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I let my hand roam over her flesh again, eliciting goosebumps that blanket her skin. Zolina lets out a quiet moan, thrusting her hips to meet my palm. I have been here long enough that the sedative effect of the drug is wearing off. I didn’t give her much, just enough to get her to fall asleep. I slip off the bed and leave the room, heading back to the couch. The feel of her soft skin and the sound of her hushed moans will plague what little sleep I get tonight.
Chapter 13
Zolina
My eyes open the moment I smell food. Unless someone else has made it up here, Atlis cooked breakfast. What happened last night? I remember coming into the cabin, talking with Atlis in the kitchen, stomping into this room, and eating the yogurt and the granola bar. But that's it. I hope there’s enough food left for me because I am starving. A tray full of food sits on the nightstand, waffles, sausage, and fresh fruit, all waiting for me to consume. I lift my arms to the ceiling like I do every morning and stop mid-stretch. Am I fucking naked? Glancing down, I realize– yes. Yes, I am.
My dress has been taken off my body, and I am left in the white panties I carefully picked out yesterday morning. The door is shut, keeping the heat of the rest of the house out, leaving the air freezing cold, and forcing my nipples to harden. My hand slips beneath the fabric of my panties as I feel between my legs. There’s nothing there, no lingering wetness, no semen– nothing to prove that Atlis took my body.
I don't remember taking off my dress or even falling asleep. I look around the room for a sign that will trigger my memory and see my dress hanging from the closet door. The only other items in the room are the nightstands, lamps, and the lonely dresser inside the closet. Atlis came in, undressed me, and left?
But why?
He had all opportunity to rape me if that was his goal. He told me he wasn't a nice man, and I believe him. So, what is his plan?
Frustrated and angry, I get up and look for something to wear. I search the closet, every drawer in the bathroom, and the bedroom. Finding nothing except a towel hanging on a rack, I wrap it around my body and open the bedroom door. I make my presence known and stomp down the stairs and into the living room. If he can just explain everything, maybe I won't fucking kill him.
“Atlis! Where the fuck are you? I've got a bone to pick with you!”
“I have a bone you could pick,” he replies with his hand on his crotch. He’s lying on the disheveled loveseat, appearing to have slept on it, with his feet up on the armrest. He’s wearing a pair of black sweatpants that have fallen to his V-line. There is no shirt in sight– neither on his body or near him. Tattoos and scars cover his skin from his neck down past his hips, and I assume under his sweatpants too. I don’t know how I didn’t see them yesterday peeking from behind his suit.
“Grow up,” I grit out and roll my eyes. “Where are my clothes? If you planned on marrying me and whisking me off to some remote cabin in the woods, you could have at least brought me some fucking clothes!”
“You don't need them. It's just you and your husband. No need to be shy.” he cracks a smirk and points to a duffle bag in the corner of the room. “I have a couple of shirts and some boxers. You can use those, and I’ll do laundry tomorrow. I kind of like you naked, though.”
Walking over to the duffle bag and rummaging through it, I finally find a shirt. It’s easily two sizes too big, but I pull it on and then drop the towel. The shirt becomes a dress, engulfing my body down to my knees. “Now, I have a few questions. And I'm demanding you answer them,” I huff.
“Demanding, huh? And what becomes of me if I don't answer?”
“I'll kill you.”
Atlis bursts out laughing. He underestimates me. Just because daddy raised a princess doesn’t mean I don't know how to get dirty.
“Okay, okay. Enough with the comedy.” A huge grin is still plastered on his face. “What do you want to know?”
“Where is Kias?”
His smile instantly disappears. “Next question,” he growls with enough bass in his voice to make me sit in the chair behind me. We face each other from opposite sides of the room. I pull my legs to my chest and pull his shirt over them. I don't need to give him a peep show– husband or not.
“Fine, we’ll circle back to that later,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Why? Why am I here? Why are we married? Why did you fucking trick me into it? What is it that you want from me?”
“Woah, calm down, Pet. I'll explain everything if you keep the smoke from coming out of your ears.”
“And stop calling me PET!” I yell.
Atlis stands up, jumps over the coffee table that separates us, and grabs my chin with his thumb and index fingers, gripping my face tightly. My hand encircles his wrist. If I open my eyes any wider, they will pop out of my skull.
“I said: Calm. Down.” He speaks to me with such ferocity. His voice is barely above a whisper but deep enough that I cringe. Atlis's silver eyes look straight through me, into the depths of my soul. “And I will call you whatever pleases me. You are my Pet, and I will do with you what I please, and I expect a thank you when I finish.”
I didn't know he could do that, but then again… I don't know him at all. “Yes, sir,” I croak out. Tears start to fall from my lashes.
“Zolina now isn't the time to cry. Save your tears for later. You'll need them,” Atlis whispers to me softly and wipes my tears. He lets go of me and sits on the coffee table. His forearms rest loosely on his knees, his hands dangling between them as he hunches over and relaxes. “If you continue to stay calm, I'll explain everything.”
I nod my head in agreement. I’ll be docile in front of him, but me and my pillow will have a battle of fists and tears later.
“When I was ten, my father took me to the strip club down on Sixth Avenue. He met with your father, and I hung out with a woman named Lolli. When our fathers finished their meeting, I found out that I was promised to marry someone when she turned twenty-one. Little did I know that it was you. My father came to me when I turned eighteen and told me about you. You were still a little girl at the time, but you were already so pretty. I didn't want to marry you, but my father said that I would, or I’d be killed.” He lowers his head as he sighs. He almost looks ashamed but continues. “I’ve watched you grow up over the years, watching you from a distance. I know it’s creepy, but I don’t care. You weren’t mine then. Now, you are.”
At a loss for words, I stare at him. My eyes roam over his exposed skin. I’ve seen scars like his on other people. Some look like knife wounds and others like gunshots. He has two distinct wounds near his heart. My head tilts to the side subconsciously before looking back at him. He’s watched me the entire time and never said anything.
