Dark Rapture_A Disturbing Psychological Thriller

by Logan Fox

  She followed Seth to the pool. He waded in and beckoned her to follow, holding out a meaty hand for her to take. She considered ignoring it but then took it anyway.

  Setting her drink on the side of the pool, Pearl submerged herself in the warm water. It wrestled a sigh out of her, and she closed her eyes as she was enfolded in a cocoon of warmth.

  Water swirled around her, and she opened her eyes to the bulk of Seth. He held out both hands now. Pearl twisted around, downed the rest of whatever it was he’d poured her and slid her hands into his.

  He drew her out to the middle of the pool, where it was too deep for her feet to touch the bottom.

  Her legs complained mightily. “Seth—”

  Her handler’s fingers glided up the underside of her arms, drawing her closer. Pearl stiffened, staring up at him. Orange light warmed his eyes, casting an ethereal glow over his face and body. The end of his beard was wet and lay in scraggly locks over his chest.

  Pearl shrugged. When he held her like this, she didn’t have to swim: she could just drift as he supported her. It was strangely relaxing, the mix of warm water, moonlight, whatever had been in the drink.

  Seth yanked her closer. He slid his hands under her knees and lifted her up. Then he spun her around in the water until she squealed for him to stop. When he came to a stop, the pool was choppy and noisy, water splashing over the sides to wet the pale concrete.

  Pearl swallowed a laugh and slid her hands around Seth’s neck in case he wanted to take her for another turn.

  “You kept it on,” Seth rumbled, his eyes falling to the collar around her neck.

  “Wasn’t I supposed to?” Her voice was steadier, her mind not as fuzzy and empty as before.

  “It’s not right,” Seth said. And now a hint of tightness had entered his voice. Anger? Frustration? “It’s too soon.”

  “Too soon for what?”

  His eyes darted away from her, his mouth tightening.

  “Too soon for what, Seth?”

  “You enjoyed it?”

  “You were watching.” She snorted. “Did it look I was?”

  “It did,” Seth said, but his voice sounded as far off as his gaze. “Take that thing off. You only have to wear it when you see him again.”

  “Again?” Water swished as Pearl tugged herself closer in an attempt to draw Seth’s eye. “I’m seeing him again?”

  “I told you this would happen,” Seth said, his jaw bunching. “That you’d get a wolf of your own. One that’ll keep coming back to see you.”

  Seth lifted his hand and tugged at the ribbon around her throat, eyes narrowing.

  “The arrogant son-of-a-bitch’s already collared you. You don’t… that’s not…” He broke off with a growl and forced his eyes away from her face.

  “Collared?” Pearl touched the band around her throat. “So I belong to him?”

  “Yes,” Seth said. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t belong to someone else too.”

  She stared up at him, searching his face for the meaning behind those cryptic words.

  “What are you saying?” She tightened her grip, tugging at him until he looked at her.

  Seth shrugged, his muscles bunching under her wrists.

  “He’ll be asking you to do things for him when he’s away. And you’ll have to report back to him when you see him again.”

  “Okay,” Pearl gave a nod and tipped her head back, staring up at the sky’s glorious gradients. “But it wasn’t that bad. Not as bad as I’d thought, anyway.”

  “What did you expect?” This was delivered in a quiet murmur as Seth began twirling her around again — slower this time.

  Warm water washed over her body, and she let her head fall back so it dragged through the water.

  “I don’t know.”

  Seth stopped. He released her, leaving just his hands under her shoulders and thighs, and supported her as she drifted on the surface of the water.

  They stayed that way for a long time — Seth supporting her as she floated. Twilight became full dark, and stars popped out in their thousands to sprinkle the darkening sky with diamond-dust.

  She had enjoyed it. It had made her feel vulnerable and exposed to let a complete stranger take control of her like the wolf had.

  But at the same time, so… vindicating. A mental release. No thought: just obedience. No worries: just pleasure. No concept of time: only a span of ecstasy that lasted into infinity.

  Pearl grabbed hold of the ribbon around her neck, sliding her fingertips behind it and running the pad of her thumb over its silky surface.

  She belonged to him now.

  “What did you mean?” Pearl turned to face her handler.

  Seth stared down at her with unreadable eyes, his mouth set in a grim line. For just a moment, she felt a strong, ephemeral tug from him. It made her want to reach for him, to draw him close… to press her lips to his.

  But she wouldn’t make an idiot out of herself again. If he felt that same pull, if he wanted to have her mouth on his then, this time, he would have to—

  “You belong to the Fox Pit,” Seth said. “The wolf is just borrowing you. Anyone… everyone else, is just borrowing you.”

  She gaped at him, and then closed her mouth. Well, technically she did belong to the Fox Pit, didn’t she? She’d sold herself to them — the owners — after all. Agreed to become a slave for money. She was just a well-paid prostitute.

  Seth’s fingertips dug into her flesh as he drew her closer. She shifted, reaching for his shoulders. But instead of drawing her into the embrace she’d been expecting, Seth slid his hand around the back of her neck.

  There was a sharp click as he snatched away the ribbon collar. Pearl grabbed her throat, eyes wide when it touched only skin.

  “You don’t want Tanner to see this, trust me.” Seth bundled the ribbon in his fist and pushed away from her, swimming to the side of the pool and dragging himself out.

  Water cascaded from his body as he straightened. He glanced at her over his shoulder and beckoned again, crouching at the side and holding out his hand for her.

  “Come on, kitten. Tanner’s waiting.”

  Pearl drew an unsteady breath and paddled toward Seth.

  “For what?” she asked as Seth hauled her free of the pool’s warm clutches.

  “For you.”

  She’d forgotten about dinner with Tanner, but Tanner hadn’t. Despite everything, the man that had bought her still wanted to have a dignified meal with his latest purchase.

  Pearl tried to push the sour thought from her mind, but her face kept solidifying as Seth dried her hair and handed her the standard-issue yellow dress and matching underwear.

  “I get to wear underwear this time?” she said, holding a pair of lacy panties in front of Seth’s face as he ran a brush through her hair.

  They were in the bathroom in the fox den. Morgan and Ivy were both in the tub, resting their heads on padded up towels as hidden jets frothed the water into mounds of bubbles.

  “Yes,” Seth muttered.

  “I couldn’t wear any when I met Caden,” Pearl said, stepping into the underwear as Seth tried to swipe the brush through her hair. “Seems weird.”

  “That’s because I never know what Caden wants. It’s easier that way.”

  “He made me strip and twirl around like a fucking ballerina the first time I met him,” Ivy said in her flat, emotionless voice. “Said he wanted a good look at all my piercings.”

  “He was cataloging them,” Seth said. “The guests are very—”

  “He groped me,” Morgan cut in. She lifted herself free of the tub’s water, baring her large breasts. “Said he wanted to make sure they were real.”

  “Not everyone—” Seth tried again, but this time Pearl cut him off.

  “I got off lucky then,” she said, snatching the brush from Seth’s hands and swiping it a last time through her hair. “He just made me fill out a form about every disgusting thing I’ve ever done.”

 
Morgan and Ivy burst out laughing, but Seth growled under his breath and they quickly hushed up again.

  “Stop stalling.” He grabbed her arm just above her elbow and began herding her toward the door. “You’re pretty enough.”

  “Good luck, Pearl,” Morgan called out.

  “Get enough tequila in him, he might just void your contract,” Ivy added.

  “He would?” Morgan asked, sounding genuinely intrigued at the idea.

  “It’s worth a shot, right?” Ivy said. There was a splash. “Seth, baby, she can take herself. I need someone to wash my back.”

  Pearl was spun about as Seth faced the two women in the tub. Ivy had swum over to Morgan’s side and had her arms propped on the side, her mouth pushed out in a pout.

  “Morgan’s right next to you,” Seth said.

  “She’s too rough,” Ivy lay her hands flat on the bathroom floor and arched her back. “Please…?” she crooned.

  “I’ll be back later,” Seth said with a growl.

  “I’m getting out in two minutes,” Ivy called out, turning around and heading back for her side of the tub.

  Seth tugged Pearl out of the bathroom and practically ran up the stairs with her.

  “Still married, right?” Pearl said, unable to keep her tone close to anything approaching polite.

  “Enough, kitten.”

  “Does your wife know it’s an open marriage?”

  Seth turned on her. Pearl shrank away, her shoulders slamming into the smooth wall behind her. They were on the stairwell, a few steps below Caden and Seth’s floor. In the narrow space, Seth looked too large to be real.

  “My marriage?” Seth murmured. “My wife, my life: none of your fucking business. You got something to say, then keep it to yourself. Got it?”

  He started up the stairs again before she could manage a reply.

  Pearl sat with her hands clutched in her lap, ankles together, and eyes fixed on the swathe of stars visible through the windows in front of her. Tanner Stark’s apartments were on the top level of the Fox Pit and its intimate dining room commanded a one-hundred-eighty-degree view of the outside world.

  Pearl felt eyes on her and risked a glance over her shoulder. Tanner’s two bodyguards were still stationed at either end of the archway leading into the dining room. One had his back to her and the other faced her direction. She gave the man a tiny smile, but his face could have been carved from black stone for all the response she received.

  “—as long as you don’t bring those slaughtered animals anywhere close to me,” Tanner yelled out behind Pearl.

  She jumped, her hands gripping even tighter as the billionaire strode into view. He paused at her side, tapping his nail against the side of her wine glass.

  “You haven’t even touched it. Rather want something pink or bubbly?”

  Pearl shook her head and took up the wine glass. She glanced up at Tanner and touched the glass to her lips.

  “It’s fine. Thank you.”

  Tanner cocked his head to the side in a half-shrug and moved to the seat beside her. He tugged it back and sat down, immediately twisting around and narrowing his eyes at the doorway.

  “Scotty wanted to bring us calf livers. That chef has some nerve.”

  Then he faced her, his glare instantly replaced with a wide grin that made his gray eyes sparkle. Pearl took a deep swallow of her wine.

  Tanner laid an arm over the back of his dining chair, facing her as he reached for his own wine glass. He held it out, its contents in danger of spilling over the rim as he tipped it toward her.

  “Welcome to the Fox Pit, Pearl.”

  She gingerly touched the edge of her glass to his — it was probably crystal or a-hundred karat diamond or something — and took another swallow. It did help with the nerves, after all.

  Tanner drank down about half of his wine before grimacing and setting the glass down.

  “Caden told me what happened the other night. With the driver.”

  Pearl didn’t want to look at him. She wanted to keep her eyes fixed on the starry night. But the silence stretched between them like warm bubblegum until she couldn’t stand it anymore.

  “It was my fault. I… shouldn’t have gotten into the car with him.”

  “Your fault?” Tanner made a small noise in the back of his throat, and she turned to look at him. His eyes were on the fingers she had wrapped around her wine glass. “Not even remotely. Caden likes everything tied in a neat little bundle, all nicely organized. People going around assaulting other people… that’s not neat. There’s no organizing that shit.”

  A woman entered the dining room wearing a white chef’s hat and uniform. Her strawberry blond hair was braided in an intricate plait that dangled over her shoulder as she set a plate down in front of Pearl.

  “Soup?” Tanner leaned back as the woman set another wide, low bowl in front of him.

  “You say no kiddie meat. You get no kiddie meat.” The woman spoke with a faint Russian accent. She straightened and crossed her arms over her chest. “Taste. Tell me what other job I must be doing.”

  Tanner laughed softly and leaned toward Pearl with a conspiratorial grin on his face.

  “Don’t you think she’d make a great school teacher? You know, the kind you get in those remote hostels where everyone wears tartan?”

  The chef let out a harrumph and left the dining room at a near stomp.

  Tanner chuckled quietly as he dunked a slab of crusty bread into the soup. His mirth ended abruptly when he put the dripping bread in his mouth. Pearl tried tearing her eyes away, but Tanner’s sun-darkened face had broken into a look of such abject astonishment that it was impossible to do so.

  “By Jove,” Tanner murmured. “She had to have sold her soul to the devil to be able to cook this well.”

  His eyes flashed to her, trapping her gaze before she could look away.

  “Try it. You’ll love it.”

  Pearl took a sip of the soup. “Wow.”

  “Exactly.” Tanner busied himself with annihilating the remainder of his bread.

  Her bowl was empty before Tanner’s; it had been hours since she’d last eaten and her stomach woke with an angry growl.

  Tanner snapped his fingers over his shoulder. “Scotty!”

  The woman that arrived to take their plates wasn’t Scotty. Tanner caught hold of the girl’s wrists — she couldn’t have been older than eighteen — and tugged her close.

  “Would you be so kind as to give my compliments to the chef?” Tanner said in a low murmur.

  The girl blushed a fiery red and nodded, scurrying away as soon as Tanner released her. Pearl heard a distant clank and raised voices, individual words undecipherable.

  The owner of the Fox Pit looked much more distinguished tonight than he had in his yellow swimming trunks. He wore a lime button-up shirt with the first three buttons undone and a pair of faded slim-fit jeans. He was still barefoot, and his hair was as disarrayed now as it had been the first time she’d seen him, but his air of authority had almost tripled. What would he look like in a suit? Or a tuxedo?

  He could take over the world.

  Scotty emerged seconds later, while Tanner was grimacing around another mouthful of wine.

  “I quit,” she said, sliding Pearl’s plate onto the table with almost enough force to knock her wine glass over.

  Pearl grabbed the glass, downing what was left of the wine in case more antics were on the way.

  “I don’t know,” Tanner mused as Scotty slammed his plate down. “Looks good to me. Let me taste it first before you go into hysterics.”

  “Last week I make veal shank.” Scotty stabbed the table with her finger. “You like. This week I made veal shank, you throw fit like little child.”

  “I’m vegetarian, Scotty. I told Caden to send you a memo. He did send you a memo, right?”

  “Memo?” Scotty pointed a derogatory finger toward Tanner’s plate where a square of lasagna was slowly oozing glorious sauces onto the pristin
e plate beneath. “I don’t believe this memo. You always eat the meat. From first day I start work. What change now?”

  Tanner used the side of his fork to carve away a section of the lasagna.

  “The animals, Scotty. Think of all those poor, defenseless—”

  But Scotty stormed off with a snort before Tanner could tell her about the poor defenseless animals. The triangle of lasagna disappeared into his mouth.

  “I have to marry this woman,” Tanner said around his mouthful of food. He turned to Pearl, making her jump. “Taste it and tell me you wouldn’t start batting for the other team and have her adopted babies.”

  Pearl tasted the lasagna. An involuntary “Mmmm…” came out of her before she could stop it.

  “Exactly,” Tanner said.

  They spent the remainder of the lasagna’s life span in silence. The only sounds were the scrape and tinkle of cutlery against crockery, and Tanner taking the occasional swallow of wine.

  The fiery-cheeked girl came to remove their plates. This time, Tanner’s message to the chef was whispered in the girl’s crimson ear. She almost left a smoke trail in her wake with the speed she departed. After watching the girl leave with a smile curling the left side of his mouth, Tanner went over to the drink station.

  “More wine?”

  “I’m fine, thanks.”

  She watched him pour something with his back to her.

  “I’ve heard good things about you, Pearl.”

  She stiffened at this, forcing her hands flat on her thighs and using her palms to smooth down her skirt. When she didn’t reply, Tanner twisted his torso to face her, sandy eyebrows cocked. He had a bottle of tequila in his hand, and she could see two thin shooter glasses in front of him, both full.

  “Oh, I—” she began, pointing at the glasses.

  “These are for me,” he said, giving her a rueful smile. He tossed back both shots, shoved the empty glasses between his fingers, and returned to the table with glasses and bottle in hand.

  He set everything down with a rattle, shoving their wine glasses out of the way with his elbow.

  “Do you like it here so far?”

  Pearl managed a shrug, keeping her eyes on the tequila. She didn’t recognize the make, but she caught a whiff of its eye-watering contents as Tanner poured another two shots.