by Stacy Lee
I didn’t mean to break the plate, he had surprised me. I didn’t mean to talk back to him (I only told the truth), it had slipped out without my permission. Now he was going to hurt me for it, I just knew it would be bad this time. It was always bad, but this time would be worse. I break through the stalks into the open field.
Before I can pick up speed a hand grabs my arm yanking me to a stop. I fall back on my butt to stare up at the angry face of Uncle. I scramble quickly to my feet out of the range of his size eleven steel toed boot, just missing the blow. My feet take steps backward on their own accord, his face twists into an ugly sneer and he grabs my arm once more.
“Oh, no you don’t, you little shit. No more running.” His other hand lashes out taking me across the face. I grit my teeth to keep from crying out. A thin line of blood trickles from my nose. “What happens when I have to run, Naveen?” His sinister voice makes my little body tremble with fear. The way he spits out my name like a curse makes me hate it even more. I preferred ‘little shit’ or ‘brat’ to the way he said my name.
“It’s worse on me.” I whisper. His hand lands across my face once more and I quickly rephrase the statement. “You have to punish me to remind me not to do it again, sir.” My voice is unemotional, I allowed no feelings to show when he ‘corrected’ me. If I let him see them, even once, he would expect me to break down every time and I couldn’t do that. It wasn’t me. I couldn’t fight him yet but one day I would be big enough to defend myself.
He takes my arms in his hands and shakes me furiously while screaming right in my face. His spittle drips from my nose to mix with the blood. “Why did my lousy sister have to leave me with you? Why couldn’t you have died instead of her? Or better yet, with her!” It was a question I asked myself all the every day. Why couldn’t I have died in her stead?
He releases me with a curse. His hands start to fly and I fall to the ground. I curl myself tightly in a ball leaving a small spot open to watch him from under my arm. I knew better than to take my eyes off him completely, that was just stupidity on my part.
The scene changes again. I’m curled up on the floor of the chopper, Dare crouched in front of me, his eyes still narrowed but not as cold as they had been. His hand reaches out to me and I scramble away, my heart beating madly in my chest. Uncle’s face superimposes over his and I cringe, closing my eyes.
Hands hold me down by my bare breasts, legs fight to slip between mine, my hands push against a boney chest, my eyes fly open to stare at the wild brown eyes of Dirk. I’m once again back in the clearing, naked and trapped under a man I thought was a friend, a man who kidnaped me at gunpoint and drove me here to die. A grave, four foot by two foot and three feet deep was dug out beside me, waiting for him to finish with his game before he threw me in it. His hands leave my chest and grab at my legs trying to force them open.
“I told you I wanted to be your first. That I would be gentle with you if you would only say yes. You made your choice, Naveen! Is this what you wanted? Are you happy now? You have made me do this!” I scream incoherently as I fight to keep him from his goal.
My chest begins to hurt, my lungs feel like they can’t hold any more air. I fall back against the ground and surrender to him, tears running from my eyes. I was tired of fighting men.
The struggle stops. The weight of his body disappears. Fingers lightly touch my cheek wiping away my tears. I turn my head to stare into the softest most amazing emerald eyes I have ever seen. It takes me a moment to realize they are Dare’s. I hadn’t seen that look in them before, only hardness.
“It’s alright Marnie, he’s gone. I need you to wake up now.” I shake my head, too exhausted to speak. I only wanted to close my eyes and let it all go. Death was preferable to this.
“I’m so tired of fighting.” The words come out as the barest whisper. His hand tenderly pushes my hair back away from my face, his lips lightly touch my temple in a soft kiss sending sparks dancing over my skin before he whispers in my ear.
“You will never have to fight like that again, I promise. You are safe now, Parvulum. Please wake up.”
My eyes flutter open to see those emerald jewels watching me. He has tucked his large body in beside me on a very small hospital bed but somehow he isn’t touching me anywhere but where his hand lays cupping my cheek. Out of instinct I scoot over further from his bodies reach. His hand on my face is distracting, the current I have felt every time he’s touched me burns with an intensity of painful.
A throat clears behind me, rapid typing following it. I crane my head back to take in a large screen and a woman with strawberry blonde hair. The screen shows flashes of Dare and things only my subconscious has thought of doing to him before it goes dark. The woman turns apologetic eyes to me.
“Sorry, it takes a minute to shut it down.” I scan the rooms occupants noticing none of them were looking me in the eyes.
“What was that?” I croak out through a dry aching throat. The man from the chopper, Jack, I think was his name, fills a glass with water and hands it to Dare. He places it against my lips and commands me to drink. I let the cool water sooth my throat before pushing it away and asking again in a stronger voice. “What was on the screen?” I knew what I saw, but I was having a hard time with acknowledging that they saw it to.
“Um, it’s a program that lets us see deep inside your brain. Your thoughts, unconscious or conscious, your dreams, stuff like that. We were monitoring the effects of the Morp Dare gave you.” I didn’t know what Morp was but the meaning behind her words were clear.
“You saw what I was dreaming about?” I whisper in horror. She nods sympathetically before averting her eyes. I whip my head around to face Dare. “You saw that?” I ask mortified. My biggest secret, my weakest moments, my worst fears, displayed on a screen for him to see.
“Yes.” His voice is low and raw as if what he saw had an effect on him. I didn’t buy it. Men didn’t care about things like that. They were only alive to hurt women, nothing more. I frantically start pulling the wires from my body. Ripping out my hair when I yank the ones from my temples off. I scratch at the ones on my back but can’t reach them.
“Take them off of me. Now!” I shout. The woman jumps to her feet and begins gently pulling on the sticky pads. “Just rip the damn things off.” I growl. This was taking too long, I needed to get out of here.
While she obliges my command Dare climbs from the bed putting much needed distance between us. As soon as the wires are gone I try to climb to my feet. Dare’s strong arms wrap around me, lifting me to his chest. I slap at him and try to shove him away but his grip is too much. “Put me down.” I growl out. He doesn’t listen, only continues to stride from the room.
“Not before eleven, Dare!” The woman’s voice rings out behind us laced with humor. I found nothing funny in this.
“Stop squirming. You don’t know the way and if you keep thrashing around like that you are going to tear your stitches.” He states this in an even voice, his earlier emotions gone. I think about his words for a moment then semi-relax. In other words I stop struggling but the tension does not leave my body.
“I’m only stopping because I don’t want you to drug me and watch my dreams again.” I mutter to his deep chuckle. Why was everyone finding me funny right now? “Where are you taking me?” I watch corridor after corridor slide by, turn after turn, and am sure I wouldn’t be able to find my way back there if my life depended on it.
“To our home.” His matter of fact tone sets me on fire. Our home? I never agreed to our home. I never agreed to him!
“And if I don’t want to go to your home?” I spit out in a defiant pout.
“To bad. You chose me.” I glare at him, his satisfied tone is even more annoying than his matter of fact one.
“I didn’t know what I was choosing, Dare! You can’t hold me to something that happened in a dream.”
“It wasn’t a dream. We drugged you to bring on The Choosing Vision. I am not supposed to get you excit
ed till tomorrow so let it drop, Marnie. I will explain it all then.”
“Let it drop? You are telling me you drugged me not once but twice, made me choose a ‘mate’ without my knowledge, then you watched my weakest moments on a damn computer screen and I’m supposed to let it drop?” I rant furiously. My hand goes to my chest as my heart rate increases and pain begins to radiate down my arms. He stops cold.
“Marnie, I need you to calm down. The drug I gave you will cause a stroke if you get upset. Please, we will talk about it, just not with you in danger like this.” His tone suggests there is no other choice for me to make and the pain in my chest agrees.
“Fine.” I huff then let my head fall to his chest. A deep inhale provides me with his unique smell of woods and man relaxing me. I try to work out why exactly that would relax me when I hated men, especially the smell of them. Sweat and booze were what every man I knew smelt like, even the pastor who comes into the coffee shop I work at. That wasn’t how Dare smelt. His aroma was more power and earth. A swooshing announces our arrival as we walk through an open door then swishes again when the door closes behind us.
“There is a thumb scanner and an override password to enter or exit, we will set you up with that later. Security cameras are in front of every door with someone monitoring them constantly, hence the door opening without my using the scanner. Until we get you in the system they will let you in if I’m not with you.” He continues through a front room that’s sparsely decorated with only a couch, recliner and TV, into a hallway to the last door on the right. “Can you turn the knob?”
I oblige him, swinging the door open to reveal an enormous bathroom right out of my dream house. On the right wall is an obnoxiously large whirlpool tub, on the left is a his and her vanity and a toilet, straight in front of us a shower takes up the entire wall. Seven showerheads adorn the tiles in different heights, one over seven feet from the marble flooring. I guess when you stand over six foot you needed a tall showerhead. All but one of them were above my four foot eight. He sits me on the chair that was tucked under the vanity then steps away.
“I’ll be right back.” When he hurries from the room I wonder if the man is going to insist on showering with me. God, I hoped not. I really needed a me moment to sort out the last few days. He returns quickly with a roll of duct tape and saran wrap. I arch my brow at him and scoot further back in the chair. He grins.
“Can’t have those stitches getting wet. Lift your skirt.” I eye him for a moment then do as he asks, making sure nothing but the wounded leg shows. Deftly he rips off a piece of plastic covering the stitched area before he seals its edges with the duct tape.
Standing leisurely he lets his fingers slide up my leg, slowing on the handprints that were etched into my skin in a deep purple. He opens his mouth then nods to the shower letting it snap shut, seemingly thinking better of whatever he was going to say. Stepping up to the side he turns on the water for me.
“Towels are under the sink. I’ll lay a shirt out for you in my room, the door two down on the left.” With that he’s gone, shutting the door quietly behind him.
Alone for the first time since helping him I let my shoulders slump forward in defeat. I knew what came next and wasn’t looking forward to it. Unconsciously I lock the door before standing in front of the mirror. Not that I believed a locked door would keep Dare out of anywhere but I learned early on that a locked door gave you warning before the attack came.
Taking a steadying breath I pull my shirt over my head to examine the myriad of bruises left from Dirk’s attack. My breasts were still slightly swollen from his rough handling of them, hand prints were on each one from him holding me down. Bruises also marred my ribs and stomach from his less than friendly attempts to keep me still.
After three days they were beginning to turn yellowish green but they were still very visible. Unable to look any longer I drop my skirt not even caring about the marks, handprints and cuts there and climb into the shower. Tears course down my cheeks and mingle with the hot water while I wash the experience away.
Tomorrow was a new day and on the bright side, I was no longer stranded in the woods alone and starving. But was I better off in the woods or Dare’s arms?
Chapter Four
What the hell is taking her so long? It took me twenty minutes to track down Angie to see if she could find Marnie something to wear other than my shirt. It would be fine for her to sleep in but she couldn’t parade around in it in front of other men. Although it will probably hang past her knees she is so tiny, she is mine alone to look at.
I have been pacing outside this door for another forty minutes waiting on her to come out. She locked the door, like that would keep me out if I wanted in. So far I have been respectful and left her alone. She had five more minutes and I was going in, locked door or not.
A growl rises from deep in my chest conveying my annoyance with myself. Just the thought of her in there naked was driving me crazy. If I hadn’t thought it would have scared her to death, literally, I would have suggested she let me help her. However, Angie was right and I needed to wait till the drugs left her system before I claimed her as mine. If she permitted me entrance into that shower with her, I wouldn’t have waited.
She is mine. I want to make her mine. My body hardens with the mental image of her standing under the water naked, steam rising around her, droplets running down her creamy skin, caressing her. Unconsciously my fangs drop, cutting my lip and drawing blood. I let out another frustrated growl and try to force them back where they belonged. This hadn’t happened since I was a teenager and even then it only happened twice.
“Did you just growl? I mean, really growl, like an animal?” My body tenses with her voice behind me. Thank the fates, I had my back to her, if she saw the fangs now it would surely send her into a Morp induced stroke. I had to explain things to her before she could see them, before she could understand what I was. They finally retract with the thought.
“Are you done?” I ask, keeping my back to her for a moment longer while not answering her question.
“Yes. I, um… I need to get past you.” Even in her indecision to walk past me her voice stays strong. I turn to face her and immediately regret it. One of my large towels is wrapped around her petite frame. Her breasts are being pushed up with how tightly she was holding the towel to her body. The short length confirming her lean muscular legs are those of a woman who likes to run often. This shouldn’t surprise me with how she kept pace with me in the forest but for some reason it does. How did I not notice this pleasing feature sooner? Her light blonde hair was pulled over her shoulder to hang within an inch of the top of the towel. A drop of water rolls from the underneath her hair across her collarbone to dip between her breasts.
The image is too much for my precariously teetering body and my fangs punch through once more without permission. She gasps and takes a step backwards, a look of horror clearly on her face. I clinch my hands beside my legs and try to reign in my precious control. I never lost control. Never! I lift my eyes to meet hers.
“Run. Go to the room and shut the door. I will be there when I calm down.” She eyes me with trepidation. Hugging the wall she passes me quickly. As soon as she clears my body her feet begin to move rapidly, she runs to the room and slams the door. The lock snicks into place. I chuckle. “That lock won’t hold me out if I want in, Marnie.” It’s said to myself but the small gasp I hear behind the door conveys she heard me.
I stomp into the kitchen and retrieve a Coke from the refrigerator. It wasn’t what I wanted, Marnie’s blood would be preferable at the moment, but Coke had a way of making the fangs retract when they weren’t wanted. A little trick we figured out shortly after it was first invented when Fin couldn’t control his fangs in the human public. If we made him carry a Coke with him he could sniff it every few minutes and something in the smell would help keep them where they went. Taking a drink also worked to force them back where they belonged when you were out of control.
> This was the first time I’d had to use it. My brothers would find this situation completely amusing. The only reason I had it in my fridge is I enjoyed the flavor with a meal every now and then. I wasn’t a wine or alcohol drinker so this was my vice when I needed to relax. And boy, did I need to relax. Once the can is empty I start for my bedroom and the little bitty human that had my head and body tied into knots.
I knock on the door and wait to see if she will answer it. Surprisingly, she does. She swings it open then takes three steps backward before she stops, straightens her shoulders and lifts her chin. The obvious stance of a woman facing her fear. Pride swells in me at her courage but annoyance at myself for being the cause of that fear squashes it. Her eyes zero in on my mouth and hold there for a moment before her gaze flits away looking at anything but me.
“Are you a Vampire?” She asks in a sturdy voice that wobbles on the last word. I shake my head. Her eyes widen with a look of utter disbelief. “Then what are you? You have fangs, run at the speed of light and you growl like an animal, Dare. I know you aren’t human.” I cock my head to take in her expression. She was trying very hard to be strong, nevertheless deep in her bright blue eyes her terror was showing.
“I would rather have this conversation tomorrow when you are healthy enough to hear it.” I state as I take a step towards her. Her foot lifts like she is going to retreat before she firmly places it back on the ground. Wise woman. Retreat would stir the animal inside me to hunt. The only thing either of us wanted right now, was her. Running would be very bad for her.
“Except for a few bouts of temper and fear, I think I have been a good sport so far in this adventure. I deserve to know what is going on. Where am I? What are you? Do you drink blood? Will you bite me? What do you plan on doing with me? Why do you seem to keep drugging me? What’s at eleven?” The last question makes my eyes widen in surprise. “That woman told you to wait till eleven. What’s at eleven?”
