31. Chapter 30
Chapter 30
Maeve Henderson
It’s been a very strange two days since Leon brought me here.
I can’t exactly say that I’m miserable; I’m hungry, bored, and annoyed, but he leaves me alone for the most part, and the bed is pretty comfortable.
I almost hate that I don’t hate this more.
I hate that he’s screwing me over with college, I hate that my roommates will forever think they won and I ran like a scared little girl, and I hate that my arm is still throbbing from where he cut my birth control out of me, but I don’t hate where I am.
I am, however, scared to eat.
I don’t know what his diet is like and what could or couldn’t be contaminated.
I could scrub the house clean and be able to cook and eat a meal, but how long before it would be contaminated again?
I’m too scared of being sick; I’d rather be hungry than have to experience that again.
I’ve only ever been given gluten a handful of times since my diagnosis, and each time has landed me in the hospital.
Each time has led to uncontrollable bloating, vomiting, or the other end of things taking over.
Maybe if I starve myself long enough, he’ll let me go.
You know, like the compassionate release that prisoners get.
That feels like a pipe dream. I don’t think he’s ever going to let me go until he gets whatever he took me for.
Given that he keeps forcing himself on me, I have a pretty good guess as to why I’m here.
I gotta say, though, him tackling me in the yard the other day shouldn’t have been as erotic as it was.
It shouldn’t have turned me on that I couldn’t kick, claw, or scream my way out of it, but it did.
Even being as gentle as he was, it still hurt.
Are they all this big?
Shelby’s little toy has nothing on this guy! It felt like I was being split in two when he forced himself into me, and I know he saw the tears, but it didn’t stop him.
I didn’t stop him.
I don’t know if telling him no would change anything, so I’m telling myself that’s why I didn’t say something to stop him, but it’s almost embarrassing how little fight I put into stopping him.
Today isn’t any different!
I didn’t stop him, I didn’t protest or try to run, I let him have sex with me.
It actually felt really good at first; I felt like I could cum, but then the reminder of my bar being cut out and the fear of him cumming in me ruined my orgasm.
So, now I’m scared that I’m pregnant; I’m on edge because I haven’t gotten to cum in days, and I’m hungry.
Maybe tomorrow when he leaves for work, I can try to touch myself and see what happens, but right now, he’s still inside of me.
He’s cuddling me and keeping his cum in me.
Is this normal?
Is this what people in relationships do?
Is that what he thinks this is between us?
I don’t even know if I want the answer to any of these questions, but they’re all swirling around in my mind and clouding this entire situation even further.
I eventually fall asleep for a little while, feeling Leon’s arms around me and his cock inside of me. It feels right, but I don’t think I can ever admit that to him.
When I wake up again, it’s to the feeling of Leon getting hard inside of me again.
I clench my jaw tightly, preparing myself for the pain of him forcing himself onto me again, but he pulls out of me instead.
He moves my hair aside and kisses the side of my neck a few times, forcing me not to react in any way.
I can’t react to this man; I can’t give him the satisfaction of reacting to him.
I feel like if I do, I’m giving up even more than he’s already taken from me, and he’s taken enough.
I’m already wearing a freaking shock collar like a dog, he stole my virginity in his yard, and I’m being forced to quit college.
He’s not also getting my submission or approval. He’ll have to beg for that.
As soon as Leon leaves the room, leaving the door partially cracked, I jump up and rush to the bathroom.
I’ve always heard that it’s best to pee after sex, and with any luck, his cum will rush out of me.
I’m sure after two hours of it stewing inside of me, it’s done what it’s needed to do, but it’s worth a shot, right?
I mean, it has to! I’m not ready for a baby!
I feel like I’m still a baby!
I don’t know how to file taxes, I can’t afford to feed or take care of myself, and I don’t even own a car.
I feel like those are the very basic first steps I need to be considered an adult and be ready to have a baby of my own.
I’m left alone with my thoughts and my worries for over an hour before Leon comes back in. He’s dressed again, wearing a pair of pajamas that look like they cost more than my entire wardrobe, and he’s limping again.
He stops in the doorway and stares at me from my place on the little pillow in the windowsill, staring at me until I finally look up and acknowledge him. “I need you to eat.” He states flatly.
I try to ignore him, looking back to my book, but he gives me a rough sigh that makes a shiver run up my spine.
“It’s not optional.” He adds.
I can’t.
I’m too scared to eat here, but I can’t tell him that.
He doesn’t deserve my vulnerability.
“Not hungry.” I lie, but I don’t look at him. I can’t without my lie falling apart like a napkin in the rain.
Leon sighs before moving further into the room and taking a seat on the edge of the bed, but I continue to stare at my book and hope that he doesn’t keep pushing me.
“It’s not optional. You’re either going to eat, or I’m going to sedate you, and you’ll wake up with a tube feed in.” He says sternly.
I pick my head up, both glaring at him and in utter shock at what he just threatened.
Is this man insane?
Before I can respond, he reaches and takes my hand into his, refusing to let me pull away. “I know about your diet. Can you just trust me a little bit?” He asks much more calmly.
How?
“Have you been watching me?” I ask.
How else would he know about my diet?
How else would he know half of the things he knows about me?
“Yes.” He answers immediately.
As creepy as that is, I should have assumed.
I’ve been seeing his car in passing since we met, and I keep seeing him out of the corner of my eye anywhere I go.
I had always just assumed that we went to the same places at the same time. Now I realize it isn’t totally untrue; it was just planned that way.
Leon stands up, and before I react, he picks me up and cradles me in his arms.
As much as I hate when he does that, I like it.
“I can walk, butthole.” I say sternly.
He lets out a loud laugh but sits me on my feet again. “I will never tire of your insults, ma fleur.” He mentions casually as he walks out of the room.
I don’t really have a choice but to follow, do I?
I don’t want to wake up with some backyard tube feed put into my body while it feeds me some mystery concoction of food that will likely make me sick.
So, I follow him out into the massive and beautiful kitchen that just so happens to smell phenomenal.
He keeps going until we reach the dining room, and he’s able to pull out a chair for me, gesturing for me to take a seat.
I don’t want to do this; I’m terrified, but I take a seat at the beautiful deep wood table and wait anxiously for him to return.
When he joins me a moment later, he’s also carrying a rather large tray filled with roasted vegetables of all kinds. “Garlic roasted vegetables and chickpeas for protein, you need it.” He states.
He fills my plate with a large portion of the vegetables before doing the same for himself, but he doesn’t start eating. No, he watches me until I pick up my fork and nervously poke at my dinner.
I know I promised him that I’d eat, but now that it’s sitting here, I’m scared.
I don’t know if every celiac reacts to gluten as harshly as I do, but I cannot deal with that pain and misery.
Plus, I’ve read about the permanent damage gluten can do to me! So even if I didn’t have such a strong reaction to being glutened, I certainly am scared of anemia, numbness in my legs and feet, my teeth changing color, infertility, and brittle bones.
That’s terrifying!
“You need to eat.” He says calmly.
I look up at him, scared to be vulnerable but also scared of the outcome if he wasn’t actually careful with my food. I have to be honest, and I hope the look on my face conveys how terrified I am.
He squeezes my hand before I’m able to say anything and offers me a warm smile. “It’s okay. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you; you can trust me on that.” He says warmly.
Am I supposed to believe that?
“You drugged me!” I point out. “You’ve kidnapped me from my own bed and raped me! You cut my birth control out of my arm!” I add in for good measure.
Leon frowned as if I’d hurt his feelings by pointing out the truth, but how can he act offended when I didn’t tell any lies?
“Did you tell me no?” He asks calmly.
Crap.
I don’t answer, I can’t. Not without admitting that he couldn’t have actually raped me if I never told him no.
“Exactly.” He points out smugly.
Jerk.
“I did drug you, but I promise you that I accounted for your weight and monitored you while you were out, but I am sorry about that.” He promises. “And I kidnapped you from a home that was no longer yours. I kidnapped you from living on the streets.” He argues.
Can I tell him to shut up without making him mad?
Should I try it out and see what happens?
“Ah! But you still electrocuted me and cut my arm!” I snap back.
He gives a quick shrug, and a smug grin comes across his face, making me regret arguing with him already.
“I did, but to be fair, I warned you not to run, and I pulled you away from the perimeter before you could get hurt. As for the bar, at least you weren’t conscious when I did it.” He adds.
How can I argue with someone who has a rebuttal for everything I say?
He squeezes my hand again and brings my focus back to him and his charming but smug smile. I hate that he has the ability to do that with such ease.
“Think about it this way, ma fleur, I watched you for months, studied you, followed you, and looked after you. Why would I do that if I had planned to hurt you? Why would I pack all of your things and bring them here if I planned to hurt you?” He asks.
Honestly, he's making sense.
If he stalked me for months, then he knows about my celiac. He knows how seriously I take it and being vegan.
"You can trust me. I will always take care of you." He adds in.
I know it's creepy, heck I barely know him, but it's not like I have a lot of options.
Plus, if he did kidnap me to hurt me, he would've done it by now.
If I were meant to be killed and turned into a lampshade, it would have already happened.
Right?
So I have to assume that he’s telling the truth and that he doesn’t want to hurt me. I have to assume that his food is safe, too.
When I dig into the meal, I have to admit that everything is delicious.
All the vegetables are slow roasted, so they're soft and caramelized perfectly, and the chickpeas are somehow slightly crunchy.
It's delicious.
I find myself eating far too quickly not to be embarrassing, but Leon doesn't point it out; he just scoops up more of the vegetables and puts them onto my plate when I am almost finished with my first serving.
“In two weeks, you will be taking your exams online with a camera pointed at you so they know you’re not cheating.” He states when we’re halfway through our meal.
I drop my fork and stare over at him in disbelief. Did I just hallucinate?
“What?” I ask, almost convinced he’ll repeat himself and wouldn’t have actually said what I heard.
“I called the school for you, but I’ll be there to watch you. If you try to warn them about what is happening here, just know that nobody knows where you are, and they’ll never be able to find you, but you will fail.” He adds in.
I don’t understand how this moment crumbled so quickly.
He was so sweet and comforting and shifted into psychotic almost instantly.
How can I shift from feeling safe to terrified so quickly?
I gulp, nodding in understanding, but my focus stays on my plate. I can’t look at him right now, which is disappointing since before this, we were actually having a nice evening.
We were talking and even laughing.
It was nice.
Key word, was.
“Do you understand me?” He asks firmly.
I sit my fork down and brush the few crumbs off my fingers. “Yes, may I go?” I ask quietly.
When Leon tries to reach for my hand, I pull away and put my hands in my lap, making him sigh roughly. “Go on.” He answers.
This night could have been a turning point, but now I don’t feel safe here anymore.