Chapter Fifteen
J ennifer
I hear a soft knock on the door. I know it isn’t Ethan. He wouldn’t knock. My heart begins to race as I make my way over to the door and slowly crack it open. I can smell smoke as soon as I crack open the door.
It is Oliver. He is standing still in front of my door. sweat covers his forehead like he just got done running.
“Ethan wanted me to come get you.”
I open the door a little wider. looking him up and down. He is nicely dressed just like Ethan, just like Shawn. They all dress in nice dress clothes, their hair always neat.
They are businessmen, or at least that is what the outside world sees when they look at them. But I know the truth.
“Did something happen?” I ask, not being able to hide my concern. Of course something happened, why else would Ethan tell Oliver to come get me. this man standing in front of me hasn’t said two words to me since I’ve been here.
The only reason he would come knocking is if Ethan asked him to.
“I don’t know. He texted me and told me to come get you.” Oliver seems nervous. He’s different than Shawn and Ethan. Oliver is unsure of himself, timid, not as big. But I can see in his eyes that he is deadly when he must be—he can hold his own, that is for sure.
“And do what?” I’m trying to figure out what the fuck is going on here.
“I have to get you out of here, Jenn. Tristan is coming, and Ethan wants you as far from this place as you can get,” Oliver states, making me a little more nervous.
“Where?” I ask knowing that my questions are irritating him, but I have learned from Ethan that is it okay to ask questions. That it’s okay to not take someone at face value. And after everything we all have been through, I think I have the right to ask some questions.
This is all odd and weird. Ethan hasn’t called me or texted me anything. Why didn’t he warn me that Oliver was coming here?
This is not like him. I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all. Something must have happened if Ethan couldn’t even text me.
“There is a safe house on the swap. we will be safe there until all of this is over,” Oliver says confidently. I continue searching for whatever has happened, but I don’t see it. I don’t see anything in his eyes telling what the hell has happened.
It has been quiet here. I haven’t heard anything. But that doesn’t mean nothing has happened.
“He didn’t text me,” I whisper softly more to myself than to Oliver.
Oliver shakes his head and reaches out his hand. “There’s no time, Jenn. Please, you need to come with me. I promised Ethan I would keep you safe.” I can hear the anxiety in his voice. The pleading with me to just listen to him.
I take a deep breath as I study his eyes for a moment. I reach out my hand and watch him gently tighten his grip and pull me out the door.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. I try to pull my hand away from him, but he just pulls me closer and tightens his hand on mine.
He quickly puts a cloth over my face. I struggle, but he tightens his grip.
I feel him lean down and pick me up into his arms. My head is now resting against his chest as everything goes black.
3 hours later
I feel dizzy and unbalanced as I slowly open my eyes and see the black marble ceiling. My heart sinks as I take a deep breath. My entire body feels heavy.
As I start to look around the room, I see there are candles lit everywhere, a floor-to-ceiling window looking out at the city, and the floor is black marble, keeping with the theme of the ceiling.
I slowly sit up and rest my back against the bed frame.
I feel my heart racing as I continue to look around. I look down at my body and see that my clothes have been changed. I’m wearing a black silk nightgown. The black silk sheets are covering me up to my waist.
“You have been out for a few hours,” a man states from the corner of the room.
My eyes lock on him. He is sitting back in a chair, his leg resting across his other leg, hands on the chair arms. His breathing is steady and even. I can tell from here that is wearing all black.
His eyes are dark blue and locked on me as I take another deep breath. I would know those eyes anywhere. “Tristan,” I whisper in a shaking voice.
He leans forward allowing me to finally see his face. His hair is slicked back. showing off his beautiful face.
His shirt sleeves are rolled up past his elbows to show some of his tattoos.
“Hey, babe.”
I watch him get up from the chair and quickly close the distance between us. He is confident as he makes his way across the room.
I want to move so fucking badly, but I can’t—my body is not letting me. All I can do is lay here and watch him take a seat next to me on the edge of the bed.
I can see the side of his face as he looks at the wall. “I never wanted it to be like this, babe.” He is whispering so softly I forget for a moment who I am talking to.
“What are you going to do to me?” I have been underneath him. I have felt what his hands can do. The only thing this man has ever done is make me scream in pain. And he has enjoyed every minute of it.
Tristan has come to my father’s studio for years, putting his hands on me, whispering things into my ear, making me scream and bleed. And now that he has me, I have no idea what he’s going to do to me because whatever it is, now that there are no rules, I can tell that it is going to hurt.
This man doesn’t know any different. Pain and pleasure is what he wants to give me, even if I don’t want it. He doesn’t care. He has made that clear over the years.
He slowly turns and looks at me. He lifts his hand and gently places it on the side of my face. I can feel my entire body stiffen underneath his touch. He keeps his eyes locked on me, keeping me frozen in place
“I am going to love you,” he whispers in a pained soft voice.
His words make my heart sink. His words take me off guard and confuse me. I think to him that word means different things. I have felt his love. And I don’t want it. I don’t want to be his plaything.
“You hurt me,” I say softly, feeling the tears start to build in my eyes.
“I know. And for that I am sorry. Just ... with you, it’s hard controlling myself.” He speaks with regret and remorse, which I have never heard from him before.
“Where is Ethan?” I ask and as soon as I do I regret asking.
He drops his hand from my face and takes a deep breath. There is no rage in his eyes with my question, only irritation.
“I don’t know.” His voice is soft, a lot softer than I thought it would be. My mentioning Ethan’s name doesn’t even seem to affect him.
“But Oliver—” I stop as his words sink in. What does he mean he doesn’t know?
He drops his hand from my face, the warmth leaving with him.
He has always had his warm moments, but most of our time together has been ice cold.
He has a temper that I don’t want to see again.
He has possessive and controlling behaviors I have seen firsthand.
What he wants I can’t give him. And, honestly, I don’t even completely know what he wants from me.
“Oliver works for me, babe. He was my inside man the whole time.” Tristan’s eyes are looking right through me.
I feel even more naked and vulnerable beneath his stare.
“What?” I ask, feeling my heart drop into my stomach.
He slowly nods, allowing a smile to form across his face.
“I planted him right where I needed him. It was all a game. And your boy Ethan didn’t stand a chance against me,” Tristan whispers, making chills go down my spine.
I shake my head and close my eyes. This is a dream, just a bad dream. I need to wake up. I need to wake up.
I feel Tristan grab my throat. I open my eyes. He locks his eyes with mine, making me realize this is not a bad dream. This is not all in my head. This is real. “Tristan, please just let me go.” I feel the tears rolling down my face.
Tristan shakes his head as he tightens his grip on my throat hard enough to make my heart race but not hard enough to cut off my air—at least not yet.
I know what his hands can do. I have been a victim to them for years.
“No, babe, I will never let you go. I need you. I want you. And now I have you.”
“Please, Tristan.” I grab onto his arm, but he doesn’t pull away from me, just looks down at my hands then back up at my face.
He leans in so close it makes me lean back, resting my back against the bed frame again.
Pinning me between the frame and him, his grip on my throat doesn’t tighten or loosen.
He is in complete control of this situation.
And I am completely out of control. Inside I am screaming, cussing, but none of it is coming out.
Once again, I feel like the girl I was before I escaped, before I found Ethan. The girl I was starting to feel again has melted away leaving behind the girl that is timid and afraid.
“I like it when you beg. Do it again.” His breath is hot on my face as he keeps his eyes on me, waiting for me to submit. Waiting for me to do as he wants.
And right now, I want to fight. I want to run. But I am frozen, frozen against his strong body. Frozen in place, scared and alone, shattered once again.
“Please, Tristan, let me go.” I state softly, giving him exactly what he wants. I know what he likes and what he doesn’t like. I know a lot about this man who says he wants to love me.
He leans in a little more, his lips almost touching mine. “No.”
I feel the tears continuing to escape my eyes and roll down my face. I shouldn’t be surprised that didn’t work. Tristan is not the type of man to give away things he believes are his.
He pulls me into him connecting his lips to mine. I feel his tongue against my lips and for the life of me I don’t want to open up, but I know what will happen if I don’t. I close my eyes and open my mouth feeling his tongue enter my mouth, tasting me.