Because You're Mine_Psychological Thriller

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Because You're Mine_Psychological Thriller Page 13

by Marin Montgomery


  “You don’t own me” the singer wails as she sings about a controlling man in her life.

  A smirk plays across my face. Everything is right in the world.

  And Levin is mine again.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Levin

  I wake up in a bed that isn’t mine.

  At first, I’m hopeful that I’m in Jake’s bed, that maybe I passed out in the tub, and he carried me here.

  But then I remember Alec.

  The realization that I’m somewhere unknown is crushing, and I involuntarily gasp.

  My head throbs, and when I try to get up, I can’t. I’m tied to a four-poster bed.

  The room’s darkness envelops me. Black is all I can see, liquid ink pouring out of every crevice.

  Judging from the silky material resting against my skin, it would seem as though I’m wearing a robe and nothing else.

  My mind races, replaying the last thing I remember—Alec standing over me in the tub. I attempt to scream, but my mouth is covered with tape.

  I taste cotton and the remnants of something sweet.

  Where the hell has he taken me?

  I hear a squeaking sound, and a shape materializes as it comes closer to the bed. The mattress underneath me sags as he sits down.

  “Hi,” he jovially says as if I hadn’t just discovered I’m bound and gagged. “I missed you so much, baby.” He leans down to hug me, the glint of a knife in his waistband visible even in the dark.

  My hands are tied above my head. I can’t move.

  I try again to scream. Nothing comes out.

  “I want to take the tape off, but I don’t think you’ll behave.” He tilts his head at me. “If you don’t behave, off with your head.” He makes a slicing motion across his neck and then laughs maniacally.

  I close my eyes. How could I have been so stupid? He killed two people—that I know of. Why did I think I could get away from him? That he wouldn’t kill me in a heartbeat?

  He doesn’t know what love is. He’s crazy, and crazy people don’t rationalize the same way others do.

  When my eyes open, he is staring at me. In the dark, all I can see are the whites of his eyes. I wonder if I close them again, will he disappear?

  “Let’s play a game. If you blink once, that means yes. Two blinks mean no.” A small bath of light appears as he turns on a bedside lamp. “Show me you understand,” he demands.

  I oblige and blink my eyes.

  “Good girl.” He grabs my leg roughly. “Now, can I take the tape off without you screaming?”

  I blink my eyes once for yes.

  “If you don’t behave, I’ll throw you off the side of the mountain, and your body will hit every rock on the way down. If you don’t die from that, which I'm confident you will, a cougar or badger will eat your body. Do you understand?”

  I believe him. I blink again.

  He rips the tape off my mouth. I gasp, my skin feeling the sting.

  I try to make out the room I am in. There is nothing familiar about it. It is large, and there are blackout curtains on the windows. Hence, the reason not a trickle of light escaped through the blinds.

  Alec is dressed in black—black pants and a black long sleeve t-shirt. He is wearing combat boots, and a cap covers his hair.

  The face that I thought was once handsome looks like a crazed joker to me.

  “I missed you, did you miss me?” He commands my attention.

  I blink once.

  “You can stop blinking and talk, silly.” He laughs and kisses my closed lips. I have the urge to bite him but resist.

  “We need to talk, Levin.” His tone is serious, but his eyes are maniacal. “There have been breaches of trust on both parts, but I want us to move forward with a renewed sense of purpose.”

  I can only nod. My gut is on fire, and I attempt to swallow, but my mouth still so dry. Killing my best friend and kidnapping me hardly sounds like a trust issue.

  “If I help you sit up, will you be good?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I manage to spit out.

  He pulls the knife from his waistband and cuts the rope on one wrist, helping me into a sitting position, but re-ties me to the post.

  “My head hurts.” My voice is hollow.

  “Oh, baby, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He coos at me like I am a small, helpless child.

  “Do we need to be here?” I plead. “Can’t we go home?”

  “Home?” Alec replaces the knife in his waistband. “Do you miss it?”

  “Yes.” I lie. “It’s the only home I’ve ever had.”

  “I didn’t know you felt that way.” He grabs my cheek roughly. “Couldn’t tell since you left it and me.”

  “I left because I got scared.” Now it was time to put on an Oscar-winning performance, lest I be murdered for not playing the right role. I shift my eyes downward. “I was worried I’d be a terrible mother and a disappointment to you.”

  “A terrible mom?” He stands up and starts pacing the room. The floors are hardwood, and his footsteps are heavy as they cross it.

  “My mother, she wasn’t the best,” I add. He knows my life story, but a reminder couldn’t hurt.

  Alec pauses next to the bed. “It’s not going to be like your childhood, Levin. We aren’t your parents.”

  “Maybe it’s selfish, but I could only picture being stuck in my mother’s trailer, never having the chance to get out.” I sigh loudly and dramatically.

  Alec eats it up. Unless he’s pretending as much as I am.

  And in that case… I’m screwed.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Alec

  I know Levin had a tumultuous childhood. The scars are still intact, yet buried, but in this case, rising to the surface.

  My perception shifts as I consider her views.

  “This is why you left?” I am incredulous. If this is the reason, and she has no idea about Eric, then it should be smooth sailing from here.

  But, I’m skeptical. I want to believe her, I do.

  She and I, we aren’t so different. Both of us come from vastly different backgrounds, yet we hurt each other because of our past experiences. Trust keeps shattering, it crumbles, and at our core, we both don’t have faith in each other.

  I want to feel relieved, but I’m in shock. This is not the conversation I expected to have.

  “I’m also worried I can’t conceive.” Levin looks ashamed, her head down.

  “Why not?” I’m appalled. This is the first I’m hearing about this.

  Levin takes a deep breath. “Jeff.”

  She only has to say his name once. I know all about him.

  “Well, we can consult the top doctors.” I sit down beside her. “There’s nothing to be ashamed about. There’s IVF if we need to. We have options.”

  Suddenly, I want out of the same room as her, the desire to punch a wall overcoming my sensibilities. I pull at my ear hearing the ringing shrill as it hisses at me.

  The rational part of my mind tells me this isn’t her fault. The irrational part of my brain screams that she’s self-centered in not telling me her concerns earlier. This isn’t the type of information you withhold from your partner, especially when we want children.

  She starts to cry, inconsolable tears flooding down her cheeks. I caress her cheek.

  “Please hold me.” She tries to wiggle her wrists which are still bound to the bed. “I need you to hold me.”

  This was all I have yearned for since she left me.

  Yet, at this moment, I’m conflicted. Is it worth marrying her? Should I just kill her?

  If she couldn’t give me children, then what’s the point? Her spouse only inherits the money upon her death after a certain number of years.

  The children were the golden ticket. They received the inheritance at birth. It was supposed to go into a trust, but I have a lawyer friend who could work some magic.

  She senses my disapproval. “Alec? We can talk about this. We can talk about it all. I’m rea
dy. I know I’m being selfish, and I’m sorry.”

  Her body looks so small and miserable tied up to the bed, the robe haphazardly open, exposing her breasts and a trail down to her V. Her face is splotchy from crying.

  “I need some reassurance from you.” I’m stoic even as she sobs.

  She nods her head.

  “I’ve given you everything.” The spittle sprays her face as I start to heat up. “Everything, and you act like a spoiled brat.”

  She purses her lips and watches me.

  I grab her cheeks, my fingers squeezing each side.

  “You’re going to start doing something for me.” Her eyes don’t leave my face.

  “You’re going to give me what I want.”

  I don’t let go.

  “Do you understand?” I move her face from side to side like she’s a mere puppet.

  Inside, I struggle with pulling her into my arms or strangling her for being such a selfish bitch. I’m just not ready to let go of her yet.

  I slowly untie the rope that binds her arms, and I lay down beside her.

  In her ear I whisper, “If you make any move to hurt or leave me, now, or ever, I will fucking kill you.”

  Her eyes widen, but she says nothing.

  She lays her head on my chest, and I wrap my arms around her tightly. I have nothing to say at this moment. I’m spent.

  The tiredness creeps in, and I am overcome with the need to sleep. I can’t trust her to be on her own or watch me fall asleep.

  “I’m going to get you some Advil for your head.” I lie. I make a motion to lift her hands back over her head to restrain her again.

  “Can't you just tie my arms together?” she whines. “It hurts to hold my arms up like this.”

  Before I know what I’m doing, I haul off and slap her across the face. “Shut the fuck up. I'm tired of your whining and bitching.”

  She looks startled, a new side to my personality that had always been buried.

  I typically didn't let my emotions get the best of me, at least in front of her.

  My face softens, and I shake my head. “I’m sorry, baby. I just have a lot of emotions right now. Let me get you something for your headache.”

  I snap the lamp off dousing the room once again in obscurity.

  I leave her tied up, eyes closed, as a bruise starts to form on her left cheekbone.

  Fuck, the wedding pictures. Thank God for makeup. Levin would know how to camouflage it.

  The bathroom in the master has a first-aid kit and a stash of different ointments and over-the-counter meds. I grab the bottle, so she thinks the pill is an Advil, but in reality, it’s a strong sedative.

  I bring the pills and a glass of water to her. There is wetness on her cheek, and I cringe. I hold her head up so she can drink from the glass, and she’s greedy as she gulps it. I push the pills into her mouth.

  “Swallow, baby,” I say, closing her mouth around the pills. When I’m certain she’s ingested them, I lay back down beside her. “We need to go to sleep and get our rest. We have a big day tomorrow. A lot of surprises.”

  I feel her body tighten up next to me. It’s rigid, and I give her a peck on the cheek. I will let her stew this over in her mind as to what surprises are in store. But first, I want more.

  My tongue flicks out of my mouth, and I search her lips. There’s a pause, and I’m searching, seeking her approval. I need to know she wants me as much.

  We kiss, and it’s forceful, more so because I demand it. Her eyes are closed, and I’m sucking her face, drinking her in.

  The pills will kick in shortly, and I shut my eyes, confident she will be out in a matter of minutes. They’re horse tranquilizers. And strong ones at that.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Levin

  I wake up from a deep slumber—my brain foggy and my body numb.

  Even though I’m certain it’s day, the blackout curtains prevent the differentiation of light and dark from the outside.

  My hands ache from their position, and though I tried to twist my body, Alec lies next to me, holding me down, even in sleep.

  But he’s is out cold.

  My survival rests on me being able to play his game better than he can. I know that no matter what, I have followed his dark fantasies, fake emotion, insecurities, and love.

  Haven’t I done this my whole life? Pretend that I’m not dying inside? The practice I have in this area is not lost on me. I’m used to changing and adapting to situations that I have no desire to be in.

  I can do this, I give myself an internal pep talk. I can add psychopaths to the list of people I have negotiated with. Alcoholics and abusers were only a starting point.

  I decide my best bet is to snuggle into him, play the role of a repentant fiancée and try to convince him we need to go back home.

  I wonder if he got ahold of my phone? What he knows?

  My thoughts drift to Jake, and my stomach clenches. I wonder if he thinks I just went back to my place?

  I clearly wasn’t showing up for my shift today. Would Amada alert Olivia and Maddy?

  Even if he doesn’t kill me now, how am I going to pretend with this man—sleep beside him and feel safe?

  These episodes will continue, me at his mercy. I wish now I had gone to the police. Trying to uncover even more proof had landed me in a maelstrom of regret.

  Alec hears me rustling, and I watch his eyes pop open startled to see me awake.

  “Good morning,” I whisper in his ear. I figure starting out the day with neutrality is a decent route to take.

  “Baby,” I say, my voice a gentle murmur. “Do you mind if I pee? Also, I’m starved, so I’m betting you are, too. Anything here I can cook us for breakfast?”

  He looks at me strangely. I’m hoping at the suggestion of food, I’m able to move off this bed. My arms ache, and my back is sore from the awkward way my body is positioned.

  If he gets up and feeds me, I’ll be able to move my hands, and maybe the numbness will subside.

  He might even let me eat in the kitchen since he’s opposed to eating in bed. I don’t know if this rule applies in a kidnapping situation, but I sure hope so.

  “You want to cook? You never want to cook.” Alec shows his annoyance by giving my shoulder a rough shove.

  “Alec…” I try my best for a look of remorse. “I fucked up. Bad. I didn’t let you in. I didn’t do my wifely duties. Leaving made me realize how much you do for me, for us.”

  He nods his head in agreement. “You’ve been very bad. I agree it’s time to start remedying the situation. You can start by apologizing to my cock.” He motions downward and unzips his pants.

  I start to protest but realize disobeying isn’t going to win me any favors or buy me more time.

  The disgust on my face is replaced by him shoving his cock into my mouth. He tries to find a comfortable position that keeps me tied up but able to get the job done.

  The panic starts to rise, the feel of him in my mouth makes me gag. I’m imagining myself anywhere but here—Jake’s face front and center in my mind.

  I go back to my childhood—Jeff. The parallels between that universe and this not much different—I’m stuck in a situation that I have to fight my way out of.

  A single tear runs down my cheek tickling my skin.

  “Baby, I want to show you how sorry I am,” I beg, “Please let me use my hands, too.”

  He pauses to think about this and reaches the same conclusion I did. Silently, he unties my hands, and I rub my wrists as soon as the rope is off. Jagged red marks throb across my wrists, and I wince.

  “Baby, I’ll take your pain away.” He grabs my hair and pushes me down hard on his cock. I start gagging, and it excites him even more.

  I pretend I’m somewhere else, anywhere else. I go back to my night with Jake. Even just being in his presence reassured me—yesterday morning—the way his hands enclosed mine, how he listened, his attentiveness.

  He’s the thought that’s going to
get me through this.

  I shake as Alec’s cum fills my mouth. I’m disgusted, but I have a renewed sense of purpose. I’m going to get the hell out of here.

  Alive.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Alec

  After I come in her mouth, I watch her face attentively. I know she hates the taste, so I purposely make her swallow.

  She needs to be punished for running from me, for causing me pain, the lengths I’ve had to go to get her back, not to mention the money I’ve spent.

  I drag her to the bathroom by her hair afterward, half of it spilling out of her unkempt bun.

  She is grateful to pee, but she makes me nervous as she eyeballs the bathroom.

  I eye her closely as she sits on the toilet, her face still red from my loss of anger the night before. She hates peeing in front of other people, it makes her anxious. I try to start a conversation to rush her along.

  “You can cook me breakfast.” I’m nonchalant. “Then we need to shower. Busy day today.” She turns her face to look at me.

  Her eyes search me for clues, for answers. She isn’t getting an answer yet.

  After she’s finished in the bathroom, I bring out a pair of handcuffs and show them to her. “The kitchen is stocked. I want some eggs, over easy, and some toast. If you make any attempt to run, I’ll handcuff you to the stove.”

  She nods, understanding.

  “Get to work.” I’m gruff.

  I sit on a bar stool at the kitchen island and watch her. It takes her a minute to locate what she needs—the frying pan, spatula, and all the ingredients.

  Before long, she’s at the stove cracking eggs and preparing our meal. She does this with trepidation, tiptoeing around the kitchen in her bare feet, her silky robe coming lose as she keeps adjusting it to cover her body.

  “Take it off,” I order. “I’m tired of looking at it.” She removes it without incident, and I throw it over the stool next to me.

  She stands by the stove for heat, her naked body shivering.

 

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