He strode back, and this time he untied the ropes that locked my wrists and ankles to the bed, and gently helped me sit up.
“Emily.” His fingers traced down the side of my face then to the curve of my neck. “You can’t fight here.”
His familiar touch awakened my oil-drowned butterflies, and I felt sick that my body reacted to his touch that way. I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood.
“Do you understand why?”
“Yes.” I had no choice. Hours I sat, blindfolded, shivering, wet, cold and alone while I contemplated my life. Fighting them would only make it harder on me. They wouldn’t kill me. No, instead they’d make me suffer each and every day until I gave them what they wanted. I saw the proof of that with those girls. There was no running and hiding from what Logan had brought me into. There was no fighting. All I had left was survival and hope.
“Good.” He put his hand under my elbow, helped me stand then guided me out of the room. He didn’t remove my blindfold, and I didn’t ask him to.
We walked for a while, going through doors and turns until I felt the brilliant sun beat down on my bare skin. I inhaled the scent of meat cooking and smoke as if I was at a barbecue. It mixed with the smell of flowers and ... Logan.
I had the urge to tear the blindfold from my eyes. Without my sight for hours on end, all other senses was heightened. Anxiety crept up on me with every step. I had no idea where we were going, if I was going to be tortured again. God, he could be leading me to a pit of lions and I wouldn’t know it. The fear escalated with each unknown step, and I started shaking so badly that I stumbled.
“Emily.” His voice was steady and calm, and for some reason it settled me enough to keep walking.
I jerked as I heard a door shut behind us. Logan put his hands on either side of my head, and I wondered if he was going to snap my neck, but when his fingers fiddled with the knot in the bandanna I breathed a sigh of relief.
He stopped, then he hands fell away. “Emily ...You’re safer if you cannot see.”
I was trembling so bad that my teeth started chattering. I wasn’t certain whether it was from the weakness in my limbs or the fear of what he was going to do to me.
I heard him walk across the room, stop, and come back toward me. His tone was ... deadly. I’d never heard anyone’s voice vibrating with such controlled fury before.
I jumped when his hand touched my cheek. “You need to fear me, not hate me.”
I did. I feared him. But I think I hated him more. No, I knew I hated him more. For what he’d done. For what he was doing. For the betrayal. Most of all, for tarnishing something so beautiful and making it ugly. I trusted him. I gave myself to him, and he took me, peeled back layers of my soul until he saw it all. Then he took me.
“Do you understand what must happen here?”
I nodded. I did. I understood what Logan wanted of me. He wanted what that girl with the dead eyes had become. The girl being rocked back and forth as some guy pounded into her from behind. He wanted the girl beneath the table. He wanted complete and utter submission.
He wanted me to be his slave.
“Answer me.”
I jerked at his abrupt tone. “Yes. Yes, I understand.”
His finger caressed my lower lip. “Open.” I didn’t want to. God, my mind fought it, and yet I swallowed my pride and opened my mouth. His finger slipped inside, and I wanted to bite down hard, but I didn’t. “Suck.” I did that too. “Good girl,” he soothed. His other hand came around my waist and brought me up against him.
I remained calm, using my breathing to release the panic that tip-toed across my body. Being blinded kept the fear alive inside me. This is what he wanted—fear.
“Leave us.”
I gasped, not realizing we weren’t alone. I heard footsteps walk past us, then the door opened and closed.
“Raul is testing you.” He ran a finger across my collarbone and then lower to the top of my breast. “And me.” A feathered touch swept across my nipple causing it to become erect as if I wanted his touch. Oh God, how was my body reacting to him like this? Why? How could I like what he was doing? Why was there a familiar twinge between my legs?
No. Stop.
I stiffened and tried to tune out his movements. Block him. Keep him out of me. “Please Sculpt, let me go.” It was natural calling him Sculpt as if using his real name would somehow weaken me to his power even more.
“That’s not possible.”
The anger simmered at the edge of my sanity. “So, what do you get for bringing me here? Besides the satisfaction of seeing a woman beaten, tortured, and humiliated?” I braved asking the question, knowing he may not answer, but hoping he’d give me something.
His hand stilled on my neck. I thought for a second he was going to choke me, but he remained completely still and quiet. I was waiting to be hit or dragged back to the basement, and I was now worried that I’d spoken when I shouldn’t have. I wanted to run and hide—cower. I was a mouse quivering and scared of every squeak I made or movement. I was so uncertain of everything that I sought the only reassurance I could get, and that assurance was from Logan.
“I get you.”
I felt the twitch of his finger on my skin. Logan was steady as a rock; he didn’t twitch. Never did he falter. There was something more to his answer. Raul may be giving me to Logan, but there was something else he wasn’t telling me.
“Why? Why are you doing this? Was everything we had ...” I couldn’t finish the sentence. I shouldn’t have asked, and yet, I was losing control. I wanted answers. To know why he lured me into his trap.