by Bry Ann
I pretend to make my bed. I twist around a bit in my suit. My exhaustion hits me hard as I try and stall. I turn back to her. She’s ripping the walnuts into tiny pieces trying to delay the end of the container. I want to tell her I’ll give her more food, but I resist. I act like the boss for once since I found her in here. Like the man who’s going to send her to hell in three short days.
“Lacey.”
Her head snaps up, mid-chew. She’s so fucking adorable... and smart and strong. Her grey eyes search me, waiting to hear what I have to say.
“I'm going to change. I'm not getting naked or anything, I just wanted you to know so you didn’t think… Well, um…” I swallow and run my hand through my hair.
“Thanks for letting me know,” she whispers, giving me a hesitant, comforting smile.
My heart is going to explode. I turn away and walk to the restroom. Usually, I sleep naked, but I obviously I can’t now. I grab a white t-shirt and navy blue sweats. I throw the shirt on the bed for some reason and bring the sweats back in the restroom. Once I'm back in the restroom I unbutton my suit and white button-down top. I throw them both in the laundry basket. I take my pants and boxers off next, throwing them both in there too. I throw on my navy blue sweats. Shirtless, I walk back out to grab my white top. I'm an arm's length away when I feel a pair of eyes on me.
I look over and see Lacey staring at me. Instantly a become aware of my half-dressed state. She sets the walnut she was eating down and moves the carrot juice, so she doesn’t spill it. Not that I’d care right now. My heart is pounding like a bomb in my chest. She walks over to me, no longer shaking from low blood sugar. I follow her train of sight. I realize she’s staring at my side. Oh yeah. I was sparing and got a little beat up. I hit a wood post, it’s a large scab. I’d have to deal with that at some point.
“You’re hurt,” she says when she’s right in front of me like the very concept of it horrifies her.
Even though she’s beaten to all hell.
“I'm fine Lacey. Really. I'm fine.”
She shakes her head. “No. You’re not. You’re hurt! You’re bleeding.”
“Lacey. Really it’s…”
“Sit!”
She points at the bed. I cock an eyebrow. She takes a half step back.
“Please sir. Um, please sit,” she says, catching herself.
Amused, I take a seat on the edge of my bed. Lacey scatters off into the restroom. The corner of my lip turns up. What is she doing? I hear shuffling. I can’t stop the smile from spreading across my lips. This is not where I saw my night going.
She comes back out a minute or so later with something that we are all too familiar with. I freeze. What is she doing?
“Uh, Lacey?”
She sets the kit next to me, exactly where I always put it when I cleaned her up the last two times. It’s like Deja vu. She doesn’t hear me. She’s so focused on the kit. Her eyebrows furrow as she opens it open, trying to understand what’s inside. It’s got stuff in there most people haven’t heard of. She lets out a deep exhale when she finds one of the things she’s looking for. She pulls out a container of Neosporin and starts to rub it on my side. I jump when her hand touches my skin. She looks at me when she sees me flinch. There’s a question there.
Has anyone taken care of you? Touched you nicely?
I guess she’s not alone in that. If someone touches me they are fighting me. Trying to end me. Or it’s a girl that means nothing. Who’s using me? It’s never gentle. No one dares touch me.
“You okay?” she whispers, looking away. “Did that hurt?”
My heart. My soul. You know the ones I thought were gone.
“No. It’s… good Lacey.”
She nods and leans over trying to get a better glimpse.
“You didn’t see a doctor.”
I shrug.
“You have splinters.”
“Okay.”
You think I care? You think that bothers me? Clearly, she does, because she sucks in a deep breath through her teeth like she’s the one who’s hurting.
“I have to get them out. It could get infected.”
“Lacey. You don’t have to do this. I'm fine. And… I don’t deserve it.”
I level her with my stare. She stares right back. “I don’t like seeing people hurting.”
I really don’t know what to say to that. She rolls her eyes and goes back to my side. Her delicate fingers splay on my left side, steadying herself to pull the splinters out. The muscles of my core tighten when she touches me. She notices but shakes it off. She slowly removes each splinter from my skin like she’s a practice nurse. She shakes her hands out when the splinters are gone. Then she does a few more things to my side before bandaging it up. When it’s all done she looks at it one more time before pulling away.
“Done.”
I have no clue what to say to her. I’ve done nothing but hurt her and she’s done nothing but heal me.
I clear my throat. “Thank you. That was unnecessary.”
She shrugs and picks up the walnuts and carrot juice. She finishes the last of both of them and looks for the trash. When she finds it she dumps both containers in there. She stares at them a long time, terrified the moments going to come to end and I'm going to send her back to hell.
I'm not ready for the fantasy to end though. Not yet.
“You’re filthy.”
She frowns, still looking at the trashcan like she wants to crawl inside it.
“You’ve mentioned that. It’s not my fault I'm dirty. My cell doesn’t have a shower.”
She glares at the trash can with so much hatred and anger that I know she thinks I can’t see her. She deserves those feelings, and in a way, it relieves me to know she feels them.
Something in my heart starts flipping. I look her up and down. I think the world of this girl. I want to live a fantasy. Just for one night.
I walk up behind her and trace my fingers along her neck. Her muscles go haywire, unsure what to feel.
“Do you want a shower?”
She flips around so we are mere inches from each other. She studies me, taking in my naked torso for really the first time blatantly.
I trace my fingers down her arms.
“What are you doing?”
“What are you doing to me?” I whisper like I can say what I want here and it won’t bite me in the ass later.
“I…”
I frame her face with my large calloused hands. A single tear trails down her cheek.
“I’m still gonna hurt you. There are things I have to do Lacey. I'm boss. I… I have to avenge my family. I can explain it to you. I can…”
I grimace in pain.
“I have to Lacey.”
She looks into my eyes. The pain in her eyes matching the pain in mine.
“But… and I know this makes me an asshole, tonight I want to pretend. I want to…”
I'm gonna destroy her more.
“Lacey, what I'm saying here will not change anything. Please tell me you understand.”
“I understand. Please tell me what you were gonna say.”
“I want to pretend. I know pretending for too long hurts. I know it better than anyone, but for tonight… tell me to stop. Tell me that it’s better to let things be because I'm still gonna hurt you beyond repair or forgiveness.”
Tears fall from her cheeks. She wipes them, still in my hold, and shakily addresses me.
“What are you pretending sir?”
I lose it.
I grip her face and plant my lips on hers. I kiss her with everything, trying to tell her what I feel, the confusion, pain, love, respect, regret, then I pull away.
She blinks several times.
“Why?”
Of course, she’s able to understand everything I was telling her.
“I… don’t want to hurt you. Ever. But I'm going to.”
“I do want a shower. Just for today. Just one shower.”
I study her. Everything i
n me tenses. I get her. For one night. I want to know what she’s thinking. The internal struggle she’s feeling. I’ll found out. Tonight will hold so many truths until we enter a world of lies tomorrow.
“Alright. My showers pretty amazing. I'm not gonna lie.”
Her lips twist into a small smile. “Is it?”
“Yeah. It’s fucking awesome.”
She looks at me. Studying the real me. Suddenly, worry for her hits me like a freight train. Will she be able to handle it when everything goes back to ‘normal’ tomorrow? She seems to read me.
“I know what I'm doing. I know… this changes nothing, but I want to pretend too. Just once. Before…”
She quickly wipes a tear. She knows I'm gonna do something to destroy her life, and she still wants this. I’ve never felt more like the devil.
“Okay.” Don’t cry, please. “Hands up.”
She makes full eye contact with me. I slowly lift up her dirty, white cotton t-shirt and throw it to the side. When I look back at her my breath hitches.
“Lacey…” Insecurity flashes in her eyes. She probably thinks I'm noticing the hell I do to her. The bruises, the cuts, the dirt and dried sweat marring her skin. Yes, I see that. It sinks in my gut like rocks, but what I'm staring at is her beauty. The softness of her skin. The pinkness of her nipples in the cold air. Her insecure eyes watch me for a reaction.
“You’re perfect. You know that, right? This all… it has nothing to do with you.”
She lets out a breath that she seems to have been holding since the day she got captured. She falls forward into my arms and I hold her. She starts to sob as she uses me for comfort.
“Just hold me,” she chokes out, “It’s pretend remember? Don’t think. Just hold me.”
So I do. I hold her as she cries endless tears. When she’s done she pulls away.
“Thank you.”
It’s the least I can do I think, but all I do is a nod.
“Lacey, for the rest of tonight. I want you to call me by my name. Alright?”
Her eyes go wide with disbelief. I can’t have her calling me sir or boss or whatever in here. For this to be perfect I need to let a little bit of the man out. A man that’s been locked away for so long.
“This can’t ever get out. Lacey, I'm trusting you. I know I don’t deserve your loyalty but…”
“I’d never tell,” she says firmly. “No matter what you do. I’ll never tell.”
“Okay, my little dove. In the shower.”
She lowers her little cotton shorts so she’s just in her white cotton panties.
“I'm leaving these on.”
I laugh. “Okay.”
I pinch her hip. She squeals. “Stay there.”
I run to my closet, throw my sweats off and throw on a pair of boxers and walk out. Lacey looks me up and down.
“You are very… muscly.”
I snort. “Is that a compliment? I can’t tell if you’re disgusted or…”
“I’m definitely not disgusted.”
I laugh. She lets out that adorable giggle of hers. I shake my head. Lacey is in the mirror looking at herself while I turn on my shower, getting everything ready. I wasn’t kidding when I said my shower is incredible. It’s its own room. It has several spouts, small dark lights, a chair, the floors outside of it are heated. It’s the most luxurious shower I could get.
When I come back out Lacey is still looking at herself with an odd fascination. I realize she probably hasn’t seen herself in a long time. It’s not like I’ve given her a mirror.
“Hey!” I snap.
She jumps back and turns to face me. “I look so… different.”
She frowns. It’s amazing she hasn’t given up on herself yet. God, I have met so many men, so many incredible, powerful men, but I don’t think I’ve ever respected anyone more than this woman right in front of me. Standing there, outwardly fragile, in white cotton underwear.
“I think you’re perfect.”
I take her hand and pull her to the door. When we are outside the door that leads to the shower room, I cup her face.
“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone. I don’t know how you looked before you were first taken…” Fuck, she wasn’t taken. I need to know how she ended up in this position. I will found out, “but I think you are beautiful. Right now. As you are.”
“What’s your name?” she whispers.
I open my mouth but freeze. God, I haven’t said it in years. So many years. I swallow. I don’t know if I can say it. Shaking, Lacey touches my shoulder.
“It’s just a name. Don’t give it power.”
I clear my throat. I pull her into the shower room and shut the dower. She squeals as the water hits her. She leaps around the shower not sure where to go to avoid the ongoing sprays. When she realizes she can’t escape it she starts laughing. She looks at me, lets her hands fall to her sides and just starts giggling. I decided right then and there that that is the most beautiful sight I will ever see.
I walk over to her, eyes only for her, and cup her, stilling her.
“Adam. My name is Adam.”
Her eyes flickered with surprise. “You’re English.”
“Yes. My name is from the Bible.”
“That’s so…”
“Ironic. I know. My mother was an English Christian woman. She raised me for a while. Her and my father were never in love... or close. Then she met someone, Piero Castello. They had an affair. See, despite not being in love my parents were married. My mother apparently had a thing for powerful men. Well, my father found out. He beat her and sent her off to them. My dad was Boss. Hence,” I extend my arms. I trace her lower belly, feeling her stomach flinch at the sudden touch. “Understand?”
The water surrounds us. Lacey tries to process everything I’ve just told her.
“Castello?”
“Yes.”
She nods. “I understand more now.”
She can’t think too much about it without ruining the fantasy. I get that.
“So… Adam.” Her lips turn up. “I like that. You sound so… normal.”
I feel so fucking vulnerable right now. I turn around and turn down the jets so I can hear her better. I start grabbing soap to give her when I feel two soft, wet hands on my shoulders.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
She gently spins me around. “You’re running away. I like your name. Kind of a lot,” she mumbles, turning red.
“Can I kiss you, Lacey?”
“Yes,” she answers without hesitation.
So right there in the midst of an oversized shower, I kiss her with everything. She whimpers against my lips, both of us wishing this were real. Then I can’t resist. I grab her back and pull her warm body in close to my cold one. She closes any distance I allowed between us. She traces her hands down my stomach. We both spend time exploring each other’s bodies without getting overly intimate before I pull away.
I hand her some soap and stuff.
“Sorry, it’s my stuff. I don’t have girl shit in here.”
“It’s okay Adam. I wouldn’t expect you to.”
I choke out a laugh. “Really taken advantage of this name thing, aren’t you?”
“Oh yes,” she says taking the soap from my hands and starting to run it up her arms. “It’s too fun. You get all shy and it makes me feel special.”
“Seeing as that you’re the first person who’s called me Adam since my mom, you should,” I mumble.
A smile that reaches her eyes lights up her face.
She put a leg up on the chair to... I don’t know... soap herself off better. I think she’s just trying to kill me because all I can picture is my face between her spread legs. I turn away, clearing my throat. When she gets herself soaped off and her hair washed I don’t even notice. I'm trying so hard to ignore her and deal with my raging hard-on without being too obvious.
“You haven’t soaped off.”
I jump and turn to fa
ce her.
“Oh right, yeah.”
She grabs the soap off the counter and starts soaping my arms off.
“What are you doing?” I shriek. She can’t touch me like this. I’ll lose it.
She stifles a laugh. “Helping you soap off because you forgot to.”
She’s great at pretending. I don’t know how she hasn’t tried to murder me yet. Maybe it’s in the plans for later. I kind of hope she does and succeeds. If anyone deserves to kill me, it’s her.
“You’re so funny.” I grab her hand. “Seriously Lacey. Don’t.”
“Why?” I glance at her self-harm scars and marks. It’s so easy to forget she’s suffering in that way with her childlike playfulness.
“Lacey, I can’t. If you touch me like that I’ll…”
“I'm gonna die, right? I mean probably?”
She says it so detached. Like a thirty party observer. My eyes shoot up and my heart squeezes.
“Yes. Probably,” I whisper.
“Okay then. This may be my one good night. Don’t ruin it for me, Adam. You’d said we’d pretend. So… pretend. Be normal. If I touch you and it makes you want to…” she turns red and tries to hide a shy, pleased smile, “touch me too, then do it.”
“Oh,” I shake my head, “My little dove, you don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“Yes, I do. You think I can’t handle it?”
She steps away and cocks an eyebrow, like a challenge. I smirk.
“We’ll see won’t we.” I extend my arms. “I'm all yours.”
A spray of shower water hits her face. Her face scrunches up and she leaps back. I laugh and turn the jets down again.
“Can’t have anything standing in the way of you getting me clean, you know?”
She giggles and grabs the soap again. She doesn’t hesitate. Her level of comfort with these overtly sexual acts surprises me. A lot actually. I would expect her to be shy, but sometimes what you see isn’t what you get.
She runs the soap along my whole upper body, stopping once in a while to run her hand along old scars. Scars come as part of the territory in my line of work.
