by Vi Carter
“Brunette,” I say, as I sit down in the chair. The lights dim and the boy leaves. The box lights up and I wait. I’m kept waiting for a brunette wearing a white thong and nothing else to step into the box. Her gaze meets mine, but I know she can’t see me. She’s meeting her own eyes in the mirror. She smiles before a slow beat fills the space and she starts to move.
I exhale and command my body to relax as the brunette turns around and bends down showing me her ass. Her hands run across the cheeks before she slaps them hard, and my cock twitches. She turns and runs her hands across her chest. I press the button and the glass box rises into the air, she’s startled for a moment, but she descends the steps and walks over to me.
I rise and push my boxers and trousers down before sitting back down on the chair. The brunette smiles at me before she falls to her knees and takes my cock in her mouth. I let my head fall back as her warm mouth encircles my cock. She rides it up and down with her mouth. When she removes herself and replaces her lips with her hands, I don’t like it.
“Suck it,” I say. Her warm breath rushes across my cock before she takes as much as she can in her mouth. It’s not deep enough. Grabbing her hair, I help her move up and down. I need this release, especially after a kill. Dimitri’s dead body flashes in my mind, and I push the brunette’s head down on my cock and pull her up quickly, the pleasure has me moving her faster. My balls ache for release, the sac’s full and coated in the girl’s saliva as I keep her head moving fast up and down on my cock. She gags, but I want more, I want my release. I grab her face with both hands and fuck her mouth hard. I pound into her and can feel the release build up until I jerk into her mouth, three more slams empties me and I release her. She coughs but swallows and wipes her mouth. She doesn’t speak, but stands and walks back to the box. Once she’s inside, I press the button and the glass moves back down. She looks startled as she leaves the box through the door and I pull up my trousers expecting to feel satisfied, but I don’t.
MILA
My head still aches, but I’m very aware that I have been left alone and I’m not tied up. I try the door, but it’s locked. Going into the bathroom, I meet pale blue eyes in the mirror. Blood cakes along the side of my face and down my neck. My blond hair is stuck to my head in a tangle of blood and knots. If I am to escape, I need to clean myself up without attracting attention. I don’t linger in the shower but wait until the water runs clear. My hands run along a lump on the back of my neck. I must have hit it when I fell. My fingers feel for stitches, but there are none. I can examine myself better when I get out of here. I dry quickly and place my clothes back on my damp body.
From the sideboard, I remove the candle from its marble perch and use the holder to smash the door handle. It takes a few tries, and the noise level has my heart hammering, but I get the door open and leave.
Downstairs, I open all the drawers until I find some loose notes. It was only a few hundred, but it would be a start. Opening The Collector’s fridge, I take out a few slices of cheese and stuff one in my mouth before leaving the house. I have no idea how much time I have left, but I need to get out of here. The wall isn’t high and I glance around for cameras, but don’t see any. I easily climb across the low wall and land softly on the other side. I’m on the street and I try to keep my walk to a stroll so I’ll appear like someone just out walking.
I would never have dreamed of running from The Collector. There is still that voice that tells me this is pointless and silly, but it’s like the rules have changed. I’m in his home and if the rules change, it means I have a chance. I might be able to hide and start again.
My skin feels cold and I wrap my arms around my waist. There is still blood on my white top, but pulling my hair to the side keeps it covered up. I keep walking for another twenty minutes, grateful that I don’t come across a car.
My heart pounds and my feet eat up the road as I race after the bus that’s ready to pull out. My fist hits the side.
“Wait.” Panic tears through me. This was my chance. The bus stops, the hiss of the door opening has me grabbing the bar and meeting the eyes of the angry driver. I climb up the three steps and hand him a twenty.
“I’m sorry.” Please don’t kick me off, as I glance at all the annoyed gazes that focus on me. Pulling my hair across my top, the driver hands me my change and ticket. I’m not even seated when he takes off and I fall into a seat and shift over to the window as I watch the small town disappear. Excitement has me smiling at the girl in the window. She smiles back, a flash of red along her white top has me pulling my hair over and it disappears.
Imagine if I am the first person who ever escaped The Collector. I’m giddy at the idea, but reality comes crashing back and I sober up.
I doze off several times and watch as the light slips away and night darkens the interior of the bus. I’m back in a steel bed. It’s been such a long time since I’ve been here and the fear vibrates down to my soul. I sit up. The driver hovers over me. I tighten my hands around my waist.
“This is the final stop.”
My heart races and I manage a nod. He moves back and I walk through the empty bus. Getting off, I look up and down. A gas station that’s closed seems to be the only place here.
“Is there a motel close by?” I ask.
He frowns. “It’s four miles that way.”
I nod.
“A girl out here alone isn’t wise.”
I force a smile at his concern, get off the bus, and start to walk towards the hotel. Ghosts walk beside me and I try not to hear their words, their cries, their taunts.
The mill was filled each night with screams of pain, screams of pleasure and something in between both. We called it the pit. It was the center of hell to most of us. No one came back. Well, I was the exception to that rule. I was starting to see a pattern forming, especially with The Collector. Getting out of the mill had been only graced to me because Victor said so. I shiver again and wrap my arms around my waist.
I wanted the world to scatter away from me. I didn’t want to feel the cold breeze, or the ghost who walked around me. I wanted someone to take me from the dark that I had been dropped back into. Is that where The Collector would finally take me? To the mill? What a cruel fate. It seemed exactly like something Victor would do. I’ve walked for a while, my mind is consumed with my painful past and I manage to smile through it all.
The pink neon motel lights flash ahead. I hasten my pace as I walk across the empty lot and to the front desk. A female glances up at me from behind the desk. I try not to look so broken and tired and force another smile.
“I’m looking for a room please?”
She glances behind me. “Just one?”
My pulse spikes and I slowly turn expecting to see The Collector behind me with his dark soulless eyes, but the space is empty.
“Yeah, just one.” I frown.
I slide a fifty across and get back a ten along with the key. The number twenty-two is carved into it. I take the key and stuff the change back into my pocket. Outside, the world is asleep. I have no idea what time it is as I push the key into the door.
The smell has me covering my mouth. It’s a mixture of urine and fags. I close the door behind me and hold in the cry that wants to spill from my lips. Opening the window does no good. I enter the bathroom and flush the toilet, but the smell of urine is strong from the bedroom. The towels are fresh and my exhausted body wants me to lie on the bed. I draw the curtains and lock the door before going back into the bathroom. Taking all the towels, I cover the bath before I get in. I keep one, a hand towel, and push it against my mouth so I can scream. I’ve been running my whole life and I think of ending all this pain and anger, but I’m not strong enough. My screams turn to sobs before they turn to angry shouts. My feet slam against the side of the bath as I continue to let the pain flow from my soul. Liddi’s scream joins mine and bile crawls up my throat. I’m out of the bath and empty the cheese that I had eaten into the toilet.
A knock
at the door has me reeling and I stand up. My legs are unsteady as the knock sounds at the door again. The tears dry up in my eyes as I hold the wall and make my way to the wooden door. The door frame leaves my fingertips as the knock sounds heavier this time. He’s found me. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide.
“Hello.” A female voice sings and I push off the wall, recognizing the voice of the receptionist. Relief has me opening the door and she holds a stack of towels.
“You forgot these.”
I take them. “Thank you, but there were some here already.”
“Maybe the last person didn’t use them.” She’s lingering and I go back into the room.
“Thanks,” I say.
Her gaze flickers to the left. “No problem.” She leaves and I’m ready to close the door.
A black shiny shoe lodges itself in the doorway. I stumble back, the towels scatter out along the floor as The Collector enters the room. He closes the door behind him.
“Running is never an option.” His words hold nothing. Like I am nothing.
I’m sick of meaning nothing to people. I want to be big like them. I want to crush their souls, strip them bare and see how they feel.
I stumble back further as he steps deeper into the room.
“Running is my only option.” My heart races when he pauses. “You’d run too if you knew where you would end up.”
He holds up a hand. “You did a wrong, so there is a price to pay.” The words that leave his mouth have fear evaporating into the air.
“A wrong?” I grit my teeth as my nose burns with angry tears. “The only wrong that me and thousands of women seem to have done is to be born.”
His dismissive eyes have me taking a step towards him.
“Born into the hands of horrible and immoral human beings just like you.” My words whip out and he doesn’t flinch.
“Move.” He steps aside so I can start to walk.
My shoulders drop forward and a sob I can’t keep in falls. “Please.” I beg and for the first time I see some kind of emotion in his dark eyes.
“I haven’t done anything wrong.” I join my hands together, wondering in this moment would the devil allow me to step out of this room with my tattered soul.
He takes a looming step towards me. “You all say that.” He curls his nose up and I’m not sure if it’s me or the smell of the room.
I lash out and he grips my hands easily. Fear shoots through me and rattles my bones.
“You shouldn’t have run.”
His large hands still grip mine and I’m shrinking at his sheer size and power. I needed to give up this idea that should never have formed in my head. The idea that I could out run this.
“If there is a grain of kindness in you, you would end this for me.” I grip his hands back and he releases me. His brows draw down.
“If you want out that bad, why not do it yourself?”
The question has angry tears burning my eyes and I half sob and half laugh. “Because, I’m a coward.” Who stayed curled in a corner as Liddi screamed for me. I was her home and yet when she needed me, I had sunk to the ground and screamed along with her.
“Move.” The Collector’s words have me blinking.
Tears spill and I unsteadily leave the motel room.
CHAPTER FOUR
NICHOLAI
I was raised by my mother. My father died on the streets when I was six. My mother warned me away from the life that claimed her husband and three brothers. She pleaded with me, but I wanted to be feared. To me, it was a rich ingredient that was designed for real men.
I’m walking behind Mila, and fear has her body trembling and I’ve never felt less of a man. If my mother was alive, she would have been disgusted.
I climb into the car and Mila gets into the passenger seat. Her hands tremble as she clips in the seatbelt.
“If you don’t want to live, why did you run?” I don’t ask questions. It was a rule, yet here I was again, breaking them.
“Obviously I want to live.” Fire in her blue eyes has me starting the engine and leaving the motel.
“How did you find me?” She sounds unsure, like her question is silly. But it isn’t. She got away very fast. I would have eventually found her without the tracker. She would have been picked up on CCTV or used her name at some stage. Everyone messes up eventually. Most people I am sent after are where they are supposed to be.
“It was simple, really. The bus only goes to one place, so each stop I checked. The last stop had only a gas station, so when I came across the motel, the girl described you.”
She’s staring at me and I don’t meet her eyes. “Simple.” She says one word and this time I glance at her.
She huffs before glaring out the window.
I tighten my hands on the steering wheel, not understanding at all why she is getting under my skin so much.
“How’s your head?” I ask.
She sits up straighter. “You care?”
Did I? I push my foot down harder on the accelerator, wanting her out of my car. “You owe me a door,” I say instead.
She laughs and digs into her pockets. Money rains down on my lap and I glare at her.
“There you go.” Her chest rises and falls and she looks like a woman that’s been pushed to the brink. But I can’t have her break with me. I didn’t sign up for this shit.
She screams as I tug the steering wheel and jam on the brakes. The car behind us sits on the horn. Removing my seat belt, I turn to a terrified Mila. About fucking time.
“You stole from me.”
Her nostrils flare as she scrambles for air.
“You damaged my property. You made me chase you.”
She’s shaking her head like I’ve said something that isn’t right.
“Now, you think you can be smart with me.”
She pulls in her bottom lip and sinks her teeth into the soft flesh.
“I didn’t do anything wrong.” She looks around the space. I don’t think she’s referring to the list that I just delved out.
“He just wants me to suffer.” She blinks and tears spill down her face.
I laugh. Since when did I become a babysitter? Her tears were getting to me and I’m starting to feel soft.
“You pull one more stunt on me and you’ll be sorry.” I leave the empty threat in the air and start to drive. I’d do nothing. I’ve never laid a finger on a woman and I wasn’t about to start now.
I drive back to the house. She doesn’t say another word and gets out. We go right back to the start and she stands in the kitchen and waits for her orders. Tying her to a chair didn’t work. Locking her in a room didn’t work.
“Sit down.” I point at the chair and she takes a step back. I cut her a warning look and she sits down on the chair.
She’s small, like if you grabbed her she could crumble in your hands. I fight a grin as I open the fridge. I have no idea why she is turning me on so much. I’m staring into the fridge with no idea what to make. Taking out cheese spread, I take another peek at her to find her watching me. Her cheeks redden. Cutting up Vienna bread, I coat both sides with the cheese spread. She takes in each step I make before I place the plate in front of her.
She doesn’t speak as she picks it up and starts to eat. I take a bite of mine before pulling off my tie and jacket. The cuffs of my shirt are stained with blood from Dimitri. Two shirts in one day. What were the odds? Ever since Mila stepped into my life, it’s really gone to shit.
“How long were you in prison?” Her question is spoken softly, but it’s like a bolt through my system.
“You think I’m going to answer your question?” I turn while rolling up my sleeves, her eyes drink in all my ink.
“It’s only a question.” She shrugs before taking a bite of her sandwich.
“It’s never only a question. You ask one, you ask two.”
Her cheeks redden again and I return to my own bread and take a bite.
“Well, if I ask you a question, y
ou can ask me one.”
What was she playing at? Who wants to have a conversation with The Collector? A desperate kind of person, that’s who.
“There is nothing about you that I want to know.”
She finally shuts up and finishes her food.
I head upstairs, she follows me obediently.
We pass the room where she smashed the door in. I don’t really care about the door, I was impressed that she had tried to escape. I hadn’t thought she would have tried to be honest.
The room I take her into has a four-poster bed. She’s gnawing on her lip again. Her legs lock and I walk around the bed and open the top drawer, taking out two pairs of handcuffs. I hold them up for her to see. I’m wondering if she’ll run, but she doesn’t. Her eyes dull as I walk around to her, she shrinks in size when I’m beside her.
“Get on the bed.” Her eyes move up to me before her lids quickly flutter closed. She sits on the edge of the bed and stares at the floor. I press one of the handcuffs around her wrist and make her move closer to the top where I clip them into the hook that I had placed at the head of the bed. It wasn’t for keeping people captive. Her eyes widen when she sees the designated hook. I move around to the other side of the bed and take her other hand making her lie back in the center. Her intake of breath is loud. She’s seen the mirror overhead. I glance up and meet her wide eyes, I’m surprised to see curiosity mixed with fear in them. The click of the second handcuffs has me looking away from her.
I walk down to the end of the bed. She raises her head off the pillow. “What is this?”
“More questions. What do you think it is?” I ask and she lets her head fall back into the pillow, but not before I see the color in her cheeks.
“I’m not going to rape you.”
Her head snaps up. “I’ve never forced myself on a woman. I’ve never needed to.” I leave the end of the bed. She’s tempting. A taste of her would be nice, but I meant what I said. I wouldn’t force myself on her.
