Page 18 of All Your Hate
At that, I sit up and look for the source of the voice. A man sits in the chair in the corner of the room like he owns the place. I can only assume he does.
Elegantis the first word that comes to my mind when I see him. The second isdangerous.
He’s dressed all in black. His face is cast in shadows from where the light only just reaches him. Green eyes stare at me from above a prominent nose and defined cheekbones. He’s animmaculate sculpture of a man. So good looking in fact that I question if he’s even real. Has my mind conjured up some god of a man to save me?
As my gaze travels south I see the bundle of rope is now on his lap.
I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. I suppose it is safer to wait to hear what he wants before I start running my mouth.
He cocks his head as he looks at me, his long black hair falling forward over his shoulders while his eyes run down my front, over the shirt I’m wearing. I swear I see approval in his gaze. My heart picks up speed to a frantic pace that makes it pound painfully against my chest.
“Can you speak?” He frowns, his gloomy eyes suddenly looking darker.
When I don’t answer he stands up, bringing the rope with him and in two long strides he’s in front of me. He's ridiculously tall.
I can smell him this close, the musky spice of his cologne fills my nostrils. It’s what was on the shirt and fuck, it smells even better this fresh.
I flinch as he reaches his long fingers out to me, but he doesn’t hurt me. He’s gentle. Delicate, as he tilts my chin up.
“Use your voice for me.”
Is this a test?
Is he going to hurt me if I say the wrong thing?
The first words to tumble from my mouth are, “There’s blood on your neck.”
He rubs his fingers over the spot I’m looking at, but the blood doesn’t come off.
“I need a shower.” He smiles crookedly at me. “You do too. Want to wash up or eat first?”
He’s giving me a choice?
“I want to leave.”
Shadows cast over his features as he looks down at the rope in his hands and runs it through his fingers, making alarm bells ring in my head.Careful, he’s dangerous.
“I know.” His expression tightens as he looks back up at me. “Shower or dinner?”
There’s not really a choice. Still, I’m expected to play along. “Umm, dinner?” I reply, with confusion clear in my voice. At least with that option I can leave the room and look for a way out.
He holds his hand out for me to take, but I shuffle off the bed to the other side, putting some distance between us. My eyes never leaving him.
I must look like a rabid animal like this, all skittish and feral. My hair’s not been brushed since before I was taken and I’m sure the rest of me is just as unkempt.
There’s a wicked sparkle in his eyes as he watches me. I worry he’s going to make an attempt to grab me and tie me up. All he does is toss the rope over onto the chair and head toward the door.
I follow quickly behind him.
His outfit reminds me of the guards at the old house. All black tactical gear minus the mask. Could he be one of them and he’s taking me to meet my real owner? I don’t recognize his voice from any of the men that spoke to me in the basement.
As we walk through the house, I try to take in as much as I can, making a mental map of the layout. The floors are dark marble and cool under my bare feet. The rest of the decor matches the room I woke up in, making the whole place feel like some gothic mansion.
I don’t want to like any of it or be impressed, but I am.
It’s a vast difference from the oak paneling and worn floral carpets in the other house.
There’s no one else around, but from how clean the place is there must be a housekeeper.