“You weren’t the only one apparently.” An angry chuckle followed his words. “Apparently he was just Grand fucking Central Station for blackmail.”
“Other women—like me?” I felt my heart skip a beat.
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, but—I thought he was genuine when he said he had never confessed those desires to anyone else.
“No.” Reynard turned his head towards me. “Wyatt killed himself—about a year ago.”
“What?” My heart stopped skipping beats—it just paused in my chest. “Wyatt’s dead?”
Oh my god.
“Yeah.” Reynard nodded. “I thought he killed himself because of you—your blackmail—I thought you lured him, maybe even broke his heart. I was wrong. There was something else going on, something that was a lot worse than revealing his darkest secrets to some girl he met online.”
No wonder they hated me enough to kidnap me and lock me in a cage.
“Did it have something to do with your company? He talked about that a lot…” My words trailed off.
“He did?” Reynard tilted his head to the side. “I didn’t see much about that in the chat logs, other than normal stuff.”
“Most of the time he talked about that—when we were actually talking. He was really stressed out about something. He said one of his deals had gone south and he was afraid that he had made a big mistake—he didn’t really elaborate outside of that.” I tried to remember everything, bits, and pieces coming back as I started talking. “He said it was going to be a problem for your family—I guess he meant the two of you—and your sister.”
“Sister?” Reynard’s eyebrows shot up. “He said—sister?”
“Yeah.” I nodded quickly. “I’m pretty sure he did—I believe her name was Hannah.”
“Mother fucker…” Reynard snarled and ran his hand through his hair. “I know words can’t undo what we did to you here, but I am truly sorry—I reacted emotionally. I let it become an obsession that I couldn’t control—when my attention should have been elsewhere. Hell, it should have been elsewhere all along.”
“If it wasn’t you, I’m sure someone would have eventually tracked me down.” I sighed. “I might not have ended up in a cage—that might have been more kindness than they showed me.”
“Maybe.” He exhaled sharply. “I’ll make sure you never have to do that again. I’ll write you a check that will set you up for the rest of your life—but I’d advise you to cash it quick before all of this unravels.”
Reynard got up and left before I could really respond. He didn’t lock the door, he just left it standing open. I could have left then, but I just crawled back into my cage and closed it. I wished it was locked—wished it wasn’t a temptation. I couldn’t believe it was going to be over—that I was going to be free. I wouldn’t have to steal from people any longer. It still left something inside of me—a hole that wasn’t filled.
If I would have been able to fulfill those promises, I think I would have had closure. This feels empt
y.
I crawled out of my cage and walked out into the living room. I saw a checkbook lying next to the screen that was turned off—he didn’t even watch me after he left. The check was already made out. I could have taken it and ran—maybe I should have. My clothes, laptop, purse, and cell phone were lying next to the check. His keys were by the door. I doubted he would call the cops if I stole his car. Instead, I felt my feet carrying me in the opposite direction—down the hallway—towards his bedroom.
“What are you doing?” He looked up when I entered the room.
“I don’t want to be alone tonight.” I walked to the edge of the bed and pulled back the covers.
I craved his touch—craved his cruelty. I didn’t care of it was pretend, or that he didn’t have a reason to hurt me anymore. I crawled into his arms and he held me there against his chest for several minutes before I felt his lips—I turned into them—and he kissed me. His lips devoured mine. I stretched my arms out until I felt the leather restraints. I wrapped my hands around them as he mounted me and slid between my thighs. In my head, I was his prisoner—but I knew I wasn’t—not anymore.
“I want you—Master.” I moaned when he started to enter me.
“I’m not your Master.” He exhaled sharply. “Not anymore.”
“Then pretend—please pretend.” I sighed and closed my eyes. “Destroy me.”
His touch wasn’t cruel—not the way I craved. The thrusting wasn’t as vicious as it was when he claimed me. It was softer—almost gentle. I needed more. I let go of the leather and dug my nails into his back—hard enough to feel blood on my fingers. I heard a growl rise up from within him. It was the pain—that’s what made him hate—that’s what would bring him back to me the way I needed him. I dug into a scar, pulling my fingernail across it and crying out for him to hurt me. The growl got louder. When he thought I was responsible for Wyatt, he carried an emotional weight—one that was lifted when he realized it wasn’t my fault. The physical pain was all I had left—the only way to release the beast inside him.
“Hurt me…” I begged, tears forming in my eyes—not because I was in pain, but because I couldn’t feel anything.
But he didn’t. He kept thrusting—his cock going deep inside me. He was just using me because I was warmth beneath his lust. The brief glimpse of the beast didn’t return. His own pain couldn’t bring that to the surface, no matter how much I tried. He kept going until he climaxed and then he rolled off me. I was completely unfulfilled, despite having him inside me long enough to orgasm. He didn’t care. I was no longer his toy—no longer an object of his rage. I lay awake in the darkness until I heard his breathing change and I knew he was asleep. It was time for me to go. There was no reason to wait until morning.
I have a feeling my nightmare isn’t ending, but rather—it’s only beginning. He’s changed me—and now I can’t even have what he promised—I can’t even taste his wrath.