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The fire that I saw in her only minutes ago is gone. The frail woman I found yesterday in the woods is back.
I’m not sure what I think of her. I like her frail, vulnerable and broken. Yet, when she fights back, when she kicks and screams, when she bites me… that’s when I see her true self, that’s the woman I want to hunt.
I look at her and notice that, as she predicted, her wound has stopped bleeding. I don’t like it, the fact that she knew from experience.
She shouldnotknow how long it takes for her body to stop bleeding.
She shouldnotknow how fast her body heals.
She shouldnotknow what torture feels like.
At least notthattype of torture.
I sigh, gather her in my arms, hold her tight as she tries to push back and set her in the bathtub which is now half full. I can feel her body melt under the hot water, her muscles relaxing instantly, exhaling a heavy breath I didn’t realize she was holding in.
“You’ll start bleeding again, when the water soaks up your wound,” I tell her, but she doesn’t respond. She barely nods. I don’t like this, it’s not that she’s too compliant, I like them submissive in certain situations… well in most. However, now I feel like she couldn’t give a shit about what I say, and it pisses me off.
She closes her eyes as the water level rises and her body slides down into the steamy water. I realize that she’s so short, she might actually go completely under if she’s not careful. I put my palm on her chest to keep her up and her eyes dart open, her body tenses.
I hold her still and my gaze fixes onto hers. I feel her muscles relaxing under my touch—she seems to understand.
The water turns dirty fast, and I notice how she looks at it. Embarrassment coats her high cheeks and for some reason I don’t want her to feel that way. I turn the faucets on again, while draining the water at the same time, just enough to get as much of the dirty water out as possible.
It’s not her fault she’s dirty, beaten, and neglected.Shit!
“Are you hungry? Or thirsty?”
Her eyes shoot up at me. What a fucking idiot I am… of course she’s compliant, she hasn’t eaten or drank anything since that cup of tea last night.
I grab one of the glasses I keep on the side of the sink, fill it with water and give it to her. She drinks it so fast that I’m surprised she didn’t spill a drop. She looks at it, and I see the question running through her mind. I wait for her to ask, but she doesn’t.
I grab the glass and refill it before handing it back. She downs this one as well.
This should make me happy. She’s drinking, she’s feeling better, but I’m not. I’m not happy because I know she’s not asking me for another drink because that motherfucker taught her that she’s not fucking worthy enough to ask for anything or maybe she got punished for doing so.
She sees the fury in my features, and she freezes again. She holds my gaze, completely still, calculating her next move. But I don’t give her time to think too much. I grab the glass and refill it yet again.
“You need to tell me. Who is he?”
She sighs, and I see the embarrassment on her face.
“I don’t know…”
“Are you sure?”
“I thought I did… we met online. His name is Adrien. That is all I know, and I am not sure if even that is real.”
“Where does he live?” I’m finally getting some information out of her. “Do you remember where you ran from when I found you?”
“You mean when you captured me?” For a split second she throws me a defiant look, and I grin.
She’s not wrong, but then again, what was she going to do anyway? The town is miles away down the mountain. She would have either broken her legs, died, or got caught by that motherfucker.
“Yes, when I captured you.” I make sure to hold her gaze as I say it. I’m not fucking playing around here. She’s mine. And if that scares her and she wants to run, all the better. She would just give me the sweet opportunity to finish what I started in the woods earlier.
She sighs, takes a deep breath and sinks all the way underwater, soaking her filthy hair. The water goes dark again, and I get angrier.
I repeat the previous step—turn faucet on—drain bathtub—refill.
