It has certainly been an interesting day. I lay in bed pondering over this situation I have created for us. I’ve never brought any of my flowers inside my home before, simply taken for myself, and savored for a little while before discarding them. I’ll need to take some extra precautions, like paying for that damn ticket on her car and emailing her boss with her notice to leave.
I take out her phone from the bag she dropped when I grabbed her. The screen is cracked, but still working, so I send an email to her boss and then switch it off, taking out the memory card. I’ll destroy her phone later. I put the phone on the desk and the memory card in a small safe for later investigation.
I drive leisurely to her house, which is tiny and ridiculously organized, but surprisingly plain. I grab a suitcase from her cupboard and shove her belongings in it: clothes, photos, and personal items like jewelry, before shutting down the house. She owns it, so no one is going to come banging on the door wanting rent. I give the place one last look-over before locking the door, smiling triumphantly.
Now, she has no obligations to meet, no family will come round to check on her, and she has no real friends, apart from me of course. She doesn’t know who I am, and for now, I intend to keep it that way. It’s going to be just the two of us, alone, and completely secluded. No one is going to come looking for my Violet.
7
Violet
When I wake up, it’s because a small beam of sunlight coming through the boarded windows is streaming directly on my face. I blink in the harsh light, my swollen, sore eyes trying to adjust to the brightness. I sit up, stretching and looking around my prison, fighting to keep calm. I catch sight of a packet of sandwiches and bottles of water by the door. I don’t want to touch anything he gives me, but my dehydrated and hungry body wins the battle, and without further hesitation, I down the water and practically inhale the sandwiches, groaning from having done both a bit too fast.
I walk slowly back to the boarded windows and look around for something, anything, that I could use to pry them off. I have got to get out of here.
I start searching and spy another door, rushing to it I pull and to my surprise, it opens. Feeling around for a light switch and finding a cord, I tug it hoping for a little more illumination. The light, after humming and clicking for several seconds, comes to life.
My stomach drops when I realize that it’s just an en-suite, and not a possible escape route, although a small sigh of relief escapes knowing that I at least have what I hope is a functioning bathroom. I eagerly try turning one of the taps, pleased when it splutters to life, and clean water flows out. I quickly cup the cold water to my face, relishing the freshness on my puffy eyelids. The water I drank down so quickly makes the rest of my body wake up so I quickly relieve myself.
As I get ready to leave the bathroom, I hear a click and the sound of the bedroom door opening. I pause before deciding to lock the bathroom door, and hopefully barricading myself in. I don’t want to see him in the light. I don’t want to see the monster come to life, because that’s the only type of person who would do something like this.
I whimper in fear before climbing into the bathtub and curling into a frightened ball. A bang on the door almost makes me jump out of my skin.
“Open this damn door, Violet!”
“No, leave me alone!” I cry out.
“For fuck sake, open it!” He shouts, even louder than before.
I ignore him, hugging my knees even more tightly to my chest, shaking and praying for him to go away. I don’t want to see his face.
A colossal crashing noise sounds as the door starts to break from the force he is exerting on it.
I scream, loud and piercing, tears starting to flow again.
“VIOLET!” He bellows, and the door flies open, the sound of splintering wood as the lock breaks filling the small room.
I shut my eyes tightly, I don’t want to see. Please don’t let him hurt me. Please don’t let him make me look at his face. I’m terrified of what I might see: his expression, the anger in his eyes, and whatever else may be lurking behind them.
A hand touches my shoulder, more gentle than I expected, before his hand grips tight. I gasp out loud as he yanks me roughly from the tub and drags me to the floor, pinning my wrists above my head.
8
Him
“What the fuck were you trying to achieve? Did you think that a wooden door would keep me from getting to you? Huh?” I demand violently.
She struggles to break free, hips bucking up against me, trying to shift my body from above hers. Her pretty body and her wiggling against me cause me to start reacting physically to her, although I always did want her. She freezes when she feels my erection brushing against her pelvis, a soft inhale of shock passing through her lips.
“Please let me go,” she whispers, eyes still shut tight.
Why won’t she look at me?
I lean down towards her face, my breath lightly blowing the loose hairs that have fallen over her cheeks. She shudders in my hold, goosebumps streaming along her flesh at my closeness. I can practically smell her fear; it oozes from her in waves, and I fucking love it.
“Look at me,” I whisper softly in her ear. She shakes her head, no. “Look at me,” I repeat, more sharply this time.
Still not