The Dark Forest: A Collection Of Erotic Fairytales

by Zoe Blake

  The large bottle of vodka in one hand was welcome, the two cups he set on the table had a clear purpose, but the oversized t-shirt that he held out made her pause.

  “We’re going to drink now, and you’re going to put on this shirt because otherwise I’m going to fuck you—and trust me, as wet as I’m sure you are, now is not the time.” He shook the shirt at her and she took it, glaring at him as she pulled it on. It took a moment to draw her long hair through the neck, but then she was covered. For the first time in days. “What do you say?”

  “Thanks,” she whispered, but he just made a noise of acknowledgement as he poured a few inches of vodka in each cup, lifted his, and waited. She sighed, lifted hers, and then they both drank. It was cheap, but she didn’t even care as he started to talk again.

  “You know, that wasn’t the whole truth.” He breathed out as he stared at the pages scattered all around them. “I wanted you to know he was a monster, I wanted to tear down his empire, but I really did want to destroy you too. I’ve hated you both for so long. Up in that fucking tower, high above the city, while my family was barely able to get by. After my mother died, it was all my father could think about, all he could ever talk about. Destroying Daniel Sinclair.”

  “You’ve made your point, I get it.”

  “Tell me then, did I destroy you?”

  She rolled her eyes and finished her vodka, reaching to refill. The question hung between them, and her mind was such a convoluted mess of questions that she felt exhausted even trying to answer. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

  “Well, you’re still the golden heir to Monarch Systems. What’s left of it anyway.” He smiled into his drink, and she stared at him, waiting for him to continue, and then he finally did. “It took him a while to start responding, but I knew if I could get you I could get him to destroy his own company piece by piece, destabilize it to the point that it could get picked off, because you’re a part of him. His blood. His legacy to leave behind, and he’s too prideful to let you go.”

  “I’m not so sure about that.” Rebecca flinched, remembering all the times her father had missed the deadlines the man across the table had set. If she were really so important, so vital, why had he dragged his feet? Why had he waited and waited and waited to make decisions?

  “After all this you still don’t believe me?” He gestured at the room. “Every file in this room is about you. Every fucked up thing is a piece of your history. The history of Sinclair spending millions to get you, to make you. Shit, you’re the most valuable thing he owns.”

  “Right.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I find you valuable too, but mostly because I really enjoy making you suffer.” A small smirk lifted his perfect lips as she looked up at him. “I mean, if I’m honest with myself, this was about fifty-percent wanting to break your father, to tear down his empire, and about fifty-percent just wanting to have you. To have you scream, and cry, and moan, come underneath me over and over.”

  His voice had dropped into a low, purring growl, and her body responded to the call. Heat bloomed at the base of her spine, making her pussy clench with the memory of his tongue, the weight of him above her, the cruel pleasure he seemed to inflict without effort. The blush was back and she glared at him as she upended the cup, letting the cold burn of the vodka carry down into her empty stomach. “That doesn’t make me feel any better, actually. So, what are you going to do with me now? You still haven’t really answered that question.”

  “I’m going to let you go, like I always planned to.”

  Rebecca stared at him, and he sighed and stood up, wandering back to his bag. “You’re just going to let me go. Even though I’ve seen your face.”

  With a lopsided smile, he approached her again, and shrugged. “That was always the plan, although I have to admit I did not expect you to go for my mask. That was pretty fucking stupid, because I could kill you.”

  “I know.” She swallowed hard, but he seemed almost amused.

  “I’m not going to kill you, Rebecca. This was supposed to end differently, but I just don’t care anymore what happens to me.” The use of her real name made her twitch as he laid something down on the table in front of her, but he kept it covered by his hand. “This will make it easier when you go to the police.”

  “What is going to help—”

  The kiss silenced her instantly, and stole her breath away. His lips were soft against hers, and warm, and for the briefest of moments his hand slipped into her hair to gently hold her still. It was like the cool rain after a forest fire, so shockingly different in nature that she wasn’t even able to respond before he stepped back. Ending it as quickly as it began, except now her heart was stumbling over itself. And as if she weren’t stunned enough, on the table in front of her was a driver’s license.

  His driver’s license. Terrible photo and all.

  Adam Gothel.

  “Adam?” she breathed his name in disbelief.

  “Yes?”

  “You kissed me.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “I just wanted to know what it felt like to kiss a princess. ”

  “For the last time, I am not a princess.” She touched her lips as he settled into the chair across from her, his ribs expanding and settling back in a deep breath.

  “You’re the modern equivalent, whether you want to admit it or not. Sinclair is the king of his little kingdom, and you are the long-awaited heir.” He took a drink, and smiled. “Although, I guess if the empire does fall, you’ll be a pauper like the rest of us, like your mother was.”

  “My mother…” She traced the picture in front of her, her mind still full of gaps and holes. His knowledge about her life was overwhelming, and as she looked around at the filing cabinets, aware of the millions of pages that were lurking inside them—all she felt were questions. About herself, her mother, her real history. “What else do you know? Have you really read everything in here?”

  “Most of it, or at least I skimmed it when my father or I found it. You can ask me anything, I don’t care anymore.” His lips twitched as he watched the pained distress on her face. “I did tell you I’d ruin your life, didn’t I?”

  “You just ended the fairytale, how can you ruin something that wasn’t real?”

  Adam laughed low and nodded. “I guess that’s true. Go on, ask away. I promise I’ll tell you anything I know.”

  “I don’t even know where to start.” She reached for one of the papers on the table. “Where is Dr. Haisch?”

  “Dead. About eight years ago now, I broke into his house while he was in the hospital and took all the files and journals he’d kept from his time with your father. It answered a lot of questions.”

  “Are you going to kill my father?”

  “I think I’ve done worse than kill him, don’t you?”

  “How?” She caught his eyes as he glanced up at her.

  “I’ve taken you from him, haven’t I?” Adam gave that strange, lopsided smile, and then leapt out of his seat as a long beep emanated from his computer. Shaking the mouse, his screens came to life and he cursed under his breath as he pulled out the office chair.

  “What is it?”

  “I made a mistake somewhere. Fuck, what did I do?” His hands flew over the keyboard, and she watched as windows opened and closed on the screen. For a few minutes he muttered under his breath, the clatter of the keys the only noise besides the hum of the computer. “DAMMIT!”

  The shout made her jump, and then he started to laugh quietly. A quality of madness to it that made her nervous. “What happened?”

  “You. You happened. I let you distract me, I let you inside my head, and sent the last email to your father unencrypted.” He grabbed one of the monitors and turned it so she could see the framework of surveillance cameras, and in the bottom left square were two figures. “And now the wolves are at the door, princess. Looks like you’re getting out early.”

  Part of her wa
s relieved. Rescue, escape, freedom. No more locked room, no more violence, but a smaller part, the part that hummed at the base of her spine when she thought of his hands on her, felt regret. A twisted sense of losing something. “Where are they?”

  “At the double doors—which are locked by the way.” Adam sighed and turned around in the chair, rubbing his face before he pushed his hands into his dark hair. He was so beautiful, so damaged, so corrupted by everything her father had done. He had let it destroy him, had let it eat him alive until he was barely human anymore, and she couldn’t suppress the pity as he raised those tawny brown eyes to her. “I feel like I should apologize, but I’m not even a little sorry that I took you, princess, and I told you I wouldn’t lie to you.”

  She ignored his comment, a sense of urgency rising in her. “I have more questions.”

  “You better ask them fast, or you’re going to need to make an appointment at the penitentiary.” He was too calm now, too accepting, and it made her angry.

  “But I don’t even know what to ask, I don’t even know what pieces are missing!” The metallic bang of a door swinging into the concrete wall made her turn fast towards the doorway. Adam stood and moved to lean against the filing cabinets on the back wall. His chest bare, all that carved muscle on display as he crossed his arms and waited. Like a defiant criminal waiting for the hangman.

  “Just don’t let him lie to you again, Rebecca. Don’t let him empty you out and turn you into the little doll he wants. You deserve the truth, don’t let him strip it away from you again.” She turned to meet his eyes, his blank, angelic expression, and then she heard a familiar voice.

  “REBECCA!” It was a shout of relief from her father’s head of security, the man she called Uncle Will, and he had a gun in his hands. “We’re here, we’ve got you. Quick, get away from him.”

  Her father appeared next to him, slightly wide-eyed, but relief passed over his face as soon as he saw her. “You’re okay. You’re alive,” his voice was warm and soft, the confident tones of a CEO reassuring reporters, but when he took a step towards her, she pulled back.

  “Rebecca, come on, sweetheart. We’ll handle this, and you don’t want to be here for it.” Will nodded at her, his eyes intensely focused on Adam, but she saw him adjusting his grip on the gun and she shook her head.

  “Go ahead, princess.” Adam took a few steps forward, and she closed her eyes tight as he spoke. “Time for you to go home.”

  “No, I’m not leaving yet.” She stared at William, ignoring Adam’s words. “You can’t kill him, I still have questions.” Rebecca had been avoiding her father’s gaze, unable to face him, but he suddenly grabbed Will’s gun.

  “This is ridiculous,” her father muttered, aiming the gun at Adam, but before she could think about it, she’d thrown herself in front of him, her arms wide as she tried her best to block his chest.

  “STOP! You can’t do this, he needs to be alive. I have—”

  “You are clearly upset, Rebecca, but I will fix this, and then everything can get back to normal. Now, come over here.” Her father was speaking to her like she was still a child, but he wasn’t lowering the gun and that meant she couldn’t risk moving.

  He wants to erase this like it never happened.

  Just like he erased my mother, and all of these other women.

  The papers under her feet caught her eye, and she found herself shaking her head. “Normal? There is no normal anymore. Do you know what this room is? What’s in all of these filing cabinets?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Her father sighed. “You’re safe now. William and I have found you, and we can just put this behind us.”

  “I can’t put this behind me! And all of the shit you’ve done? There’s no normal after reading that!” She kicked some of the papers towards him, and he lowered the gun to lean down and scoop them up. After a moment his jaw went tight, and his eyes flicked to the stacks of folders and papers across the table.

  “What is this?”

  “This? This is what you did to all those women, what you had Dr. Haisch do to all of them! Tell me, tell me if you really did this. Tell me the truth!” There were tears in her eyes, her voice breaking as she tried to hold onto her composure, to bring back the anger so she wouldn’t break down.

  Daniel Sinclair wadded up the papers in his hand and tossed them onto the table. “You’re upset, but while I’m not sure what he’s told you, I can assure you it is all easily explained. I can help you understand, but now it is time to move so William and I can finish cleaning up the mess you’ve made.”

  “My mess?” A bitter laugh burst from her lips, her eyes flipping to William, who avoided her gaze so she had to look back at her father. Baby blue eyes, pale blonde hair, immaculately put together—a monster. “You’re calling this my mess? I was taken because of you! So, what about the mess YOU created, Dad? What about all of this shit you’ve done, I mean, who the fuck are all of these women? What did you do to them? To my MOTHER?” Her voice rose until she was screaming, but the only reaction she got was an exasperated sigh.

  “I am done coddling you, Rebecca. You’re old enough to understand that not all children are born in some love story. I wanted a child, your mother agreed to provide me one. She was compensated for her time. Now, if you’re done with your temper tantrum, it is time to go.”

  “And what happened to her? What happened to her after you got me?”

  “That woman is not your concern, Rebecca. You should be grateful I worked so hard to get you, to get someone worthy of inheriting my company. Not just in having you born, but in all the time since. She birthed you, but I made you.” He gestured at her, his voice growing colder. “I gave you the best tutors, put you through the best college, I have given you every opportunity. You are my legacy, poised to inherit Monarch Systems, and for that you should be incredibly grateful.”

  “Grateful?” She laughed and she saw the flicker of rage on her father’s face, underneath the perfectly composed shell. “I should be grateful that I’m the result of every terrible thing you’ve done? Grateful that you destroyed others to turn me into some vessel to carry your name forward? Well, guess what, Dad? I don’t want to be your fucking legacy! In fact, I’m going to tell everyone what you’ve done. I’m going to be on every news station, in prime time, telling all your dirty secrets.” She was seething with righteous anger, glowing with it, when she felt Adam’s fingers wrap around her arm.

  “Princess, stop.” His whisper came from close behind, a touch of warning in his voice, but she shook him off.

  “I’m going to destroy your fucking legacy. Whatever piece of Monarch Systems is still standing, I’ll personally make sure it gets burned to the ground. For Clarissa, for the other women, for everyone you tore apart.”

  “All right, Rebecca. If that’s how you feel, if you don’t want my legacy, then you won’t have it.” He lifted the gun, and for the first time she saw the emptiness in his eyes. The soulless darkness underneath the prince charming façade—and then the world spun. The gunshot rang out too loud in the small room, someone shouted, and she found herself crushed against a warm chest, muscular arms tight around her.

  Looking up, she realized she was staring into Adam’s tawny brown eyes, too wide for a moment, and then he wavered on his feet, pain twisting his features as he released her. She let out a scream and tried to catch him as he collapsed to the floor, but he was too heavy, and she ended up on the floor with him. “Oh no. No, no, no, what the fuck did you do?”

  He’d protected her, taken the bullet her father had meant for her. In a panic she reached over his broad shoulders to search for the wound, and when her fingers found it he hissed air through his teeth.

  “Why did you do that? WHY?” she shouted at him, confused and terrified.

  A rough laugh slipped from him as he turned his neck to look up at her. “I have no idea. Being a fucking fool must run in the family.”

  His words made her chest ache and she looked back at her fathe
r, and then at William. “You have to get help, you have to—”

  “Oh, no, we don’t have to do anything, Rebecca, and we will definitely not be bringing any police into this.” Lifting the gun to point it at her again, her father shrugged. “It’s such a pity to lose you, you did look so nice during the photo ops.”

  She flinched, and just as she prepared for the gun to fire again, William touched her father’s arm. “Sir, I can handle this. There’s no need for you to be the one.”

  Daniel Sinclair sighed, his tone frigid when he spoke. “Well, you took care of the mother, might as well handle this as well.”

  The words stole the last of the air from her lungs on a sob, and she looked up at William to see if he would argue it, to see if it was a lie—but she could tell it wasn’t. He wouldn’t even meet her eyes.

  Monsters. She’d been surrounded by monsters and lies her entire life.

  Tears streaked her cheeks, but she felt Adam squeeze her arm and she looked down at him. His voice was weak, but she could still hear him. “I guess I should have left you in The Tower, princess, inside the fairytale. This wasn’t—” A fit of coughs cut him off, blurs of red on his lips when he stopped and she shook her head.

  “Uncle Will, you can’t do this.”

  “Handle it, William. I’ll be in the hall.” Her father passed the gun off like a dirty object, and turned to leave as she stared after him in disbelief.

  “Close your eyes, Rebecca.” William spoke but he wasn’t looking at her. He moved the gun into his firing hand, raised it to Daniel Sinclair’s head—and fired.

  The spray of blood and other matter made her scream. It was unreal, a nightmare. She covered her eyes as the dull sound of her father’s body collapsing to the floor filled her ears, and then there was a strange, buzzing silence.

  “Rebecca, sweetheart, are you all right? I—” Will’s voice was like a knife twisting between her ribs.

  “Don’t.” With a steadying breath, she looked at the man she had viewed as family her whole life, and felt a wave of disgust. “You killed my mother?”