Beauty & The Biker

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—please,” I beg.

He says nothing in return and jerks me in front of him holding my elbows and shoving me down the cold steps to the cellar.

“I told you if you behave, I’ll be good to you, but you want to run your mouth. Now you can run it down here where no one can hear you.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll be good Tristian. Please don’t leave me down here. I’m scared of the dark. I suffer horrible panic attacks.” I can’t stop my tears as they stream down my cheeks.

I have given myself freely to a monster. I don’t know why I thought he was different then what people say. He has a bad reputation for a reason. I need to keep that in mind next time he tries to touch me.

“I will come for you when I think you are ready to behave. And while you are down here maybe you will remember something important.”

He shoves me roughly through the iron door I saw the night before. It’s cold, dark, and lonely. He closes the door to my cell and locks it without another word or glance in my direction.

I curl into myself on the floor and sob, praying I can escape this hell of my own making. I can hear him laughing at me as he walks upstairs.

What kind of man treats a human being this way? A few stolen touches and I was falling for him and playing right into his hands. He is a beast from hell. The monster you were warned about as child. The kind of vile creature, who thrives on fear, lurking in the shadows of your closet and hiding under your bed. He is the kind of man who will take a man’s daughter and use her against him.

But what is a woman to do when she is no longer a child and can’t call out for her daddy to make the bad man go away. I’m an adult and the monster now sleeps in the room next to mine, and a seriously messed up part of me wants him sleeping in my bed beside me.

**

The faint humming of music can be heard in the distance. Is someone playing a piano? I feel sick and disoriented and as if I have been here before, in this room. But that can’t be possible. I would remember it if I had.

Finding my breath and my feet, I feel along the wall, hoping to find a way out, but no luck. Just cold stone walls. There isn’t even anywhere to sit. What if I need to throw-up or use the bathroom? Maybe this means he doesn’t intend to keep me here for long. Sinking back down to the floor, I strain to hear the faint melody playing in the distance until I fall asleep.

Chapter 7

ISABELLA

I’m not sure how long I have been down here in this cold, dark, damp cell in Tristian’s dungeon when he comes back for me. I don’t even think a day has passed but I can’t be sure. I slept for a few hours after I passed out from my panic attack. I don’t do well with the dark or tight spaces.

The iron gate creaks open after he unlocks it. My eyes are tender and sore from crying so hard. My legs are stiff, I am cold, hungry, and in desperate need of the bathroom.

“I see you have survived,” he notes as I stretch my tired bones.

“With no help from you.”

“I can leave you down here. Makes no difference to me, but that just means I have to dock your pay for time missed.”

“You are kidding me right? You are going to hold it against me because you chose to stick me down here for having an opinion.” I shove past him as he holds the door open for me.

“Clean yourself up, I’ve cooked you breakfast,” he says following me up the stairs.

I make my way up slowly feeling exhausted and depressed.

“Move!” he barks kicking the back of my shin.

I break my fall with my forearms against the top stair. That smarts. A single tear escapes as I push myself up.

“Your Grandma Iris was slow but she was old.” He laughs.

I glare at him before rounding the corner to the stairs that lead up to my room.

He snorts and goes toward the kitchen.

I start up the stairs and he calls out, “be in the dining room in twenty. I don’t need to remind you to be punctual.”

“Yes Sir.” I salute him with my middle finger behind his back.