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Why am I so stupid? I should have apologized for snooping through his private possessions. Perhaps then I would not be in the position I am in now.
I was delusional to think he wouldn’t go through with his threats. He is, after all, the butcher. He didn’t gain that name by being lenient on his victims. Why do I think he would view me differently just because I am a woman? It makes me wonder if he has ever killed a woman before.
Tired tears drip from my cheek to my chest, making my sweater wet and stick to my skin. How long is he going to leave me like this? Horrid thoughts of me pissing my pants flash through my mind, giving me another wave of energy to pull and bite on the ties around my wrists. My attempts are useless. He has tied the knots so tight. I wonder how he will even untie them.
The light from the window outside the closet fades as twilight creeps in, which means I have been in here for at least five hours. God, when will he come and release me? Believe me. I have learned my lesson.
Is this how I will spend my final days, tied to a rail covered in my own filth. God, just kill me now! I can’t take any more of this. My body sways back and forth as I drift in and out of consciousness, no longer able to bear the pain from my cramping arms and legs.
Suddenly, bright light blinds me. I blink my eyes, rapidly adjusting to the brightness that now fills the closet. Luca’s shadow fills the doorway with a bottle of water in his hand.
Thank God!
My heart races. I want to scowl and scream at him, but I’m very aware that will only make matters worse. That water in his hand right now looks like liquid gold, and I am not letting him walk out of here without giving me some.
I watch him as he slowly unscrews the cap and approaches me, remaining calm and quiet. He brings the rim of the bottle to my lips. I open my mouth, waiting patiently for him to pour it in, but he just hovers. I can’t help the desperation that paints my face. I want it. GIVE IT! My head jerks forward in an attempt to get some, but he pulls the bottle away, clicking his tongue.
Bastard!
He’s baiting me. He wants me to react so he can leave again and punish me, but I won’t. I won’t give him the satisfaction.
“Ah, ah,” he chastises. “Be a good little pet, and you will get your reward.”
Fucking smug bastard! I want to bite his hand so badly. Instead, I look at the angry welt marks on his cheek and revel in that satisfaction.
Bringing the bottle back to my lips again, I open it for him as he pours the sweet wetness into my mouth. It dribbles down my chin and onto my sweater, but I don’t care. I take as much as I can, savoring every drop. It soothes my raw throat like aloe on sunburn. Cooling and coating the pain.
He pulls the bottle away, but my head moves with it, wanting more. He obliges, tipping some more water into my mouth. Tears of relief stream down my face as I swallow it down until there is none left.
Luca leaves again. My heart sinks in my chest. No-no-no. Don’t go. Don't leave me again. He quickly returns with a shiny silver pair of scissors in his hand. I don't know where he got them from. I’d searched this entire place earlier and didn’t find them.
Holding me up with one arm, he cuts the first tie off with the other hand. My arm flops to my side, weightless and numb. When he cuts the other, my legs fall from under me, but he catches my fall, gently carrying me out of the closet and into the bathroom. He leaves me for a minute so I can pee then returns to pick me back up and place me on the bed. Blood starts to rush back into my hands, making them tingle and twitch. I didn’t realize I was still crying until Luca’s warm thumbs pad my cheeks, whipping away the wetness.
Why, after what he did to me, is he being so kind and gentle with me? I don’t have the energy to fight him off, but even if I could, as disturbing as it is, I find comfort in his soothing touch. I have been so starved from any kind of affection for so long now that I selfishly want to stay in this moment. He wipes away the stray hairs that have stuck to my face. His hands are so warm and soft. It surprises me. For some reason, I thought his hands would be hard and calloused like his heart.
When I look up into his eyes, I see every vulnerable speckle in them. All his demons, all his weaknesses, all that he fights back to maintain the man he is. Abruptly he withdraws from his hold on me like I had just stung him. He knows I saw all his secrets. He felt it too.
He sits on the floor a good few feet away from me, leaning against the window. It’s weird seeing him sit there like that. It takes him a moment to build his walls back up before he schools his features and puts back on the butcher’s mask.
Floor-to-ceiling glass frames the night lights of the city surrounding us. No artwork is needed. Manhattan's sunset creates a masterpiece of its own as far as the eye can see.
“That’s some view,” I remark as I gaze over his shoulder at the city behind him. “Both for those looking out and in.”
“They can’t see in. It’s one-way glass,” he quickly corrects. “So you can walk around here butt naked all day and night, and no one would see you.”
“Except you,” I revise. He doesn’t comment back. A long stretch of silence clears the tense air between us. Something has shifted. Something significant has changed his demeanor towards me. Even his body language is off. Does he know something? I can almost feel the pity bleeding from him. Am I about to meet my maker? Has Nicolai come for me, and Luca is allowing a moment's peace for me before I leave this earth? Panic rises, and I sit up, wincing from the pain. I have to rest my back on the headboard to keep myself upright, still not having the strength yet to hold myself up.
“What exactly am I doing here?” I turn my head to look at him.
“Would you rather be dead?” he answers quickly.
“Depends. What's the alternative? Are you planning on keeping me locked away as a prisoner in your tower forever? Or is it just until you work out how to kill me without you being implicated for it?”
Wow, Scarlet! You can’t help yourself, can you? I have to internally remind myself to be more careful with my choice of words and particularly my tone. There is no way in hell I am going back in that closet.
“I told you before. You will stay here with me until Nicolai is ready to see you.”
If I am not going to die in the next few minutes, then why is he looking at me like that? Like I am a broken doll, irreparable and doomed. If Nicolai is still not ready, has something happened? Has the plan altered?
