Chapter 7
POV: Gabrielle?
I basically wanted to drown myself in the bath—or at least pretend like I drowned and passed out, just to catch him off guard.
I thought about it. It would be the easiest way to get free.
But then where would I go?
I hadn’t been able to tell how far we were away from Denver or how far the nearest neighbor was, so without an adequate plan, he’d catch me and probably really make me pay for it.
It seemed like a game to him. And I knew that all games had a winner and loser.
And in this case—he had all the best cards in his deck so I was playing a losing game from the start.
I had to strategize. I had to watch.
So, I decided during my bubblebath that next time he brought me out for dinner, I would memorize everything I saw.
I would be nice to him in order to take in my surroundings and to get him to trust me.
I would ask questions to learn about his weaknesses.
I would do anything I can to get the fuck out of this place.
But by the time I heard the door opening, he was gone. I tried to pound and curse him out but he just harassed me by saying “Gotta be faster than that, Belle”.
So I gave up, because it was useless and I knew he wasn’t going to open the door so I just dug into a plate of pancakes, aggressively chewing bacon, and downing half the coffee as I sat cross legged on the floor.
My eyes darted to the cooler that he left with the breakfast so I peered inside.
A cold can of cola and a wrapped sandwich was inside.
Lunch.
This asshole left me lunch for later.
Looks like I’ll be stuck inside this room for the remainder of the day.
And it was just as I anticipated.
Four hours later and I was still inside of the room, watching dumb re-runs of a campy television series I absolutely loathed and stuffing my face with the left lunch.
Then I heard the door lock turn.
I quickly jumped to my feet, arming myself with the crumpled can of drank cola.
In walked Clark, or whatever his name is, a satisfied grin on his face as he clutched a pair of cuffs in his right hand. He towered over me, he always did, but now I wasn’t nervous, I was just disgusted by him.
“Don’t touch me!” I yelled, dodging left then right as he walked towards me.
But he didn’t stop, he just kept stalking towards me at an infuriatingly slow pace until he stood inches away from my face.
I vaulted the cola can right at his face but he hit it away with one swat.
I ran forward, fists clenching and held up to my face in a defensive posture and began smacking him with all of my force.
He laughed, the bastard actually laughed when I hit him. Then he casually grabbed my wrist, tightening it then dragging me towards the bed as I tried to kick, hit, and even bite him.
No, no, no, I thought. This can’t be happening. He’s going to rape me. He’s actually going to rape me.
Fear curled inside me but so did something else, the need to fight.
I kicked harder and faster and even scraped his skin with my nails.
He winced, but only barely, as he slid one handcuff onto my right wrist, tightening it so it hurt everytime I moved, then latched the other handcuff onto the bedpost to restrain me.
“If you touch me I’ll fucking kill you! I’ll scratch your eyes out!” I warned.
A devilish grin spread over his face as he watched me struggle. “I told you, Belle, rape’s not my thing.”
A breath of relief slid out of my mouth.
Because for some reason, I believed him.
“But that doesn’t mean I can’t watch you squirm.”
What the fuck did that mean?
He walked over to the corner and picked up the dildo then tossed it on the bed.
I scowled. “I’m not letting you touch me with that either!”
He chuckled darkly. “We’ll see how you feel in a few minutes.”
I tore my gaze away from him and looked straight at the wall.
He changed the input on the television with one easy click, then a still image flashed on the screen.
A blonde woman with her lips curled into an o shape.
“What the fuck—” I began, shooting him another glare. “Porn?”
He sent me a wink.
I wanted to gag.
He clicked play and it went straight to sex. No foreplay. Just immediate fucking. Boobs. Fake ones at that. And a man with the largest cock I’ve ever seen in my life.
I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breathing.
I knew what he was doing.
He was trying to get me horny so I’d fuck him.
Not happening. Not fucking happening.
“You’re seriously fucked up,” I muttered under my breath with my eyes closed.
The fucking got rougher from the sound of it. Loud moans and groans and the man repeating things like, “Fuck baby, you feel so good”, “Just like that”, “You make me so fucking hard”, and “You take this cock so well.”
I blinked one eye open and saw his cock slide in and out of her then turned to look at Clark.
He was smiling. His dark hair was tousled, perfectly tousled, and the shirt he was wearing clung to every single one of his muscles, and his eyes were stuck on me like glue.
How could someone psychotic be so fucking hot?
Stop thinking like that, Gabrielle, he’s a psychopath not someone you want to fuck. Don’t get things twisted.
I closed my eyes again, sucking in a deep breath, trying to think about anything but sex. But it was kinda hard when the moans only got louder.
“Belle,” his voice sounded closer.
I blinked one eye open and saw he was peering at me from the edge of my bed.
“I can help you,” he said, running his thumb over my arm.
My pajamas were ruined, practically soaked, from my wetness.
But I wouldn’t give in.
I snapped at him, using my free arm to swing at him.
He took a single step back and chuckled.
He closed his eyes and lifted his nose to the air, taking a deep breath in. “I can smell you from here, Belle.” He blinked his eyes open and his gaze caused me to jolt.
I clenched my thighs closer together. “You can’t smell anything.”
“But I can,” the smile grew wider as he ran a thumb along the open bit of skin on my ankle, trying to arouse me.
“Let me help,” he pleaded, his grip tightening around my ankle, sending me into a spiral.
Don’t look at him, Gabrielle. Keep your eyes closed.
The moans got louder as the man increased his pace.
I closed my eyes so tightly that it hurt.
I could feel my cheeks red from his touch, from the way his touch sent shivers down my spine.
“I bet you taste sweet,” he whispered.
“You’ll never know!” I barked back, tugging at my chained wrist and letting out a whine. “Get away from me!”
He let go of my ankle and took a step back, and he respected my wishes.
His gaze drug over my face, taking in my half lidded eyes, flushed cheeks, my rapid beating heart and my clenched thighs.
He bent down right above my head, his warm breath tickling my hair. “You surprised me, Gabrielle.”
“Why because I don’t want to have sex with a psycho?” I spat.
With one click, he took the cuffs off and started towards the door.
I didn’t even have it in me to chase after him this time. I was too embarrassed by the pool of wetness in my panties and the way my skin flushed when he was near.
This was fucked up.
My captor just made me watch porn, offered to get me off, with a dildo, and his tongue, and even though I vehemently denied it—and a part of me actually wanted him to.
The bruise on my wrist hurt, but the sexual thoughts…of him hurt far worse. Because it meant I was just as fucked up as he was.