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Summer
CHAPTER 21
My head is throbbing, my stomach feels sick, and my mouth is taped shut.
Oh, my God! The package!
My eyes fly open as horror consumes me.
“You’re awake.”
Steve.
STEVE!
I try to raise a hand to slap his face, it’s now right in front of mine, but I can’t. My hands are bound. I try to kick out at him, but I can’t do that either, my feet are tied as well. Panic quickly joins the horror when I realize what’s happening.
Oh, my God! HE’S my fiancé! I knew he looked familiar but I ignored my instincts. He’s different than the pictures I’ve seen of him. It’s his hair, he bleached it. STUPID, STUPID, STUPID!
We’ve never met, the marriage was arranged by our fathers, he was off at school, or overseas, or doing whatever privileged boys do while their father rapes their intended brides and sets them up in a deal to secure their financial monopoly. He never came home to meet me. He was always too busy.
I was only a bonus in a business transaction. For both of them. Everyone except me.
I quickly realize I have no idea where I am. I’m on a bed lying down, the furnishings are nice, and Steve’s sitting in a chair next to me.
How did he get me here? He must have taken me after I passed out. This must be his place.
“Summer, Summer, Summer, what did you think?” he gets up and hovers above me. “That you could just leave and play your little game of cute little coffee shop owner, (his voice drips condescension), and slum around with lowlifes like that tattoo scum?” he gives me an innocent smile. If I could get my hands free, I’d slap that smug grin off his pretty boy face. “I have to admit it was fun playing our little game for a while. I rather enjoyed the chase, it was…refreshing,” he comments. Then his expression hardens and becomes dark. A cold chill slithers up my spine. “He thought he could make a fool out of me,” his face inches closer to mine, “and so did you. Guess what, you fucking slut,” my eyes widen, “yes, I know you spent the night with him, filthy whore.” I suck in a breath. This can’t be happening! “The joke is on you. They’re on their way to take us back home. And you’re going to pay for running away and disgracing me.” He grips my chin hard, his fingers digging into my jaw. “So is he.”
Stay calm! You suffered his father for years, you can get through this!
I force myself to relax under his grip. I need to make him think I want to be here with him. I have to keep him calm so he doesn’t hurt me. I let out a long breath and my body follows, each limb loosens individually, then my entire body relaxes. I have to de-escalate the situation. My eyes flutter as I force myself to pull the mask I wore for years over my features and be the compliant female they want. With the tape over my mouth, this is the best I can do. Finally, when I feel I’m that girl once again that had to face the world every day, night after night, month after month, year after year, of being used and degraded and raped, having to give them that expression that says everything is perfect, that I’m fine and everything’s wonderful, I look Steve in the eyes.
He looks at me questioningly. “What are you up to?”
I shake my head once and shrug a shoulder, hoping that will say, ‘Nothing.’
He narrows his eyes studying me.
I wait for him to make a move, to say something, to tell me which direction he’s going to go. Although we were engaged, I don’t know him, I’ve never met him, but his father did a wonderful job of making me…flexible. Fortunately for me, my father was the master manipulator, and I was a very good pupil. I’ll take Steve’s lead and hopefully I can take it from there.
Finally, after a long pause, he asks with a sly grin, “You know who I am, don’t you?”
I don’t know what to say. Do I admit knowing him, even without recognizing him all these months? If I tell him I do, is it going to help me or hurt me?
I make a decision. One I hope isn’t the wrong one.
I dip my chin once in acknowledgement.
Yes, I know who you are, you’re sick, deranged scum, just like your father, just like all of them at The Club. I HATE you!
A broad, satisfied grin spreads across his cold expression. “Well, that will make things easier, won’t it, Ms. Hollingsworth?” my name makes me cringe. “We’re both adults, and because you are my fiancé, (that makes me cringe even more), you belong to me. Therefore, if that Neanderthal should get any ideas of false gallantry, he will be held liable.”
My heart does a hopeful flip and it takes all the years of pretending and hiding to keep it from showing.
Rock!
But realization squashes any and all hope of him coming for me.
