She opened the door to the bedroom where she’d been that first night. It was dark and had been tidied up since her night there. She sat on the bed for a minute. Then she decided to move her things there, hoping that he would get the message that if he was determined to keep her here while he waited for those blood tests that she was totally serious about wanting to be left alone. She opened the drawer of the nightstand and took out the bottle of KY jelly that had been put back. She strolled back to his room and squirted the entire contents of the tube all over one of his pillows, then made 5 trips, bringing her things over to the other room. Once she had all the boxes and the big garbage bags of clothes against the wall, she plopped on the bed and stared at the ceiling.
There. That should send a message! Then she felt a stab of regret. Poking the monster with a stick by dousing his pillow in sex lube probably wasn’t the smartest move. Oh well, too late; regret was a useless emotion.
She could smell him on this bed, on the pillows. Was it his cologne or his soap? Or maybe it was some weird vampire potion that made women swoon. Why couldn’t he smell like wet dog or something foul like that?
The pillow smelled sweet, almost like brown sugar mixed with something else, something potently male. She threw the pillow across the room, feeling stupid after realizing that she was laying there sniffing his pillow. Talk about school girlish and Stockholm-Syndrome-crazy!
After all, he was her captor. He may have elected himself her protector but when it all came down to it she had been abducted and she was a prisoner under lock and key and he chose to keep her rather than let her leave. He was more predator than protector. She didn’t consent to sex or feeding his bloodlust. He just took what he wanted. She needed protection alright --- from him.
Regardless of the outcome of the sex she had told him she didn’t consent and he didn’t back off. She didn’t consent to letting him guzzle her blood repeatedly and certainly didn’t give the okay for him to almost kill her. She didn’t agree to a blood test. This was all taken from her. Her repeated requests to leave were ignored and he had gone out and convinced her roommate and bosses that…that what?
What had he said to them? She supposed it didn’t really matter what had been said. No one was looking for her. The hope of being sought out probably helped kidnapping victims, giving them hope:
Somebody is looking for me. Someone will find me. Maybe the kidnapper left a trail.
Most abductees probably didn’t feel hopeless because their captor had hypnotized everyone into thinking they were just fine and away of their own free will. Hopeless? NO! Never hopeless. Please, no.
There was a crucifix lying on this room’s dresser, too. Kyla curled it into her hand and thought about all the vampire folklore that must’ve been total bunk. She closed her eyes and fell asleep, holding it on her chest. Sleep was all she wanted to do right now. For months and months she’d gotten by on a fraction of the normal sleep schedule her body craved per night with the occasional catch-up on a Sunday. Had it all built up to this extreme exhaustion? Or was she sleeping this much in an effort to distance herself from her stark reality? She couldn’t run from her emotions if she was trapped in a room with them. All she could do in response was sleep.
~~~
Kyla felt like she was floating. It was a serene feeling. She smelled something that smelled like powdered sugar donuts or maybe a candy necklace and fresh laundry, She nuzzled in to something hard but yet soft. Soft lips touched her forehead.
Her eyes opened as she touched down onto something soft. She was in darkness but she knew he was there and that he’d carried her back to his bed. She could smell him. She could feel his overwhelming presence.
The zipper of her jean shorts descended. A warm hand swept softly across her stomach and then rose up to her breast. She squirmed. Then her shorts were being shimmied off her hips. She squeezed her eyes shut. Goosebumps rose on her body. Not again.
“That cross won’t keep me away from you, you know,” he whispered softly.
“Yeah,” she said past a lump in her throat, her voice scratchy.
He whispered, “You belong here, with me.” He had her ear between his teeth. His hot breath made her skin tingly. His words, too, they made waves through her. The way he’d said that, so possessive …
“Mmmm,” he moaned into her ear as he hooked her panties with his thumbs and slid them off, “You’re a naughty naughty girl, you know that? I saw what you did to my pillow.”