Buttons and Lace (Buttons 1)

It was a nice fantasy.

The car pulled away from the building and merged into traffic. We were on the opposite side of the road compared to what I was used to. The streets were narrow and the car petite. I wasn’t sure where we were, but we were definitely in Europe.

When we were a mile away from our destination, my captor removed his mask. His blue eyes were bright and blue, the kind that twinkled under the starlight. For a moment, they made him look innocent. But after a single blink, the evilness in his soul shined through. He stared at me like I was prey and he was the hunter. Tension filled the air, the warning deep in my heart.

He had blond hair that was combed back, revealing his round face. He had thin lips, the kind that were hardly noticeable. His face was covered with a thick layer of hair, reminding me of a lumberjack in winter.

He stared at me coldly, about to pounce.

I held his gaze, swearing then and there I would murder him if he tried to touch me.

“Your name?” His voice sounded just as cruel as it did during the bidding. It was raspy, like sandpaper rubbing against concrete. It scratched my eardrums as it traveled inside my body. Even those simple words were grotesque. My hatred increased tenfold—something I didn’t think was possible.

I refused to answer him. I refused to comply. If he wanted me to do anything, he’d have to work for it—without any reward.

He chuckled and leaned back into the leather seat. “You’re going to be so much fun. I love it.”

Fun? The second he shoved his dick into my mouth, I was going to bite it off.

“Your name will be cunt.” He looked out the dark windows and stared at the lights from the passing buildings. He wore a black suit with a black collared shirt underneath, looking just as formidable as he sounded. “Unless you tell me otherwise. Between you and me, I hope you don’t.”

This was bad. Very bad.

His head turned my way, and he watched my reaction. He wanted to see fear. He wanted to see terror.

But I refused to give him what he wanted.

“I couldn’t believe my luck when the emcee said your fight score. It seemed too good to be true. That hardly ever happens.”

I still didn’t know what a fight score was. Was it because I killed someone? I wasn’t innately dangerous. But when I had to run for my life, I’d do anything to survive.

“And then you told the room we were a bunch of sick fucks.” He chuckled to himself. “I’ve never been so hard in my life.”

I wanted to hurl.

“My cock has never soared to life like that. There you stood, a beautiful woman with perfect features in a dazzling gown. And then that mouth turned dirty, and you spoke your mind.” His trousers pressed tightly against him when his cock hardened. His hand reached for my thigh where he gave it a gentle squeeze.

Repulsed, I slammed my thigh to the side so his hand would fly off.

He must have expected that to happen because he pulled away, chuckling again. “I’m going to have such a good time breaking you in. You’re like a wild stallion that no one can saddle. You’re like the bull that can’t be ridden.”

Fear crept into my veins and circulated in my blood. When it reached my heart, I was momentarily paralyzed. Being prisoner to this man would test my full strength. I would be subjected to such cruelty that I may not make it out—with an intact mind. But I couldn’t give in to the fright. I had to keep fighting. Every problem had a solution—and I would find one now.

“When we get back to the house, I’m going to fuck you so hard in the ass you won’t be able to sit for a week. Consider it a welcoming gift.” He looked out the window like his words weren’t as terrifying as he made them sound.

“And when we get back to the house, I’m going to kill you. Consider it a parting gift.”

He turned back to me when he heard me speak. Instead of slapping me for talking back or telling me off, he smiled. It was a grotesque look, like my back talk just made him more excited to torture me. “I like a challenge.”

Chapter Five

Crow

We stood in the alleyway, a single streetlight on in the distance. It was some unearthly hour between sunset and sunrise. No cars were on the streets. No people on the sidewalks. When the light was gone, the monsters came out.

Cane stood beside me, the bag of money at his feet. He glanced at his black watch and checked the time. “He’s late.”

“I knew he would be late.” He always liked to make an entrance, to make people wait in anticipation. It was the only respect he could gain—by force.