Chapter 21
Chapter twenty-one
Madelyn
Iwake up screaming as a hand wraps around my throat. The sudden movement from the person attached to it jars me from the sleepy state I had become accustomed to. I don’t really know how long Jackson left me suspended in the dark, but after so long, my mind shut down.
I concluded no one was coming for me, and I was left here to die. It's an embarrassing realization. Gateley must have offered Jackson something better since he didn't come back.
I open my eyes, while still screaming, only to be met with one of those face masks that’s outlined with neon lights. While one hand stays planted on my throat, the other hand holds a phone with its flashlight shining directly at my face.
I shake my head, trying to convey that I'm desperate for this not to happen. But the masked person moves their hand to completely cover my mouth. My screams become muffled, and I force myself to take in everything about my intruder.
Although faceless, his bare chest gives him away. A fresh line of stitches close up the two wounds I gave him. And his tattoos greet me-a familiar yet haunting feeling. Jackson hovers before me, wearing pants with the tip of a knife poking out from his waistband.
“Jackson,” I try to force out, for only his hand to grip me harder.
My lips poke out to prevent me from saying anything else.
My heart races. I have no idea if this is the end for me, but I can't help but feel a little relieved even if it is.
I don't do well with time standing still.
It's maddening. So is the thought of a hunter finally catching me after years of hiding and running.
I suppose it will be a relief to finally end it all.
With the phone steady in his hand, Jackson pulls out the knife. “When I let go of your mouth, I want you to know that your stepfather is watching. So scream, cry, and plead because that's the only thing that will save you.”
I shake my head and struggle to move my body against the restraints.
I want to close my legs. Hide my body. Keep my sanity.
The last thing I want is for my stepfather to see me like this.
Trapped. Helpless. Just like he made me.
He turns the phone toward himself and looks directly into the video call that’s already pulled up.
“Because this fucker doesn't believe that, you're in any danger at all.
He doesn't think that I will fucking kill you if he doesn't show up and give me my money.”
“Please don't let him see me like this,” my voice cracks. “He shouldn't be allowed to look at me in such a state ever again, you know this.”
My thoughts become even more jumbled. While the phone focuses on Jackson, I notice the red light indicating it’s recording.
Tears form in my eyes and leak down my cheeks.
Even though my legs cannot move, my arms are still free.
If Sam did that on purpose, I don't know, but I'm going to use them to my advantage.
I raise them up, slapping the phone and the knife out of Jackson's hands.
They both go flying as Jackson looks at me with eyebrows high and a slight smile.
Forgetting the knife and the phone, he leans forward to place both hands on either side of the chains holding me up.
He pulls me forward, causing my head and shoulders to lean back and my pussy to get level with his face.
“If you're talking about this sweet cunt, you have nothing to worry about. That bastard will never see it. The video has been from the waist up, little fire. What’s between your legs is mine.” He moves toward me, closing the space between us.
His body heat seeps into my skin, and I relish the chance to feel his warmth.
His face dips down to my center as he nips on my clit through the fabric of his mask.
My legs immediately want to clamp shut, but the ropes, of course, make that impossible.
I gasp as my fingers find refuge in his hair.
I want to be mad at him for leaving me. But for some reason, the anger refuses to surface.
He pauses for a moment. “Yes?” he asks, voice deep, before nipping me harder. A mix of pain and pleasure surges through me.
“No...thing,” I struggle to get out the words.
Jackson chuckles in response. He pulls me even closer, practically burying his face in my pussy.
His abrasiveness doesn't stop there. He continues to have his way with me…
licking, sucking, biting my clit, and using the fabric is a tool against my resolve.
My back arches from the combination of it all.
My fingers pull at his hair, causing strands to intertwine.
He is everywhere and yet so far away. “Closer,” I plead.
Not just for his body, but also for his mind.
Jackson stops, lifting his head through the mask.
The eyes of it studying my face before he releases me to go pick up the phone and the knife.
Adjusting the video so that it faces him, he waves a finger at it.
“She is just so fucking tempting, I forgot you were here.
But I think it's important to remind you why paying up is top priority.”
The video pans back in my direction as Jackson comes to my side. Holding the knife, he brings the blade close to my collarbone. Remarkably close to the same place I cut him. My chest trembles from both my increased breathing and the realization that I’m fixing to be in pain.
He brings the tip of the blade down on my skin, moving from left to right.
I hiss at the burn as blood droplets trickle down to my breasts.
Tears form in my eyes from the pain, but also because he did it on purpose.
“She cuts beautifully,” he taunts into the phone before zooming back in on his work.
“I just made her match me.” He pans toward the stitches.
“But I have plenty more old wounds to go.
So if you don't call me back with a plan before the next ten minutes are up, I'll move on to the next, and this one is a lot fucking bigger.”
He punches a few buttons, then tosses the phone on the floor.
In one fluid motion, he pulls off his mask.
His gaze locks in on the blood still going down my chest. There's heat behind his eyes.
A burning so vivid that the look of him takes me aback.
And yet, despite my fear, I want nothing more but to be consumed by him.
“I had to show him,” he murmurs. His fingers trace along my wound.
I flinch from the pain. “At least now I know what you have been up too but surely there were other ways to let him know how serious you were,” I whisper while watching him intently.
“Without your fear, I’m just a man behind a mask talking shit. I already tried by myself.” Jackson drops the knife in favor of unbuckling his pants. As soon as I see his hard cock, my body tenses with need. “Is this your way of apologizing?”
“Yes. Among other things,” he answers, while eyeing the blood that continues to come from my cut. He uses his fingers to scoop up as much as he can.
“And this contraption? How does it fit into the equation?”
A corner of Jackson’s mouth twitches. He takes the hand coated with my blood and strokes his cock. “Isn’t it obvious?” With no warning, he rams his cock into my pussy. I moan at the suddenness of it all. He quickly grips both wrists. “I want to fuck you in it. Take you. Own you, little fire.”
He pulls out until only his head is in. “Just like this. And being able to use your position to make Oliver see reason is just a bonus.” His hands maneuver over mine until we are both holding onto the chains on either side of my body.
Using this to his advantage, he swings me so that I am the one providing the thrusting motion.
Pressure builds in my belly as we continue to move with each other.
“The whole time Gateley had me in that room, I was thinking about coming back to you. But first, I wanted to find the man who did so much damage.” He pushes himself closer until I can feel his balls against my ass.
Fuck. Every time I think I can’t take anymore of him; he proves me wrong.
“And I understand how that sounds coming from someone like me. Just the thought of him having you makes me want to rip his throat out.”
His arms force me to move faster, causing us to pick up rhythm.
I force myself to breathe through his declaration and the sounds of his skin slapping against mine.
The effect is mesmerizing. Intoxicating.
Frightening. The way he can pull feelings and thoughts out of my mind when I’ve been so reluctant to feel anything. Mentally or otherwise.
“Jackson,” I plead, grabbing his shoulders. “He saw me so weak. You did that.”
He groans at my touch, but doesn’t stop. “You’ll never look weak again in front of him. You hear me? Because you are not. When we see him, I’ll show you just how strong you are.” He pauses for a moment. “I don’t need to trust you,” he murmurs, more or less to himself.
My fingers go to the base of his neck as I tighten myself around his cock. “You can,” I whisper. “I don’t have any choice but to trust what you say. Now we are on even ground.”
His eyes meet mine, and for a second, he stops all motion.
The color fades behind them, and his lips change to a thin line.
He’s contemplating my words, but the sound of a ring breaks our connection.
Suddenly our connection breaks, and I find my blood running cold. That’s him calling back. Got to be.