Chapter 15 ALEX #2
“Dinner’s going to take a while,” he says apologetically as he leads me up the steps of the large wraparound porch before opening a front door with an ornate, leaded glass pane making up most of the center.
The door opens into a narrow entryway with a living room on one side and a large staircase on the other, and Theo ushers me into the house, where I can hear soft French jazz drifting into the entryway from a brightly lit room down the hall.
Theo’s house has dark wood walls with cream wallpaper, leaded glass panes in all the doors and windows, and mid-century-style furniture that looks brand new and completely out of place with the house’s ornate wood paneling and picture rails and old-fashioned sconces.
There are a few pieces of art, but they’re impersonal, as though they’re placeholders.
His house is spotless, but there are so few signs of life that it feels like it’s been staged.
He closes the door and locks it behind him, looking down at me with direct and overwhelming eye contact, and all my panic returns in an instant.
I’m in his house.
It’s just us here.
He’s going to kill me.
“Shoes off, please,” he says, slipping off his sneakers and placing them on a shoe rack by the door that I didn’t notice.
I follow his instructions, placing my tennis shoes next to his, and he takes my hand and pulls me into the large kitchen at the end of the hall.
It’s the most updated room in the house, with new appliances and a large island.
It’s as clean as the rest of the house, but between the cookbooks and the phone charger, it looks more lived-in.
Theo pulls out a stool at the island, and I sit as he starts rummaging in the fridge.
“Do you like coq a vin?” I stare at him blankly. “Alex?”
“Uh, I don’t know.” He frowns down at the bowl of marinated chicken in his hands.
“Well, it’s got wine in it, so I figured it might go over well,” he says. I can tell he’s trying to joke, but it’s sharp and forced. He walks close to me and pulls a bottle of red wine from a full wine rack and uncorks a bottle, pouring it slowly into a decanter sitting on the counter.
Who the fuck owns a decanter?
He catches me looking at it and flashes me a small smile. “I know you like wine, so I’ve been getting into it, too. I’ve got some pinot gris before dinner, if you want?” I nod. I probably shouldn’t drink around him, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to die, so I don’t see the harm.
He grabs a bottle from the fridge and pours me a glass, but when I don’t take it right away, he shrugs and takes a long sip, refilling the glass and setting it before me.
I watch him cook for a minute and then drink the whole glass at once, not tasting it at all.
It doesn’t help my nerves, so I pour another one to the brim and start drinking quickly.
We’re quiet as he focuses on cooking, Theo humming to the music as the kitchen starts to smell of bacon and butter and chicken. He smiles at me tightly as he catches my eye.
“How was your day, sweetheart?”
“Um, long. I’m tired.”
He frowns a little. “Do you get insomnia often?”
“Uh, no, not really.”
“Okay, well, please don’t take that Ambien that Suzie gave you, okay?
You shouldn’t take it if you drink.” He looks between the bottle and the wine glass in my hand, surprised.
“Especially with how much you drink,” he mutters.
I nod slowly, ignoring his passive-aggressive comment as I work through the second glass of wine and empty the bottle into the glass.
I can finally feel the wine hitting me, and I realize I’ve had almost a whole bottle of wine on an empty stomach in less than half an hour.
Whatever. If I’m going to die, I’d like to experience it as little as possible.
“Why couldn’t you sleep?”
I snort, and I can’t filter myself in time. “Some crazy asshole broke into my house and raped me,” I snap. His head jerks up towards me, his eyes wide.
“Alexandria, what the fuck are you talking about?” I choke out a laugh. Is he seriously this delusional?
“It was you,” I say, drawing the words out. Theo’s face goes from horrified to angry.
“That is fucking bullshit,” he snaps as he walks towards the island, leaning close to me.
“First, I have keys, so I didn’t break in.
Second, you loved the sex.” My cheeks burn, and his face slowly turns from angry to somewhat relieved.
“Third, please stop insulting me. I don’t fucking like it.
” He grabs my wine and starts drinking it as he retreats to the stove, removing the chicken from the large pan with an incredulous, frustrated look.
“I don’t understand why you would fucking say that,” he mutters, shaking his head.
“Because that’s what happened.” I know I shouldn’t push, but if I’m going to die, I’d rather die being honest for once. He looks over at me, shocked and concerned as he stares at me intently.
“Say that again. Right now.”
“That’s what happened,” I say slowly, and Theo’s eyebrows quirk together a little. He blinks, his face becoming intensely focused.
“What’s your full name?”
I frown at him, confused. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Answer the question.”
I roll my eyes. “Alexandria Marie Shearer.” He blinks quickly, his head tilting to the side just a little.
“Where are you from?”
“Bangor, Maine.”
“Did you like the sex?” Heat creeps into my face.
“No.” He smirks a little, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms, suddenly more relaxed.
“Oh, so you didn’t like getting tied up and forced to come? That’s not something you’re into?” he teases, and I go cold immediately.
“No.”
Theo looks amused. “Uh-huh.” His smile fades, and his brows knit together as he considers me momentarily. “Alex, do you honestly think I raped you?”
“You fucking did,” I snap. His eyes narrow at me before the tension bleeds out from his shoulders.
“Jesus, Alex, come on,” he says, rolling his eyes before looking back at me with interest. “Would you have liked it if I had? Is that why you’re pushing this?”
“What? No, you fucking freak.” He watches me closely when I speak and his eyes widen, his lips quirking at the corners in amusement.
“Okay, got it. I don’t think I’m into that, but I’m happy to accommodate you,” he says as he turns back towards the stove.
What the fuck is he talking about?
We’re silent as he finishes cooking and washes his hands, leaning against the sink and staring at me contemplatively as he dries his hands.
“Dinner’s going to take a while. Why don’t we go hang out in the living room?” The wine swims through my head, and the first thing I think pops out of my mouth.
“Oh, are you going to rape me there?”
He looks surprised. “Sweetie, do you want to do this right now? We can watch TV or something.” I cross my arms and glare at him, feeling the full force of the bottle of wine washing over me.
“It’s not like I get to choose, right?” Theo grimaces slightly before shrugging.
“Whatever you want, Alex.” He’s across the kitchen in a few long strides, grabbing my arm hard and pulling me down the hall to the living room.
Panic starts to cut through my drunken haze, and I try to pull away from him, but he’s much stronger than I am.
He yanks me close, looming over me and pulling my arms behind my back, both my wrists gripped in one of his hands.
I struggle to get my breathing under control as he undoes his belt with one hand and pulls it off quickly.
I flinch when it makes a snapping sound, panic making my body lock up and I slam my eyes shut.
Did I seriously fucking push him to do this?
“Stop,” I plead, but he doesn’t listen to me as he grabs me, spinning me around and shoving me forward across the arm of the couch.
He ties my wrists with the belt, cinching it so tightly that the leather bites into my skin.
I whimper in pain as he fists my hair in his hand and pulls my head back, my back arching towards him.
“Theo, please.” He shoves the skirt of my dress up and pushes my thong to the side, and he laughs a little as he slips two fingers inside of me easily. My face flushes. I don’t understand why I’m so wet. His fingers slide out of me, and I shake my head as I hear him undoing his pants.
“Please stop,” I beg, and he releases my hair, his arm slipping across my throat and pulling me back into him as he shoves inside of me, bottoming out in one rough thrust. I scream, trying to struggle but unable to move as he starts thrusting, choking me slightly with the crook of his elbow as he grips my ass with his other hand.
“Doesn’t feel like you want me to stop,” he growls into my ear as he thrusts into me mercilessly. I gasp as a rush of heat floods down my spine, and I bite back a moan as his hand slips up my body to cup my breast.
What is happening? I don’t understand why this feels so good. Do I like this? Why the fuck would I like this? What is wrong with me? I start to cry, confused and terrified and unwillingly turned on.
“You look so pretty when you cry for me,” he whispers. I shut my eyes against his voice and the feel of him. I can’t be into this. I can’t like feeling overpowered like this. I can’t like the way my body feels. I can’t enjoy the sounds he’s making. This is so fucked up.
I panic as my leg starts to tense up and the heat in my spine builds.
“See? You fucking want it, you little liar.” There’s no way this is happening. There’s no way I like this. I’m not about to let myself come from getting raped.
“Stop! Stop! Please stop, please,” I sob, and Theo freezes.
His hand comes to my jaw, tilting my face up and back towards him.
I whimper in discomfort. My shoulders hurt from my arms being tied behind me and being pulled backward off the couch by Theo, and looking up at him makes my back bow farther and my shoulders hurt worse.
His grip is gentle on my jaw, and his face is concerned as he looks at me.