Chapter 18
Cal
I put on the one slasher I could think of off the top of my head where the motive was really weak.
It's also one that happens to be a series, so that we have something to come back to night after night, something that we can discuss and bond over. It’s not much, but I don't know how else to try and get her to relax with me.
I can tell she's on edge, just waiting for me to jump her bones like a man possessed.
And I will, at some point. Because I still am a man possessed.
She's all-consuming, especially now that she's awake. I enjoyed having her as my little doll, but watching her watch the movie that's older than either of us, I'm enchanted.
It's like when she watches it, she escapes me, the hell she's lived, and the situation she's trapped in.
She sinks fully into the movie, rapt, so that I wonder if this is the first time she's seen it.
When the killer turns out to be two killers, her surprise assures me that yes, it is the first time she's seen it.
When the credits roll, she turns to me like she's just realized where she is and that I've been staring at her the whole movie. It’s like she’s realized I caught her with her guard down, and she expects me to take advantage of it.
Her lashes flutter, cheeks turning pink, and I watch her swallow.
“You've never seen that one?” I ask, giving her an escape from whatever thoughts were trying to pull at her.
“No.” She shakes her head. “I guess we missed that one somehow.”
“We?” I muse, wondering if she's speaking about a friend or sister... wondering if she's missing her old life.
“Parker.” She says, her voice small. “My... brother.”
I stay quiet, choosing to give her the chance to guide the conversation.
If she falls silent, I'll prompt her for more, but for a moment, I just watch her think, her eyes glossing with tears. I see them in her eyes, shining and glossy, but she doesn’t let them fall.
“We used to love watching horror movies together. He liked zombie movies best. I tried to argue that it wasn't a subgenre, but it was to him.” Her voice breaks, and I watch her press her hands to her eyes like she can push the tears back.
Tentatively, I reach out to put a gentle hand on hers, willing her to look at me. It doesn't escape me that she's speaking in the past tense, that she sounds so devastated. She's been dealing with his loss a lot longer than the past few days she's been pretending not to be conscious.
“What happened to him?”
Her lip quivers before she sinks a tooth into it, trying to gain control before she can let a sob out.
“He was taken when I was. He was trying to help me.”
I blink, surprised by the admission... the idea of men being taken too.
I knew there had been a space for them on the website, and I hadn't even questioned it. I don't care who people choose to fuck or how many of them they choose to fuck, but it never even occurred to me that they'd take men just the same way.
Honestly, I didn't give much thought to how any of them ended up being taken to somewhere they could be sold.
My poor little doll looks so sad when her eyes reach mine. “I got him killed.”
“Whatever happened, it wasn't your fault.” I assure her gently. Unless she called the people who took him to offer herself and her brother up, this isn't on her.
“If I hadn't screamed for him, they wouldn't have got him.
But I was going outside to take a call, and the man came out of nowhere.
He pulled a knife against my stomach and told me not to make a scene as he walked me to the truck.
I didn't, at first. I was in shock. But when I saw the box truck with no windows in the back, I knew something bad was going to happen.”
She closes her eyes, squeezing them like that will stymy the flow of tears.
I’m shocked that she’s telling me this… that she’s talking to me at all.
It feels so vulnerable, like she’s giving me a part of herself I couldn’t take from her.
Does she… trust me? Or is her guilt so monumental that she just needs it off of her shoulders, whether that means playing nice with her captor or not?
I hand her Mr. Pig, and she doesn’t even question it before tucking him against her chest, taking whatever comfort the stuffed animal can offer her.
“I was scared, and all I could think was that I already got away once. The chance of getting away again…” She shakes her head.
“I knew that if I let them take me, I'd never see him again. So, I screamed for him, and he looked out as someone was opening the door to come out. He came running because I called for him, and he tried to fight him off, but there were more of them, and they had weapons. A knife, guns... they stabbed him, and it all happened so quick.” I can tell by the way she's trembling that she's not just remembering it right now.
She's back there again, living it all once more.
I watch her carefully, not wanting to share her with her memories. She’s mine now, and letting her go back to before me feels… wrong. I don’t understand it, but I also don’t like the pain on her face. Because I’m not the one causing it?
“Don't be scared.” I tell her, offering her a second of warning before scooting close, closing the space between us.
She bristles when I wrap an arm around her but otherwise doesn't seem too frightened by me. She's more frightened by her memories right now, and it's a weird sort of victory for me.
I hold her like that, offering her the presence to remind her that she isn't alone. Maybe she would prefer to be, but she's here, in my bed, and I'm not going to let her suffer.
“You did nothing wrong by calling for him. He's your brother. Dex is mine, and I call him every time I need help.”
Almost every time.
I didn't call him when I was trying to figure out how to dispose of the last body.
For once, I handled something by myself.
And that gave me the confidence to do what I had to with my little doll, whose name I suddenly realize I don't even know.
I'm not sure she would even want me to know, given how long she withheld her voice from me, refusing to speak for the last two days that I've had her fully conscious.
Dex isn't even my blood, but I still rely on him to help me when I need it. If I had that sort of relationship with my sister, I'd certainly come running when she needed me to. But we never got that sort of bond.
She got to be the pride of the family, and I got a best friend who was all the family I'll ever need.
She nods, choosing not to argue anymore, maybe knowing in her heart that it wasn't her fault. We aren't responsible for the things that happen to us... only how we react to them.
“What’s your name?” I ask before I’ve even thought about it.
Her eyes find mine, reflecting my own confusion for asking that right back at me. She’s quiet for so long that I don’t think she’s going to answer.
“Ambrosia.” I watch her swallow hard, like the name brings bile up her own throat, and then tuck her chin on top of Mr. Pig’s head.
It’s exotic. Different. It doesn’t seem like a real name.
“Ambrosia.” I repeat, testing her name on my tongue.
God, it’s fucking divine. Just like her.
But I watch her shiver when I speak it, and it doesn’t make me feel good.
“It’s not too late to reinvent yourself.” I tell her. “Be whoever you want to be.”
It sounds ridiculous to my own ears, like a shitty motivational speech, like I’m telling her she can be rich and famous if she wants, just don’t give up.
Other than the fact that being rich and famous isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, there’s also the fact that she exists for me now.
She will be only what I want her to be… what I let her be.
“Yeah,” she nods, seeming to agree with me. “So, call me Amber.”
Amber.
It’s not as exotic as Ambrosia, but it suits her.
What is amber, after all, other than tree sap hardened by time?
Her pussy is sweet like syrup, and suddenly, I find myself wondering what I have to do to get another taste.
Somehow the thought of crawling overtop of her and taking it doesn’t feel like the right move.
She’d have no choice but to let me—even awake, fully conscious, there’s no way she stands a chance of overpowering me.
She wouldn’t want to even if she could. The fact that she’s still in the bed beside me as I’ve crept closer to her, needing to feel her beneath my skin, tells me all I need to.
I’ll play it safe… not because I’m afraid of upsetting her.
I’ll play it safe because I’ve already won over her body. That was mine long before even she knew it.
Now, I just have to do the same with her brain.