might alert him to the fact that I wasn’t prepared to settle for being back under his control. The need to rebel to show defiance was rising in me. Feelings I’d never had before, and I couldn’t let father see I was changing. I couldn’t risk him hearing the rebellion in my voice.

  I looked around the basic room which was dark since father had left the curtains closed. There wasn’t much in it. Just the double bed we were on, bedside tables, both with matching lamps on them. There was a TV, cupboard with a phone and the doorway to the bathroom.

  I looked around, trying not to think about what my father was doing as he touched me between my legs; sticking his fingers in me, stretching me since he liked to see how much I was capable of taking. As I felt the sting of my delicate skin when he stretched it beyond what was comfortable, my gaze moved back to the lamp on the bedside table next to my head. From what I could see, it wasn’t fixed down, it looked to be just sitting there and I wondered, could I, dare I?

  Suddenly father shifted up my body, his eyes filled with lust as he met my gaze. He was breathing heavily and I could smell sweat on him as he roughly pushed my legs apart, fumbling to position himself between them. As he forced his way into me, he kissed me on the lips, his breath rank and I fought down the bile which threatened to rise up the back of my throat.

  He settled into a rhythm, thrusting into me like a wild animal rutting. Each thrust was accompanied by a grunt and I looked at his balding head which was positioned next to mine, his eyes closed, and his hot breath against my neck and could see all his focus was on his pleasure and reaching his release.

  I looked over at the lamp and realised if I was going to do what I was thinking of doing, I had to hurry. Father wouldn’t last forever. He’d come soon and then my opportunity would be lost.

  Carefully I reached out and grabbed the lamp, lifting it, testing to see if it would move. It was fairly light and easy for me to pick up. Father must have heard something, sensed something as he started to lift his head, to slow the pace of his thrusts and I panicked. In a bid to make sure he didn’t see what I was doing, I pressed my lips to his, kissing him. Distracting him by appearing to be into the moment, playing to my father’s ego, since he liked to think he was some kind of stud, I tilted my hips, pushing into him, encouraging him to keep moving. I moaned, throwing my free arm around him, pushing his lips more firmly to mine, my fingers digging into his scalp and he grunted. I felt him push his tongue into my mouth, his excitement building. My diversionary tactics were working, now I’d appealed to his male ego and made him think he was turning me on.

  I lifted the lamp, aware that it was making some noise but fortunately father was too busy kissing me; too busy fucking me to notice. Just as he tensed, his body going rigid and I felt his warm release in me, I slammed the lamp down on the back of his head, hearing the crunch, the glass of the lamp shattering and shards of it and the light bulb showered down on me. I felt the impact of the lamp on the back of his head through me, causing me to bite my lip painfully breaking open the skin, but I didn’t care because father had stopped moving, he’d collapsed on me, unconscious, possibly dead, I didn’t know for sure.

  I nudged him and he gave a faint moan, enough for me to bring the lamp down on him again and finally this time when I prodded him he didn’t make any sound, he didn’t move. This time I was pretty sure he was out cold.

  I wriggled, trying to toss him off me but he was surprisingly heavy unconscious. Finally I managed to tip
him off me until he was lying on his back by my side. He looked grey and there was blood oozing from a wound near his right ear. I prodded him again but he didn’t move and tentatively I touched a couple of fingers to his neck and felt a faint pulse. I hadn’t killed him, he was only unconscious.

  I sat up feeling his seed running out of me and I desperately wanted a shower to remove him from my skin, I wanted a bath to flush him from inside me. I wanted him off me, out of me, I wanted all traces of him gone from me.

  Again I looked over at him, wondering if he would wake anytime soon and then I would be in more trouble than I could ever imagine. He would more than likely kill me as I’d nearly killed him.

  I looked around for something to tie him up with but I couldn’t see anything nearby that I could use. Of course the perfect thing was on me, the chain and shackle but I was still tied to the bed and I had no idea where father had left the key.

  With one eye on him, I dug around in his shirt pockets but I found no key. I climbed off the bed and picked up his pants, hunting through the pockets but again nothing.

  I swore, something I didn’t really do much of but this seemed like the appropriate time to use every swear word I could think of. I was stuck and I had no idea how I was going to get out of this situation. Father was unconscious, for how long, I didn’t know, and I couldn’t escape as I was tied to the bed. I managed to pull my panties back on and I found my nightie, slipping it over my head so I was at least covered again.

  I looked over at the phone and wondered if I could reach it. The chain that ran off my shackle was fairly long, but I wasn’t sure if it was that long. Gingerly I got up, my legs shaking as a combination of shock and fatigue started to set in. My head was pounding from where father had hit me, I was so tired from the stress of being kidnapped and having had no sleep, and I ached from being trussed up in the car.

  I walked over towards the phone and got close, really close but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t quite reach it. I just needed something to give me that little bit of extra stretch.

  I started pacing the room as far as my tether chain would allow, looking for something that I could use to help me reach the phone. I wasn’t sure why I was trying to get to the phone anyway. I had no one to call. I didn’t even know Daisy’s number. Ironically Lucian had given me his but I didn’t have it with me.

  I began to think about his mobile number and how I’d stared at it intently last night. It was a relatively easy number so why couldn’t I remember it now? “Think Arissa, think.” I chastised myself. I started to pace up and down the room as far as I could on the chain and I racked my brain, desperate to remember Lucian’s number.

  As I paced, I cast glances over at my father to make sure he was still unconscious. If he started to wake, I was going to have to hit him again unless I found something to tie him up with.

  My eyes fell on the lamp and I unplugged it, studying the reasonably long cord and plug. I headed back over to the phone and like a fisherman casting his line; I threw out the plug end, trying to hit the phone. I made contact, but only enough to knock it partially off its cradle. I was going to have to try again.

  I gathered up the cord and cast it towards the phone again, throwing it hard enough to pass it so I could hopefully hook it and drag it towards me when I yanked on the lamp cord. This time the hand piece fell right off the cradle and tumbled to the floor dangling there, taunting me, tempting me and I could just hear the dial tone in the silence of the room.

  I gave a sob of relief that it worked since the motel didn’t exactly look like a high class kind of establishment, but I still had the problem of how to get it close enough for me to reach it.

  I walked to the end of my tether again and stretched out, desperately trying to reach the phone but it was just out of range. I sobbed, feeling frustrated and defeated. I was so close but just not close enough.

  I sank down on the bed and began to cry but not fully letting my guard down as I angled my body so I could keep an eye out for any movement from my father. I was so tired, a little hungry and my body ached terribly, my head throbbing as I sobbed quietly. I needed to get myself under control and think about how to get out of this situation and I also needed the bathroom.

  Father had kept me tied up in the car for hours as we’d driven, and there had been no bathroom breaks so now I needed to go. I looked over towards the bathroom door and down at the chain tether I was on and walked towards the doorway knowing I’d never make it.

  My tears began to fall faster and I sobbed as it all became too much. Why was this happening to me? Was I so bad that I didn’t deserve to be happy? What had I done that made me worthy of this kind of punishment, and now just to add to the misery of my situation I needed to pee urgently?

  After a while, I finally got a handle on my tears and they stopped. Unfortunately my bladder did not, and in an effort to distract myself from my growing urgency to use the bathroom, I began to pace restlessly up and down the room but it was no good. The urge was too great and finally after about an hour of trying so hard to hold on I had no choice but to squat and relieve myself like an animal. I urinated on the carpet, some going on me, some on my nightie and after everything else I’d endured today, that was enough to set me off again, and I dissolved into another round of tears.

  I sobbed for a while until I thought I heard a groan and froze, my eyes turning to my father. Sure enough he was stirring slightly and in a panic I leapt up from the floor, wielding the lamp like a weapon, striking him a couple of times until I was sure he was unconscious again. His head was looking a bit battered now, the skin cut and bleeding in places, his nose swollen and crooked so I must have broken it. He was still alive though so he was a tough old bastard.

  I looked towards the window noticing the light showing around the curtain was dimming, so I could tell it was starting to get dark outside and that frightened me. I didn’t want to spend the night in this room with my father. I had to get a light on, but I had to find a way to reach the phone. It was my only chance of getting out of here. The idea to scream for help briefly crossed my mind but I dismissed it again. I guess years of training from my father to never reveal what he did to me kept me silent. He had taught me well.

  All I could think about for now was reaching that phone and then it came to me, an idea. The lamp I’d hit him with might also work to reach the phone, so I walked out to the end of my tether again and leaned forward, brandishing the lamp like a sword. Since I’d broken the lamp shade and globe over my father’s head, the bare lamp had some decorative parts that just might hook the phone cord. It was hanging there, taunting me, from when I’d knocked it off it cradle earlier.

  I still couldn’t reach it but I thought if I was to lie down I might just do it. I lay down on the worn grey carpet and stretched my arm out that carried the lamp as hard as I could, stretching until I thought my spine would separate, my ankle hurting from where the shackle dug in to my flesh and finally, finally I got the tip of the lamp to brush against the cord.

  With a sound that was a half sob, half grunt, I lunged again with the lamp and this time I got the phone cord tangled around it. I pulled and watched the phone tumble off the cupboard, the bell inside protesting when it hit the hard concrete floor where the thin carpet did little to soften the impact.

  I pulled it towards me like I was reeling in a fish although I’d never fished in my life and a sob of relief escaped my lips when I finally lifted the phone into my arms. I’d done it; I’d managed to reach it. Now all I had to do was remember Lucian’s number and hope I could ring him.

  I wondered where he was, if he knew I’d been taken. I’d like to have thought he was coming for me but one night, one date did not make me his responsibility, did not make me his one true love. Yet somewhere inside I believed he was coming, I had to, but how would he know where to look? How could he ever find me? I had to ring him; it was the only way he would be able to find me. Suddenly my heart dropped. How could Lucian find me? Even I did
n’t know where I was. There had to be something in the room with the motel name on it surely?

  After scouting around everywhere as much as I could on my tether I realised that the only thing that might have the name on it was a folder over on the cupboard near where the phone had been but I knew I had no chance of getting it. I would have to think of something else. Still, I could ring Lucian that much I could do. I’d worry about finding out the motel name once I’d called him.

  I sat down and took a couple of deep breaths, clearing my mind as well as I could of all that had happened, picturing the note that Lucian had slipped in my purse last night. I thought about what it said, the numbers he’d written down for me, and as I pictured it I began to dial with fingers that shook.

  I listened to it ring, my heart thumping as I waited for it to be answered. I silently begged for it to be the right number, and just when I thought no one was going to answer it, I heard an abrupt, very impatient voice snap down the line. “What?” He sounded angry, really angry but I didn’t care, I just sagged with relief. It was Lucian.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Lucian

  “Can’t you drive faster sire?” Lucian asked impatiently. “We must hurry, I feel something’s happened. He’s hurt her, that bastard has hurt her. We have to get to her, please hurry.”

  Lucian was sure Arissa had been hurt, that she’d been subjected to her father’s sexual abuse. The image of her lying on a bed with her father on top of her going at her had filled his head, and it had been so clear it had made him cry out, his voice filled with anguish, with distress, like a wounded animal.

  It had to be her blood. The few times he’d fed from her had given him enough of a blood tie to her that he could feel some of her emotions. Since that had happened a couple of hours ago, he was desperate to get to her now. The sun was starting to set so it would be their time soon, the darkness that was their comfort, but he felt an even greater sense of urgency to get to her because the darkness could be dangerous for her, very dangerous.