Tied: Owned 2.5

by Mary Catherine Gebhard

  * * *

  Hours later I touched a bruise, looking at myself in the full-length mirror. It sat right above my left breast and was turning a garish yellow-green; at least that meant it was healing. I was almost completely healed. The scars Cruz left behind would only be emotional, so at least there was that.

  I brought my hand to the mirror itself, touchin’ the girl that stared back. Was that me? The one without the smile. The one without the laughter.

  “Excuse me.” I turned to see Charlie standin’ in the doorway, holdin’ a tray—presumably dinner. Maybe it was a peace offerin’, or maybe he intended to continue what he’d stopped earlier that day. Despite my nakedness, there was no blush on his face. Sure he’d seen me naked before when rescuin’ me from Cruz, but this was different.

  Before I was practically a child, curled up and broken. Now I was healing. I was gettin’ my curves back. I was standin’ tall again. Still, Charlie didn’t shy away or apologize. When he spoke he was merely announcin’ his presence.

  He gave me a once over, looking at me from top to bottom and bottom to top. He spared no feelings when he devoured me, making sure I knew he saw everything from my toes, to my pussy, to my face. Maybe if I had been a different person I would have felt what most do: shame, embarrassment, bashfulness, the usual. I wasn’t most.

  Before Cruz had stolen me away, I’d been a cam girl. I got naked and fucked myself on camera for money. It was like porn, but a bit different. I did it for people live and I fulfilled their requests. I’d always been a sex positive person, much to my mother’s chagrin. I had tried to fit her mold of a perfect Catholic Latina princess, but that just wasn’t in the cards for me.

  “When are you going to be done with that?” I asked, gesturing at the dinner tray.

  “Can’t let you starve.” Charlie walked over to the nightstand and set the tray down, like he’d done all the days I’d been there. “Not on my watch.” He folded his arms, regarding me again. I’d been naked for countless men and women. My body had become like the statues in museums, the curves memorized by everyone. Yet, when Charlie looked at me, I felt new. I felt exposed. I felt different.

  I shrugged at him, tryin’ to convey nonchalance, and threw on a sweater.

  “Don’t get dressed on my account,” he said, taking a seat on the bed. He watched as I pulled on a pair of jeans.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” I said, throwing Charlie the finger over my back.

  * * *

  Breakfast didn’t come the next day. I didn’t realize how much I depended on that little bit of human interaction until lunch, when again I didn’t see his face. Charlie hadn’t shown any anger when I left my room the day before. In fact, he’d almost seemed excited. I know I can leave…

  I stared at the wooden door. I know it’s unlocked. I know I can leave the room any minute…but I’m afraid. Not of Charlie, not the way I was of Cruz, but of what he’s doin’ to me. I felt excitement. I felt tingly. I felt terror. He’s not like the other men I’ve dated or fucked. He’s nothin’ like them. With them I could leave any time. With Charlie, I feel compelled toward him.

  Standin’ up from the bed, I shook the thought out of my head. Clearly I was traumatized. There was no way I could feel anything for someone like Charlie. Charlie was dangerous and probably insane. You’d have to be insane to come and rescue some worthless girl like me.

  I stepped into the closet and fingered the nice clothes Charlie had presumably bought for me. I didn’t understand. There were cashmere sweaters, gorgeous lingerie, and expensive jeans. Why would he do that? I frowned, throwin’ on the most expensive looking one. Because screw it, right? I wasn’t going to live like this forever.

  Hopefully. I mean, that was the plan. The plan was to leave.

  Even if I did feel tied to this man.

  I had to leave.

  Opening the door wasn’t as hard as it had been the day before. In fact, it only took two minutes of staring at the knob this time and then I was out, walking around the house. I went left this time instead of right. The hallway led me to a room where Charlie sat, looking at a computer.

  Every instinct I had told me to turn around, every instinct but one: the one in my gut. The one gnawing to touch him and be touched by him.

  “What do you want?” Charlie asked without turning around.

  “Nothin’,” I replied, leaning against the doorway the same way he had the day before. “Just explorin’.”

  Still without turning around, Charlie replied. “You go exploring, you might not like what you find.”

  “I’ll take my chances.” Charlie stood up out of his chair and came toward me, faster than I thought humanly possible.

  “Do you think this is some kind of game, girl?” Head bent, his Atlantic blue eyes probed deep. His mouth was set in a thin line and his jaw ticked. I was never really one to back down, though.

  “I don’t know what this is, Charlie.” I emphasized his name pointedly, showing how once again he had referred to me as “girl”. Charlie drove me out of the room with the sheer magnitude of his body and shoved me against the hallway wall.

  “Vera.” Charlie pressed himself deeper against me. I opened my mouth in silent surprise when I felt his hard length like a steel rod against my stomach. “You’re playing with fire.”

  “Sometimes I like to get burned,” I responded, pressing myself back. It was Charlie’s turn to look surprised. I used it to my advantage and shimmied out from beneath him. I ran down the hallway and into my room, shutting the door without hesitation. When I turned to lock it, though, I paused. The logical conclusion would have been that I had gotten some kinda PTSD from being locked inside a concrete cage and so didn’t want to lock the door. Something inside me was whispering otherwise, though. Something inside me didn’t want to lock someone out.

  5

  VERA

  I sat down next to Charlie when he delivered breakfast the next day. “If I’m goin’ to stay, maybe you can tell me a bit about yourself.” I tugged at the sleeve of the sweater I wore, hating how vulnerable I felt. Even when I did my shows for the randoms online, I still felt powerful. Now, sittin’ next to Charlie, I felt so open.

  Charlie’s gruff voice warmed me like a Christmas tree. “What do you want to know?”

  “How did you find me?”

  “I told you—”

  “People in high places,” I cut him off. “What does that mean? Why me? I’m nobody.” I could feel his stare on me even though I didn’t look. It was hotter than the summer sun and heavier than the rain. Slowly I turned to meet his gaze.

  “You are worth more than anybody I’ve ever known,” Charlie said, gaze pinnin’ me.

  I laughed awkwardly. “Thanks for lyin’, but you don’t have to do that with me.” I rubbed my arms and looked away.

  “A man named Vic called in a favor. You were the favor.” I frowned and looked back at Charlie. I didn’t know anyone named Vic, and I especially didn’t know any Vics who could call men like Charlie.

  “I really think you have the wrong girl. I mean I’m real appreciative that you came and got me…”

  “I don’t make mistakes, Vera.” His voice was so hard and sure that I nearly believed him. “Vic Wall called in a favor for one Vera Araya.”

  I gasped. Vic Wall? “I know Grace Wall…” I paused before asking, “Can I call her?”

  Charlie’s answer was immediate. “No.”

  “Now why the hell not?” I asked.

  Charlie seemed to think on my question for a bit before finally responding, “You’re not ready.”

  “Bullshit,” I muttered, standin’ up so I was right across from him. Charlie chuckled to himself and I nearly slapped him across the face. I stretched my hands out, tryin’ to free them of the feeling.

  “Do it,” he said.

  “Do what?” I glared.

  “Hit me.” The way he spoke, it was as if he was asking me to kiss him, not hit him. I shook my head, not likin’ the way the convers
ation had turned.

  “I’m not gonna hit you.” I folded my arms, still glaring.

  “I wouldn’t blame you if you did,” he said, a crooked smile on his face.

  “You’re just like the rest,” I spat. “Cocky, arrogant, and a brute of a man.” In a flash Charlie was up and gripping me by the waist. He held me flush against his body so I could feel him throbbing against me. Secretly, I wondered if the throbbing I felt at my belly matched his heartbeat.

  “I am cocky. I am arrogant. And I am a brute of a man, but I am not like the rest.” I ripped myself out of his hold, ready to argue, when he did something amazing. I watched as Charlie bent over and, with careful deliberation, lifted up one leg of his jeans. Silently he revealed that one of his legs was missing and in its place was a prosthetic.

  * * *

  I’d never seen a prosthetic before. It reminded me of a high-tech steel skeleton. It was as if all the useless stuff was stripped away and in its place remained the bare essentials needed to function. Raw power in an iron cage. I reached out to touch it, but pulled back when I realized what I was doin’.

  “So?” I said, sittin’ back down on the bed. Charlie stayed standin’, his prosthetic visible. “All that proves is that you got hurt.”

  “I showed you my deepest shame, Vera,” Charlie said, bendin’ back down to cover it up. “The least you could do is acknowledge how hard it was.”

  I bit the inside of my lip, feelin’ bad. When he phrased it that way, it sounded terrible. I didn’t look at what he’d shared as shameful. He’d been hurt and continued on. That wasn’t shameful; if anythin’, it was admirable. Then again, I had a few skeletons in my closet I wouldn’t want people knowin’.

  “Sorry,” I offered.

  “Make it up to me,” Charlie said.

  “Of course,” I said. “You can’t just take an apology like a normal person, can you?”

  Charlie grinned. “I showed you mine.”

  “What the fuck do you want?” I spat. “I used to be a cam girl. There.”

  “I know that already.” Charlie sat down next to me. “I know most everything that is on record. It’s why I’m so good at my job.”

  I scoffed. “So you know that I used to be engaged, then?”

  “No.” The word came out as a low growl and I looked to see if Charlie was okay. His fists were curled so tight they were almost white and his gaze was fixed straight ahead.

  “Yeah,” I continued. “Well I don’t really like to talk about it.”

  “To Cruz Zeros?” Charlie asked, voice still dangerously low.

  “Ha!” I laughed. “No, thank god, but this guy wasn’t much better. No…” I sighed, really wishin’ I didn’t have to tell the story. “You know, no one really knows this. I mean people know I was engaged, but they don’t know my feelins ‘bout it. I kept those locked tight.”

  “I consider myself honored.” I looked at him sideways, not sure if he was bein’ sarcastic or not, but all I saw was sincerity. Charlie grasped my palm, my hand looking so small in his.

  I exhaled, getting ready to tell my story. “Yeah, well, it goes like this. Mama was a real devout Catholic. She really loved me but, I mean, I could tell I was a big disappointment, seein’ as I didn’t go to church much and I slept around a lot. One day Hollis, my ex, comes along and we started gettin’ along fine and all. That is until we moved in together after he proposed. He started beatin’ me”—Charlie growled and I stopped for a moment before continuing—“and all that stuff. I was gonna call off the engagement but right around that time, Mama was diagnosed with cancer. My weddin’ was the only bright spot in her life. She loved it when I went to try on dresses and Hollis was never out of turn around her. Since she was dyin’ of cancer I didn’t want to burst her bubble or nothin’. She died about a week before the weddin’.” I laughed raggedly. “I was so relieved, because then I didn’t have to marry Hollis. I was so relieved I didn’t even mourn Mama. Then Cruz came into my life. I think he was my punishment. You know? My karma for wantin’ my mama to die.”

  I looked up at Charlie, not sure what to expect. His eyes were murky, the emotion distant. I leaned in to get a better look and he followed. I could smell him all over, his scent enveloping me. I was so close to his lips I could practically taste him. The energy between us crackled.

  Then, Charlie let go of my hand and severed the bond. Without another word, he left the room.

  6

  CHARLIE

  I leaned against the doorframe, watching her, transfixed. She danced fluidly, her arms and legs moving like leaves in the wind. How did she have joy in her soul after so much darkness? She was like a white flower floating along a dark river, so completely detached from it all.

  There was no music; she didn’t need it. She sang to herself. The melody was upbeat and her voice was loud. I’d left her the other day and hadn’t been back except to bring food. That day when she shared her story with me had been a breaking point. I had to let her go soon or I never would, so that’s what I was going to do.

  I was going to gather her up and take her home.

  But fuck me backwards.

  I couldn’t think straight when she danced.

  “How long you been standin’ there?” she asked.

  “Long enough,” I replied. Vera came over to me, dancing the entire way. She beckoned to me, but I shook my head. I hadn’t danced when I’d had two legs, I sure as fuck wasn’t going to dance now. Shrugging, Vera turned away from me and bent over, her ass in the air, and lifted up. My cock stirred at her erotic dancing.

  I wasn’t sure if she meant to entice me, but that’s what she was doing. Watching her spin and drop to the floor, all I could think of was sex.

  “Take off your clothes.” Vera spun around at my request, eyes wide as a doe.

  “What?” She still didn’t stop dancing.

  “Take off your clothes. Let me see you.” A dark smile spread across her face at my request. Slowly she peeled off her shirt. I smiled when I saw the lingerie I bought her beneath. It was light blue with lace and it looked fucking great against her skin.

  “Now your pants.” Vera paused at my request and I quirked a brow. “Did I say you could stop dancing?” Vera smiled that dark and deadly grin again before starting to sway. I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing, asking her to strip for me and making her dance. I’d come to bring Vera her lunch and tell her I was going to take her home finally, but instead I’d stumbled upon this.

  We’d been skirting around our sexual tension for a week. I knew what I was doing was about as dangerous as throwing a match in a puddle of gasoline, but shit. My willpower only went so far.

  I didn’t think she’d actually go for it. I didn’t think she’d actually start taking off her clothes. I expected her to fight me as per usual. Now it was like we were both in a deadly game of truth or dare, each wanting to see how far the other would go.

  Vera stripped out of her jeans and I sucked in a breath that sounded more like a hiss. Wearing only a light blue thong, I could discern the outline of her pussy. Suddenly I wanted nothing more in the world than to sink into it. To bury my cock or my face into that beautiful caramel-colored pussy.

  “I’d better go.” I turned to leave.

  “Why?” Vera demanded. I didn’t give her an excuse, I didn’t even respond. I walked out of her—my room, shutting the door behind me. I cursed when I heard the door open. Glancing back, I saw Vera following me, still wearing nothing but the lingerie.

  “What the fuck was that?” Vera called after me. I stopped, turning to face her.

  “Go put some clothes on.”

  Vera scoffed. “Are you fucking kidding me? You just told me to get naked!” Vera shook her head, disbelief evident on her face. “You know what, fine. Fuck you. I knew you thought I was trash, but I didn’t think you would fuck with me. Asshole.” Vera spun around to head back to my room, but I grabbed her by the elbow, bringing her into me.

  Crushed against my chest, I fel
t everything. I felt her heartbeat, I felt her breasts lift and fall with her furious breathing, I felt the warmth of her skin. It was enough to undo me.

  “You are not trash, Vera Araya.” I pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re good—too good. I’m not worthy.”

  Vera shook her head. “That’s where you’re wrong, Charlie. I’ve been a bad girl. Punish me.”

  * * *

  I hadn’t been able to get Vera out of my mind since taking her home. What was supposed to be a one-day job had turned into a two-week long excursion. It wasn’t the ethics I was worried about. My ethics had been fucked the moment I sold my soul to the gun.

  It was Vera.

  Vera was more than a fucktoy I could use and throw back. She was burrowing her way inside of me, and I was letting her. She’d shown me herself unclothed and raw. Not just without clothing, but without her armor. I knew I was fucked. There was no way I was sending Vera home. She was mine, dammit.

  To take her, though? To fuck her after what that skinhead asshole had done to her? I might be degraded, but I wasn’t completely soulless. Not yet, anyway. I made sure to keep my distance. I set boundaries. But now, now she broke them down with just one single sentence.

  “I want you to punish me,” Vera said—no, practically begged me. She looked up at me, her eyes puppy dog brown, her lip caught between her teeth.

  Fuck it, I’m going to hell anyway. Might as well enjoy the ride.

  I grabbed her by the hair and pulled it back, forcing her to look up at me. “Do you know what I’m gonna do, girl? It isn’t nice. It isn’t pretty. I’m going to fuck you until I break you.”