Chapter 13 #2
I still have to figure out a plan to get out of here. Then I’ll worry about finding a place to hide. I have some money stashed away, just enough for a plane ticket somewhere close, which wouldn’t do me any good.
I don’t get a salary from work. My father refuses to pay me.
He knows all of my expenses and provides me a weekly stipend, with which I can pay bills and buy groceries.
I only have a few dollars left over after that.
If I want to buy myself anything, he’ll give me the money as long as he approves of the purchase and sees the receipt.
I don’t have a mortgage. My house has been completely paid for…by him. He’s in charge of everything. I’m not living my own life. I’m only visiting.
“Go inside and shower.” Brian disrupts my thoughts. “I’ll be out here waiting.” He takes a seat on the bed. “Don’t take too long. I have to be at work. But I’ll be back to check on you during my lunch break and bring you more food.”
“Wow. I’m so lucky.”
“Come on, Chiara. I don’t have time for your bullshit. Go inside and start stripping, or I’ll do it for you.”
My body heats up from the images of him forcefully yanking my clothes off.
Would he touch me?
“Will I still be tied up the entire time you’re gone?” I purposely make my voice sound small and needy, hoping for his pity.
He considers my question, his brows furrowing. I can see the battle raging in his wavering gaze. His tongue darts out, taking a quick swipe of his full lower lip as he peers from my face down to my wrists, etched with rope marks.
“Please, Brian.” I hate begging anyone for anything, but I’ll say whatever he wants to hear not to be bound. “My wrists really hurt.”
I can tell that somewhere deep inside, he has a savior complex. Considering what he did to me, it makes no sense, but it’s there. I know it. If I can pick at it a little, make it bleed, maybe he’ll budge.
“I promise I won’t do anything stupid,” I continue. “I do believe you won’t hurt me. I’ll just sit here and watch something on that giant TV.” I scoot back against the cream-tufted headboard. “I can’t remember the last time I had a day where I had to do nothing at all.”
Shit. The club.
I haven’t even thought about what will happen tonight. My dad will be more pissed about that than my well-being.
“Fine,” he agrees sternly.
I internally do a happy dance.
“But if you try anything you’re not supposed to, I’ll know about it.” His body gets too close to mine. “And the next time, I won’t care how hurt your wrists are. You’ll stay tied up.”
His hand inches toward me, a finger smoothly landing under my chin. “Do we understand each other?”
He lifts my face up to meet his, his voice lacking the malice I’d expect.
I nod, somehow lost in his gaze.
Tell me why I’m here. I search his eyes for answers that he may never give me.
His hooded gaze is as lost as mine as he peers down at my lips. He sighs, and his minty breath skates over my mouth just as his hand falls.
“Go.” He points a finger to the door to my left, leading to the bathroom. “There’s a towel and robe there already. Your suitcase is in the closet over there.” He gestures toward another door, further down from the bathroom.
“Thanks.”
I feel strange thanking him for anything. But how does that saying go? You catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar. I have to do better at controlling my temper. My attitude will not work with him.
He sits back on the bed while I head inside, finding an all-white, luxurious bathroom, straight out of one of those “homes for celebrities” shows. The flooring is shiny marble with a spray of gray. There’s a jacuzzi in one corner and a standup shower in another.
I turn on the spray of the scalding hot water, hoping to melt away this awful day. I still can’t believe this is happening to me. I need to figure out what to do. I can’t rely on my so-called father. If it comes down to his life or mine, he’d sacrifice me to save himself.
I remove my clothes, leaving them on the countertop beside the double sink, and walk into the shower. When I look for something to wash my hair with, I find all of my things already there. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d been to my house.
I spend my time lathering my hair, enjoying the feel of the hot water running down my body. After I’m done, I wrap a gray towel over my head and use the other to dry my body before throwing on the robe, tightly securing the belt around my waist.
I exit the bathroom, and the cool air hits my legs, causing my shoulders to shiver.
Brian stands, heading for the closet and pulling out my luggage.
“How was the shower?” he asks, his gaze zigzagging from my face down to my tits, trying hard not to stare at them through the robe, but failing.
I don’t blame him. They’re nice. My nipples are hard from the chill. I hope he’s enjoying the barely there view, because he’ll never get to see them without my clothes on.
“It was fine,” I answer, grabbing the handle of my luggage from him.
While I do, my finger grazes his. I gasp as my skin ignites with electrifying heat and my entire body comes alive with tingles shooting up every inch.
He doesn’t so much as flinch, but I can tell from the way his eyes bore into mine, he felt the impact of our touch.
“I have to go,” he informs me dryly, whatever connection we just shared now gone. “I’m locking the door from the outside. The remote is in the drawer of the TV stand. I’ll see you later.”
He gives me his back and leaves. I wonder what mood he’ll be in when he returns.