Cellar Door

I’m probably making an irreversible mistake. I should’ve just put a bucket in the corner for her. That was the plan, wasn’t it? To desensitize myself—see how long her torture takes. Harden myself enough so I can lock a woman down there for good.

The plan shouldn’t be this difficult. Makenna is the perfect test subject.

She touched that piece of filth. She worked beside him. Fucked him. Her skin is soiled by his rotten flesh. I keep this thought in mind as I hike her toward the bathroom.

I could almost feel guilty for having broken her. I know what that’s like. I’ve suffered the same kind of torment—and if I only looked at her from that angle, I could easily see her as a victim. See us as the same. Kindred.

But we’re not.

She wore my dead sister’s necklace around her neck while she had all the evidence right in front of her…and she refused to see the truth. That’s a choice.

I throw open the shower curtain and twist the lever. Water rains down from the showerhead. I heave her off my shoulder, cradle her in my arms for a moment until the water gets going, then I plop her in the tub.

She sputters as water drenches her face. Her eyes snap open, and she wipes at the smears of dirt as she tries to clear water from her eyes. “What—?”

“You stink.” I lower myself down, closer. “Just like an animal.”

She raises a hand to slap me, but as she becomes fully cognizant, aware of her injured hands, stops mid-strike. Her gaze catches the blood she left behind on my shirt. Fact is, she doesn’t smell. But if I keep her down there with blistered hands, she’ll get an infection. She’ll get feverish and sick.

I don’t need that headache.

I pick up the bar of soap from the corner ledge and toss it at her. “Cleanse your hands.”

She’s still lying in the base of the tub, water cascading down her body. My white T-shirt is completely drenched now, displaying her breasts clearly through the thin material. The bar of soap rests on her belly. Her eyes flare; her heated gaze doesn’t stray from my face.

There’s part revulsion I see there—but more distressed calculation. Searching for what she can use against me. I should look away, but my gaze is drawn to the outline of her tits.

I’m an animal, too.

With renewed effort, she pushes forward and climbs to her feet, bringing her face level with mine. She never takes her eyes off me as she crosses her arms and grasps the hem of the soaked shirt, then drags it over her head.

My nostrils flare, breaths sawing in and out of my lungs.

A dare hitches her eyebrow. “You took me,” she says. Her voice is steady despite the tremble of her lips. She’s shaking. From the cold, the exposure. “You want me.”

My mouth flattens into a hard line and, teeth gritted, I brace my hands on the edge of the porcelain tub.

“You can have me…” She swallows hard. “All I want to know is what you did with Hudson’s body.”

I grip the edge tighter. Push my face so close to hers I can taste her fear. “I’m not that kind of monster.”

The tremble overtakes her as her eyes sheen with angry tears. She covers her breasts with her arms.

I reach into my pocket and bring out the key ring. There are only three keys, and I select the one that fits into the lock on her cuff. I kneel, placing myself in prime position for her boot to meet my head, but she remains still. So still, I look up to make sure she’s still mentally with me as I cup her calf to bring her leg forward.

I delicately place her foot on the lip of the tub and slide my palm along her wet jeans till I reach the cuff. All the wrong thoughts enter my head, and again, I know this is a dangerous position. For both of us.

One good kick to my chin, and Makenna could gain enough seconds to sprint from this room. Get outside. Be lost.

And despite my loathing, I’m not blind. Her soaked jeans are an evil temptation, making me wonder how hard I’d have to yank to peal them off her wet hips. Too many years spent depriving myself, so I would be nothing like those vile devils, to keep my focus pure—and I’m one frayed nerve away from tripping over the line.

Love, lust, hatred… They’re all connected. One just as easily substituted for the next.

Monsters take. Monsters steal. They deprive of power. She sees me as this type of fiend—but despite the desire to inflict pain, I don’t take. I don’t steal. I don’t rob an innocent of their power.

That’s the dividing line between monster and devil.

Resolve reinforced, I unlock the cuff and remove it from her ankle. Then, without meeting her deep-brown eyes, I push away from the tub. I walk backward, keeping my gaze locked on her half-naked body, until I reach the door. Where I drop the cuff and chain.