Chapter 18 #3
“So far today? Or just so far?”
“So far. Of course, I much prefer hearing you cry out my name over and over as your body gives in to me.” His eyes darken as he speaks and our hips grind against each other instinctively. “Fuck Spike and his problems,” he hisses, pulling away.
I clutch at the blanket that is still draped around me as he reluctantly lets me go. He grabs his cell and keys and kisses me hard before heading for the door. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”
“Okay.”
“And if you need to go anywhere, Jack will take you. He’ll be on standby all day. All you need to do is stop by the front desk and they’ll fetch him.”
“I don’t need a babysitter, Denham.”
“Don’t argue. You’re my woman, let me look after you,” he insists. “Just close the door when you leave, it’ll lock automatically. I’ll have Tara’s key from her later so you can come and go as you please.”
“I don’t—”
He presses a finger to my lips “I said don’t argue.”
“Fine.” I mock grumpiness with him, but he smirks and sees the smile creep across my face. Although I don’t need babysitting, I like that he wants to look after me. “Have a good day, dear!” I call out after him.
His chuckle moves through the apartment before the door closes and he’s gone.
I feel a little weird being in his apartment on my own, but there is something about it that is nicer than mine.
It feels lived in. Although nothing is messy, there are personal belongings around the place which makes it feel more homey. It smells of Denham too.
When I glance around the bedroom, I see his guitar and remember hearing him play. Two of the strings are broken and it reminds me that there are still so many things we don’t know about each other, still so much to find out.
My phone blips as a message comes through. It breaks me out of my reverie and I read the text.
Beth - Put that hunk of a man down and get your ass to the shop! 11am. Bring your designs.
I laugh at her directness, but I’m also nervous about showing her my designs. I just hope they’re good enough and she’s not disappointed.
I hop off the bed, grab all of my clothes and as an impulse thought, I pick up his guitar.
I head out, still clutching the blanket around me, but I’m only moving across the hall and there’s no one around to see me anyway.
I juggle everything that I’m holding to slip the card in the door and push it open.
I place the guitar down by the doorway as I’ll be picking it back up when I leave. I need Beth’s help with something.
I click the door shut and I freeze. Something feels off. Something’s not right. Ice moves through my veins, inch by inch, and I’m frozen to the spot. A breath touches my neck and the pungent smell of stale cigarettes invades my nose and infects the air around me.
It’s him.
“Hello, baby …” he leers.
It’s Jonny.
Fear creeps upward from my toes and settles in every recess of my body. I knew this time would come. I’ve been hoping and praying with every ounce of my being that he would forget me and leave me to live as I please. I wanted him to vanish. Disappear like he never existed.
But deep down I knew. I knew he wouldn’t let me go. It was a major dent to his pride if nothing else, and his compulsion to own me will always override any logical thought.
Stupid girl.
I should have stayed away.
Now the last few years have all been for nothing. I have achieved absolutely zero by being away other than a bigger mistrust and a deeper cavern in my heart made by the fact that I actually had hope and now it’s gone.
He stands behind me, his index finger gently brushing my tousled hair from my bare back.
The act makes me shiver. Not a shiver of pleasure that Denham gives me; a shiver of repulsion.
A shiver that actually works its way down through my stomach and back up my spine.
I think I’m going to throw up. I clamp my mouth tight shut and will the fear to go away.
I will be strong. He will not break me again.
But I know the power he has over me.
The power to turn me to dust.
“Did you really think I was going to let you go?” he says, his voice resonating a dangerous undertone. “Did you?” He moves closer still, but doesn’t touch me. “My stupid, beautiful girl …”
His nose touches my shoulder and he draws it upwards along my neck, inhaling as he goes. It makes me want to retch.
“I can smell another man’s scent, Arianna.” He pauses and I hold my breath, bracing myself for what might come next. “Sex … it reeks.”
It might have been years since I saw him in the flesh, but I can remember the expressions his face holds and I can picture his curled lip and the wild look in his eye. He grabs the hair on the back of my head roughly and I cry out. Every follicle screams as I feel his grip tighten.
“How did you ever think I wouldn’t find you? How did you ever think you would be free?” He almost sings the words, a torturous lullaby, barely a whisper, but loud enough to ring around my head. “Money talks, Arianna. And in your case, the talk was cheap.”
The ringing in my head gets louder. Echoes further. My eyes lose focus. The pain pulling at my head takes over. “Please …” I manage to whimper. I hate how desperate I sound, but I don't know another way out.
“My. Stupid. Beautiful. Girl.” Every word is punctuated with an exhale of stale breath across my skin.
He wraps an arm around my neck from behind and applies just enough pressure that my intake of breath is affected.
I can feel myself react and start to panic, but my body stays paralyzed out of fear.
I search my mind for ways to get out of this, ways to make it stop, then sharp pain pierces the top of my leg, followed by a burning sensation.
The mixture of his tightening grip and the realization that he just pushed a needle into me sends me into a spin.
Is he going to kill me? I pull every ounce of strength that I can from my body and claw at his hand with my nails.
He drops his grip, letting me go with a snigger and I run.
I run as fast and as far away from him as I can.
I make it to the bedroom when the edges of my vision blur and start to tunnel.
The adrenaline pushes the substance he has injected me with through my body at top speed.
It acts fast and my legs lose strength and buckle underneath me.
The ground seems to rise up toward me, and my head hits the ground with such force that it steals my vision and the world turns black.
The last of my senses to leave me is my hearing.
Everything echoes like I have my head underwater.
I hear him approach, heavy footsteps stopping next to me.
An evil laugh comes from deep within him, and I try to fight my body.
I try to muster up any last piece of consciousness that I can, but it’s futile.
“Still trying to run, Arianna. You’ll never learn.”
My body is jerked to the side and my last conscious breath leaves my body forcefully as his boot hits my ribs. My muscles contort. Old injuries protest. I’m aware that it’s happening, but I don’t feel a thing.
No freedom. No escape. No feeling in my body, just the sound around me eventually fading to nothingness.
To be continued …
This story is concluded in 'High Stakes'