Trapped: Her Love Story

by Shannon Youngblood

  “Please, let me help,” Paxton cooed.

  “No, fuck you,” I wailed.

  I let my walls crumble, I let myself break, and when the sobbing started, I couldn’t stop it. My body pressed into the cool basement floor, depleted of life, and endurance. I didn’t even have the strength to wipe away the snot coming from my nose. I let my eyes close and sleep attempt to claim me. At least if I were unconscious, I wouldn’t feel the pain surging through my body and ripping my mind in half. This was it for me, my will to live was gone, and not even Paxton would be able to bring it back.

  My last thought as I dove into blissful oblivion was, even though I knew drowning wasn’t the most peaceful way to die, it was certainly pain-free. Maybe if I timed it right, my next bath could be my last.

  My entire world was shrouded in darkness, my eyes refusing to open. I could feel the crust around my lids, making it impossible to pry them open without force. I was on my stomach when the smell of bleach and cucumber melon assaulted my nostrils. Trying to recall my last thoughts, I let myself float to the edge of consciousness.

  My ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton as my surroundings came into audio awareness. I knew I was back in my bed, but couldn’t remember how I had gotten there, and I refused to open my eyes for now. If I didn’t open them, maybe I could live in this blissful purgatory land between sleep and awake forever, never allowing the thoughts of my current situation into my brain.

  The muffled sounds of speaking pried its way into my head. Someone was talking to me, or at me. I wasn’t quite sure. Suddenly, everything came in with crystal clarity.

  “Wendy Darling. I love you so much. I will find a way to get you out of this. Can you hear me? Please give me a sign you can hear me. You’ve been asleep for nearly two days, and you’re starting to scare me.”

  Paxton’s words rang in loud and clear, sending my heart aflutter and my brain running. His words sounded so sincere, it ripped my still beating heart out. I tried desperately to remember everything that had happened before I slipped into sleep lying on the cold basement floor.

  Of course, Paxton had nursed me back to health. He would never leave me to rot on the ground no matter how many times I told him I didn’t want his help; and I had said to him, multiple times. If only I could remember what happened after I had given up. It was apparent, I was clean, and my wounds were tended to, but I didn’t recall any of it.

  “Wendy Darling. Come back to me,” his lips pressed onto mine.

  Memories of the night stormed through my head with just that simple motion. The men, Bill, the torture, my hair, the crawling. All of it came in short spurts, flitting behind my closed eyes before a new image appeared. I tried desperately to stay calm at the onslaught of grim reminders, but I could feel the bile coming up my esophagus.

  Peeling my eyelids away, and looking to Paxton, he immediately knew what I needed. Grabbing an empty bowl from the side of the bed, he gently lifted my head and positioned me over it.

  I heaved. Over and over, nothing but angry superlatives exited my mouth. Paxton soothed me with calming words, doing what he had wanted to do a few nights ago. He didn’t rub my back like he normally would have, but I was thankful. I was still sore, and now more than ever, I felt stiff and unbending.

  When my stomach muscles calmed, and Paxton replaced the bowl to the nightstand, I sunk my head back into my pillow, closing my eyes as drowsiness washed over me yet again.

  “Don’t go back to sleep, Wendy Darling. You need to eat,” Paxton whispered in my ear.

  Opening my eyes, I let myself get lost in his eyes. He looked different. He looked frazzled. His eyes told me a story of heartache and compassion and war. He was fighting with himself, and my guess, also with Preston. Sitting on the bed next to me, he looked at me, looked through me, as if seeing me for the first time.

  As gingerly as possible, I lifted my hand to his face. “You look so sad,” I was barely able to rasp out, my throat was so raw and scratchy.

  “I am sad, Wendy Darling.”

  “Why?”

  “You know why,” he growled, grabbing my hand, and pressing a kiss to my palm.

  “Tell me,” I coaxed.

  “No.”

  “Please,” I begged. “Please.”

  “There’s nothing I can do,” he whispered, his head falling.

  He was only half right. There was nothing he could do about our situation. This was my fate. I was destined to become the slave of a rich man and do his bidding until they day I died or until the day he killed me. There was no escape from my life’s outcome.

  But there was something he could do now.

  “You’re wrong, Paxton,” I told him, needing him to hear me.

  “I’m not wrong, girl,” he raged, bounding from the bed and pacing the floor. “There’s nothing I can do to get you out of this. I’m a slave, just as much as you are. I’m bound to Preston in ways I don’t want to be, in ways I can never escape from. Preston will always be a part of me; with me, and he’ll never forgive me, or himself if he fails now. You’re so close to being perfect, and he’s so close to repaying my debts. There’s, NOTHING I can do. Preston owns you. He owns me. We can’t ever leave!”

  Each word out of his mouth grew progressively louder as if he was trying to tell Preston instead of me.

  “You’re wrong, Paxton,” I said again, this time letting him know my real meaning.

  “Yes. We are trapped in this hell of lies and deceit. Yes, my outcome is already destined, but there is something you can do for me. Something I need you to do for me.”

  “Anything, Wendy Darling. Anything,” he fell to his knees beside the bed, his face aligned with mine.

  “Love me, as I love you, and hold my love here,” I took his hand and placed it over his heart. “Take me with you when I’m gone, and never stop loving me.”

  “You — you love me?” Paxton asked with an uncertainty and vulnerability I hadn’t expected, filling his words.

  “How could you ever think otherwise?” I responded.

  “But look at what I did to you,” he motioned around the room, his words, and his eyes broken.

  “You didn’t do this, Paxton. Preston did. You’re the one who saved me from this. Right before I passed out the other night, my last thought was how quickly I could drown myself in the bath,” I whispered, revealing my suicidal thoughts.

  “No! You can’t kill yourself!” Paxton roared catching me off guard at the sudden change in his demeanor as he got back to his feet.

  “I was so angry and broken, Paxton. I was pissed at Preston, pissed at Bill, livid one hundred men had claimed me. Most of all, I was angry at you, for lying to me about Bill.”

  Holding my hand up to stop Paxton from interrupting me, I continued. “But now I know, as I’ve always known. You did it to protect me, to heal me, to keep me whole. If you had told me who you were when I first arrived, I wouldn’t have made it past the first week. I would have hated you instantly, and I wouldn’t have let you try and put me back together after every failed assignment. So, yes. The betrayal I felt, was harsh, and I pushed you away the other night. But I’m not pushing you away now. I don’t care who your family is. I only care about you. I only love you.”

  With no grace at all, I pushed the blankets off of me, and carefully sat up, halting Paxton from assisting me.

  “There is nothing you can do or say to me, Paxton, that will stop my heart from beating only for you. You are my savior. You are the reason I keep going. You are my heaven in this fire and brimstone world. I love you. Let me love you.”

  With precarious balance, I sank to my knees in front of him. I unbuttoned his pants, and unzipped him, taking his growing cock into my mouth before he could protest. As if to prove his own love, and knowing what I needed, he took my bare scalp in his hands, rubbing his fingers along every subtle ridge before gripping my head and pushing me down his shaft.

  He wasn’t soft about it. He knew I didn’t do soft. But he let me pace my
self, only guiding me when needed. He let me show my love in the only way I knew how, and after he had erupted down my throat, he showed me his love in the only way he knew how; leaving me spent and satiated wrapped in his arms. The pain in my body a distant memory to the love coursing through me.

  I couldn’t carve him out like I said I would, like I wanted to the night I gave up. He was ingrained in my brain, my heart, and my body. I only hoped it would be enough to get me through the nights to come after I didn’t have his arms around me, and his nurturing touch repairing my damaged soul.

  As we laid there in the darkness, wrapped in silence, we both knew we had reached a turning point. I wouldn’t be here much longer, in fact, it could only be a few more days according to Paxton. We were both attached, and leaving would be worse than losing all of my hair, but I would carry these last few days in my heart for the rest of my life. A year ago, I found myself trapped in Preston’s basement, and now I was trapped again, except this time, it was in Paxton’s heart.

  Chapter 12

  “No, Paxton, no.”

  I could hear Preston screaming in my dreams. I flinched with every word, his voice like nails on a chalkboard.

  “I love her, Preston. You can’t do this,” Paxton’s voice calmed me.

  “I can, and I am. We’ve worked too hard—” Preston’s voice cut off.

  With a start, I woke up, sitting up in bed, the sheet clutched to my chest. This wasn’t a dream. Preston and Paxton were yelling, their voice coming through the speaker system.

  What was happening? Why were they yelling about me, to me through the PA? Suddenly, their voices were back.

  “You’re a weak, pathetic, fucking excuse for a man, Paxton. You’ve fallen in love with a fucking whore, who is only good for one thing!”

  “She’s not a whore. She’s beautiful,” Paxton responded, his voice wavering, scaring me more than Preston’s ever could.

  I had never heard Paxton so meek, so small. Was it possible Paxton was just as scared of Preston as I was? The thought made me shiver. Paxton was the epitome of an alpha male in my book, but it seemed as if, his brother had the ultimate control over him.

  “Beautiful?” Preston questioned, “Beautiful? She has no hair!” He roared.

  “Because of you,” Paxton found his voice.

  “You’re damn fucking right. She bit Bill, Paxton. She bit him, almost took off his fucking dick, and almost ruined our chances at selling her. Don’t you want to be fucking free? To leave this God forsaken hell hole? We’re almost done, and then you will be free to move on. Or are you too caught up in some whore’s pussy?”

  The silence was deafening, as I waited for him to respond. To say anything. I knew his freedom was important, but was it more important than me?

  “I can feel your emotions, Paxton. You want out. You want to go to a better place. Is she fucking worth it?”

  “Yes,” his small reply had me letting out the breath I had been holding.

  “Bullshit. I know you fucking hate me Paxton, and maybe you should, but we are almost complete, and I will not let you ruin this for us. If I have to lock you inside, I will. I don’t want to have to do that. I hate having to, but I will. Don’t tempt me. I am stronger than you will ever be.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  The mic cut out suddenly, making me grip the sheet harder. If Preston locked Paxton away, I was as good as gone. I would never see him again, and if I was to be sold in the next few days as Paxton suggested, I needed one more night with him. One more night to carry with me to my fate.

  The door to my basement chambers flung open abruptly, making me screech in shock and fear, immediately replaced with love, and exhilaration as Paxton shut it and strode over to me.

  “I don’t know how long I have, Wendy Darling. Preston is ready to sell you now, and I tried stopping him, but he’s adamant. He won’t budge,” he explained, crawling into bed next to me and nuzzling my neck.

  “I know. I heard,” I responded.

  “What do you mean, you heard? How did you hear?” His eyes came up, crunched together.

  “One of you must have been sitting on the microphone or something. I heard every word,” I replied in between kissing him. I didn’t want to stop touching him, knowing this was probably our final night.

  “I’m not strong enough to take him on, Wendy Darling. I wish I was, but I’m not. He has too much power over me. I want you to listen to me very carefully, ok?” He asked, looking me deep in my eyes.

  “Tonight, after he goes to sleep, I will slip in here. Be ready to leave as soon as I arrive. We’ll only have a short window before he comes around to check the cameras. Now that he knows, he’s gonna check. You need to be long gone by then. I’ll take your whereabouts to my grave. I won’t let him find you.”

  My mouth hung open in shock. How was this even possible? How was he going to manage to sneak me out without Preston knowing? It seemed futile. I’d just surrendered to my fate, and now hope was blooming in my chest all over again. A thought stopped me in my tracks.

  “What about your debt. You need twelve,” I asked.

  “We’ll get someone else. Please don’t worry. I just need to know you’re safe and will listen to me.”

  My brain yelled at me, screamed at me. How could I let another innocent girl go through the traumas I had experienced? At the same time, how could I not push for my own freedom? It was another catch-22, and I was stuck right in the middle of it.

  “Will I ever see you again?” I asked, tears welling up in my eyes.

  “I don’t think so. When he realizes, it was me who let you out, he will probably try and get rid of me once and for all.”

  “Will you fight back?”

  “With every bone in my body, but he is so much stronger than me. I don’t think I can beat him.”

  “You have to, Paxton. I can’t do this without you,” I sobbed.

  “Listen to me, girl,” he commanded, grabbing my chin and looking me dead in the eye. “You can, and you will. I will make sure to give you everything you need to survive. If by some miracle, I am able to overpower him, I will find you. But if he wins, if he finally kills me, I need you to promise me you will live. Can you do that for me Wendy Darling? Can you live for me?”

  I nodded my head, the lump in my throat making it impossible to respond. I didn’t want to live without him. Paxton had become a crutch I had relied on for too long and the thought of never seeing him again, although painful, was nothing compared to the ache that shot through me. Realizing he was sacrificing himself, and would most likely end up dead at my hand, gutted me.

  “I’ll always live on in here, though, right?” He asked, mirroring my actions from the other night and placing his palm over my heart.

  “You’re trapped in there, Paxton. I’m never letting you go,” I sobbed.

  “I never want you to.”

  His mouth was on mine, his fingers curling around my neck to bring me closer, his tongue demanding entrance, and my lips parting to grant it. It was as if he was trying to merge our two bodies into one, and I was willingly letting him. Our hearts were already inseparable, I could only hope our bodies would be too.

  “I need you, Wendy Darling, I need to be inside of you. Let me in,” he pleaded against my mouth.

  I spread my naked thighs, allowing his roaming hand access to the wet center of my being. We were both frantic, rushing, touching, groping, knowing this might be our last night together forever. Needing the release, we could only find in each other’s arms, but wanting to prolong it for as long as possible.

  When his fingers found my clit, my hips arched off of the bed, and a heady moan escaped my lips, only to be swallowed my Paxton’s kiss. Gentle fingers probed at my sensitive entrance, his thumb caressing my nerves, bringing me a pleasure I didn’t think was possible after my last punishment. Two of his digits entered me, slowly, gently, without a care in the world. With extreme care, he pushed them in further, tapping into the secret place inside of me
, opening my eyes to a world of vivid colors I’d never seen before.

  My orgasm took over sending waves of brightly colored pleasure splashing over me, my world spinning on its axis, before righting itself. But Paxton wasn’t done. We weren’t done. We had more to give each other, and more to take.

  Paxton threw the blanket off the bed, my skin popping up in goosebumps at the instantly chilled air hitting its heated state.

  “I’m going to take care of you, Wendy Darling, and every time a man touches you, you’ll think of me. You’ll think of my lips,” he placed a kiss on my sternum. “You’ll think of my fingers,” he continued, licking my cum off his digits. “You’ll think of my cock,” he finished, grabbing himself through his jeans.

  “There will never be anyone else, Paxton. Only you,” I cried when his clean fingertips, pinched my swollen nub.

  “No. You will find someone. A man who’s worthy of you. A man who will take you to the tallest mountains of pleasure and throw you off. You’ll find a man who will marry you, and cherish you. You have to promise me you’ll find love, and when you find him, you’ll remember me as he takes you hard, or as he slips in passionately. You’ll replace his face with mine, his cock, with mine, his lips and his fingers with mine. It’s selfish of me to ask, but you have to promise that even though you’ll call out his name when you lose yourself, you’ll be thinking of me.”

  “You, only you,” I screamed as another ripple of bliss tore through me.

  “Hold onto the headboard, my perfect, Wendy Darling. I need to take you. I promise I’ll be gentle later, but right now, I’m going to fuck you like I hate you.”

  Gripping onto the headboard above me, I spread my legs wider, as Paxton removed his jeans and his sweatshirt, leaving only his black T-shirt as a barrier between our bodies. I hoped with love between us, he wouldn’t feel the need to hide his scars from me, but I wasn’t going to push on this last night. If Paxton ended up beating the odds and beating Preston, he’d show me the scars on his body and in his mind when we met back up. At least I prayed he would.