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BANG.
I jump but manage to keep quiet even as my heart speeds up. My blood runs ice cold. I can’t move, but at least this is all over, right? I wait a minute expecting them to move away so they’re not caught, but then I hear, “Toss him in the trash.” Shit.
I start to crawl away faster, the concrete rough, bruising my knees, but I’m not fast enough. Suddenly, the weight of a huge hand wraps around my upper arm, hauling me to my feet.
“No, let me go. I didn’t see anything.” I start hitting, thrashing out, trying to break free, but it’s no use. I’m weak compared to this giant of a man.
“Hey, boss. Look what I found,” Mr. growly guy calls out, making my muscles tense even more.
“What do we have here?” One of the guys asks, but now I can’t tell them apart. Fear is racing through me and my fight-or-flight response is kicking in, but all it wants to do is fly away. “What’s your name, doll?” A gruff voice asks, and I freeze.
Why would they call me that? Oh god, did he find me? Do they know him?
“He asked what your name was, sweetheart,” another man says from behind me, making me jump and let out a little squeak.
“Please. I saw nothing. I can’t tell anyone what happened. I promise. Please.” I say again, begging for my life and knowing there is a good chance I won’t see tomorrow.
“Look at me,” the third man says. His voice rings out with a command and I’m helpless to refuse. This is Mr. Dark and powerful. I slowly look up towards the sound of his voice. It came from in front of me, but I couldn’t tell how tall he was, so I just stare straight, hoping he can see what I mean by the words.
His thumb and forefinger pinch my chin as he raises my head higher. My blank milky eyes stare into the darkness that I’ve become used to over the last two years. I blink away the tears forming in my eyes. Horrible thoughts run through my head, each worse than the last.
After what feels like an eternity, he releases me, but I can feel him as he leans in, taking a huge inhale next to my ear before he speaks again.
“What is your name, little one?” he asks softly and for a second I’m not frozen in fear, but in shock at how gentle this man just sounded.
“Wren,” I reply just as softly, half hoping he doesn’t hear me. But I know he does when hehmm’sto himself then mumbles something about how fitting my name is under his breath. The air shifts as he steps away. I’m confused for another minute as everyone is quiet around me until the boss man speaks again.
“Let her go. You’ll be a good girl, won’t you, little bird?” I nod my head quickly. “You’ll keep your mouth shut about what happened here or else, right?” I nod my head faster, replicating a bobblehead at this point. “Good girl.” He purrs the words, momentarily giving me pause as a shiver races down my spine, but I push away that emotion quickly. This man is a killer and scary as hell. “Get going, little bird. It’s not safe for a little thing like you after dark.” He must be done with this conversation, trusting that I won’t say a word, because a moment later I hear three sets of footsteps leading away from me.
I waste no time in reaching out for the wall, rushing to the doorway to the safety of my bookshop. I slam the door shut, placing my back against the wall, sucking in air like my life depends on it.
I have never been more grateful to be blind than I have been tonight. It might have been the only thing that saved my life tonight. I reach up, touching the scars that lay faint around my eyes, then I start to breakdown.
Chapter two
Wren- 1 Month Later
I sit at my all-white vanity, staring at myself, holding the small compact concealer. The shade f189 is the perfect match for my skin tone. It hides the bruises on my face and neck almost too well, too bad they don’t make a shade that covers the emotional bruises that mar my heart and soul.
I have just finished applying my light bubble gum pink lipstick that matches my dress when I hear his footsteps. My heart stutters in its beats, my entire body tenses, muscles locking up solid as a stone statue. My baby blue eyes dart around, making sure everything is in its place or maybe looking for an escape route or hiding place, but I know it’s no use. His tall dark frame shadows the doorway and I try my hardest to relax my tense body before he notices, but that’s no use as well. He notices everything.
“There you are, Dolly.” I inwardly cringe at the nickname he calls me, but I keep my perfected “I’m madly in love with you” smile plastered on my face. Dolly is nowhere close to my actual name, but he calls me it because I’m his perfect little doll.
I overheard him talking to his friends once. He told them I was his pet, his doll, a toy to play with, how he saw fit. That’s the night I realized it was true. He tells me what to wear, what to eat, what to do. I have no choice but to obey his commands or I would get taught a lesson in obedience. Then the lecture on how I’m nothing without him, blah, blah, blah.
It wasn’t always like this. I was in love once with this man, who bought me flowers and left me cute little notes on my nightstand every morning, but over the last year those have all but vanished unless it’s the day after a particularly bad “lesson”. I’m not sure what changed, but the man I met in college and thought I loved was gone. He started having late “meetings”, not answering his phone, coming home smelling of alcohol and perfume.
I figured he was cheating and decided to confront him. I packed a bag and was ready to leave. Amber, my best friend, said I could stay with her for a while until I got back on my feet. Since he had controlled everything in my life, I was leaving with nothing but a few clothing items. But I was finally ready. I deserved better than what I was going through with him.
That night, he came home drunk again, stumbling and mumbling about someone named X. I told him I knew he was cheating and that I was leaving him. That I had had enough. He didn’t take the news very well. That was the first night my true living nightmare began.
A hand threads through my honey blonde hair and yanks it back, pulling me from my wayward thoughts. He extends my neck, bearing it in that submissive way he enjoys so much. I bite my cheek to cover my sudden shock, the pained yelp that wanted to escape being swallowed down the best I can. Not wanting to give him more joy from my pain. The sick bastard.
He leans down, running his nose up my exposed neck, making me shiver in disgust, to my lips, where he bites me hard, drawing a tiny bit of blood. “I told you to wear the red dress tonight, but it seems you must enjoy the lessons we have had lately since you decided to wear the pink one.” He licks my bloody lip like the twisted fuck he is. Thriving off my pain. “So, tell me, Dolly, would you like the belt or the whip tonight?” he asks as he stares down at me, excitement sparkling in his shit brown eyes, but I don’t dare speak. He yanks my hair harder, ripping out strands as he shoves me over to the bed, forcing my body to bend in half. I try not to fight, knowing it will only make things worse, but my mind screams, fight, run Wren. I struggle against him, but he just leans forward, holding me down and reaches for the leather cuffs attached to the bottom of the bed.
Cold sheer panic rushes through my already bruised and battered body as he straps one, then the other, into place. I buck and pull, trying to free myself knowing what this means. I turn to scream out to someone, to anyone who will listen, knowing well and good, no one will help me. Before any noise can escape my throat, the back of a hard, rough hand slides across my tear-filled cheek, leaving a sting and a red mark, I’m sure.
A sudden ripping noise fills the air, as a breeze skates up my body as more ripping continues. A second later, my body is bare and I feel the leering excitement pulse from the monster behind me. “Since you asked for this and I know you will be a good dolly, I’ll go easy on you. Three strikes, baby. We still have dinner reservations to get to. So this will need to be quick. How about the belt?” he asks, like this is just a fun game to him. He slides his hands up my back to my hair once more, pulling so forcefully that I have to arch my body with his movement. Leaning closer to whisper in my ear, “Then I will make it all better.” He licks the edge of my ear before he retreats to the closet to grab his weapon of choice.
