Chapter One #2
“Well, helping a damsel in distress should count as necessary for a ‘sometimes’ gentleman.” She practically purred.
I was putty, and her hands were wrapped around me, molding me the second she speaks. So, of course, I allowed her to lead me down the corridor toward the back of the café.
The fact that it is ill-lit with no cameras didn’t seem dangerous.
I’m Austin Black. Bad things don’t happen to me.
I do bad things to others—mostly those who deserve it.
And if I’m honest, I just didn't see her as a threat at all.
And if I give myself some credit, neither does anyone else.
The café owners, Jenny and Anthony, waved cheerily as we made our way out the back.
I opened the door to her jeep, not questioning how she can drive with an injured arm.
She asked me to place her things on the back seat, and I did.
She stood so close to me that the hairs stood on the back of my neck.
This was it. This is the moment I had been imagining for so long.
I wasn’t going to ask her out; I was going to tell her I’ll pick her up.
I’d promise her the best goddamn date she’s ever had.
We’d laugh about why it’s taken so long for us to do this.
I’ll take her hand in mine, ending our night with a soft kiss that a gentleman would give.
Never pushing her. Letting her set the pace.
And if I were the luckiest son of a bitch in the entire solar system, she’d take me to bed, and I’d finally see what’s underneath her workout gear she’s only ever given hints of.
You’re nearly brought up to speed. In just a few more seconds, I will have that resigned yet confused look on my face.
Because I take a deep breath and turn just as a popping noise fills my ears.
Olivia’s mouth downturned, her smile and sling both missing, replaced with her usual scowl of indifference.
My eyes seek out the popping noise. A small black box in her hand crackles inches away from my crotch, the electric spark flashing in the dimly lit alley.
She is braced, ready to strike at any moment. But to anyone more than a few meters away, we must look like a couple readying ourselves to return home.
And because I’m an idiot, the thought that we look like that to others makes me smile.
“I’m going to need you to hold this cloth to your mouth, please.”
Her casual tone suggests she’s asked me to move the books to another location or perhaps open the door for her. But the words replay in my head, and somehow, I am still confused, even after staring at the white rag in her perfectly manicured hand.
“Umm...what?” I chuckle, her politeness throwing my center of gravity off kilter. I’m not nervous about my physical safety, but her detached tone is unnerving.
“The cloth,” she repeats. “Hold it to your mouth. Maybe sit in the car first. I won’t be able to lift you.” She’s patient, like she’s practiced this, fully expecting my confusion.
“Why would I make this easier for you?” I smirk, glancing toward the back door of the café, which is slightly ajar. Surely, someone will come out and witness this any second now.
The taser pops again as she grips the little black box tighter.
The Seattle sun, which earlier was so unwelcome, seems now like a warning. Like something is off about the day. Like seeing a cat on a leash or a rabbit in one of those rucksacks with the mesh cloth so they have a view of the world. Unsettling .
“I’ll taser your dick and balls unless you do what I say. So lie back and hold it to your mouth...”
Jesus Christ.
I haven’t exactly been using them lately, but still.
..There's no need to threaten Austin and the Chipmunks. They’re an essential part of me.
What would I do without my cock and balls?
Well...pretty much everything I’ve been doing for the last year or two, but still.
You don’t just threaten a man's junk, for fuck’s sake.
“We could maybe go for dinner first. You know, before we get into the kinky stuff.” I waggle my eyebrows at her.
Her eyes lock with mine, and she waits. The back door swings open, its signature thump hitting the red brick wall as Jenny’s laugh sings through the air.
She’s not looking over at us, instead concentrating on swinging a large black trash bag over her shoulder before stomping to the industrial trash bin.
Any minute, she’ll turn back around and see us here.
Olivia’s eyebrows knit together, and her hand slips for a second.
For a moment, I’m worried she’s going to drop her arm and drive away, and our interaction will be over.
I make a mental note to bring this up with Dr. Alfie because even I can recognize that wanting to chloroform yourself at the back of a juice bar isn’t normal .
Even if we don’t use that word in therapy, Dr. Alfie is gonna have to do some real work to convince me this is something anyone else would do.
But then again, have they seen this girl? She’s perfect. I know men who would have seriously done some reputational damage for a woman. Crawl on broken glass, cut their wrists, wear matching outfits on vacation. You know, real heinous stuff.
And I realize I’d wear his-and-her fucking everything. I’ll get the embroidered robes and fluffy slippers. I’ll wear the t-shirt that says “If lost, return to Olivia” as her t-shirt reads “I’m Olivia.” We’ll be that old couple in Europe roaming the streets, making everyone gag.
For now, I have a choice. Accept that the girl has put in top effort, chloroform myself, and see where this goes. Or, do the sensible option, twist her hand back, taser that beautiful tanned sliver of stomach she’s taunting me with, and make a run for it.
Curiosity gets the better of me. Who the fuck is this girl I’ve been watching for two years? And how has she so successfully Ted Bundy’d me?
I might have been known as a cold, calculating bastard in my former life, but I have been looking for a punishment that goes beyond her usual scowls for a while now.
In the ledger of life, I’m in massive fucking debt.
If I ever want to balance the scales, I need to do something drastic.
Or something drastic has to happen to me .
And while I try to convince myself that this is just for punishment, being under the control of Olivia Daniels is too delicious to refuse.
Dr. Alfie is going to have a fucking field day once I tell him about this.
I take the cloth and hold it to my mouth, letting the blackness take me under, and the dank gray walls of the alleyway slip away.