Page 69 of Deadmen's Captive

I picked up my phone and texted him.

What are you going to make me do tomorrow night?

The reply came back almost immediately.

Nothing you haven’t done before.

Slightly reassured, I laid the phone on the bed. I knew it was only a matter of time before I would have to go all the way with one of them, but although I wasn't as sentimental about it as some people, I didn’t want to have to do it in front of everyone. Would Bast let us do that part in private? I hoped so.

With my thoughts threatening to spiral, I got up and went to have a shower. The water was actually hot for once, steam curling up from the drain and fogging the mirror. I stepped in, letting the water cascade over my body, washing away the remnants of Bast's touch. It felt oddly symbolic, like I was trying to cleanse myself of something more than just his cum. He was way too charming, and persuasive, but in the space that remained when he left, it was my mother’s words that kept coming back to me.

Whore. Slut. Worthless little bitch.

I scrubbed hard, trying to wash away not just the sticky remnants of our encounter but also the lingering shame and guilt that came with it. It was no use though. They clung to me like a second skin, a constant reminder of what I had agreed to do for the next year. What had I done? I couldn’t take it back now. They’d given me every chance to say no, and I’d accepted this indecent proposal anyway, swayed by three seductive men who made my heart race. My mother was right, I was just a little slut.

Shame and hatred flowed through me, like black ink in water, turning everything that had felt clear, dark and murky. Tears began to fall, as my mother’s voice spoke in my head.

Stupid little whore, opening her legs as soon as you got any attention, they don’t really like you, you know. You’re just a body to them, just a pussy to stick their cocks into. Why would they like you? You’re boring and stupid and worthless….

“Shut up!” I cried out, sinking down onto the shower floor. I sobbed, the sound echoing painfully through the tile and steam, but the voice never went away, bertating me, shaming me, making me force the truths I liked to hide from. The truth about my pathetic, worthless existence. I would never ever be good enough, and I’d never escape her.

I stayed there on the shower floor, my skin pruned, my eyes swollen with tears. My throat was sore, my head ached from crying and I felt like a ragged, used doll. The water continued to fall, washing down my body, removing all physical traces of Bast, but it couldn't cleanse me of the filth in my soul. I lay there, chilled to the bone and utterly numb inside. This was reality now. This was the bed I had made.

Pulling myself up, I wrapped myself in a towel and stumbled to my bed, collapsing onto it. The room spun as I closed my eyes, the weight of everything pressing down on me and making it hard to breathe.

A soft noise at the door had me pushing myself up and looking round. It went quiet, and it took me a moment, but then I saw it. Another red envelope. I went even colder. For a few minutes, I just sat there, looking at it, as though I could make it vanish with my thoughts. Eventually though, I knew I had to face it.

I got up from the bed, wrapping my towel tightly around me, and picked it up. Taking a deep breath, I opened it, unfolding the paper inside. It was typed as always, with no way of telling who it was from.

I saw you, Paige. I watched you giving yourself to him like some cheap plaything. How could you degrade yourself with such filth?

He doesn't love you. He's just using you, and you're too blind to see it. You disgust me now, letting him defile you. But don't worry—I won't let him tarnish you any longer.

You need saving, Paige, whether you realise it or not. And I’m the only one who can do it. I will end this, end him, if I must. For us.

Shit. I folded it back up and stuffed it back in the envelope, ice wrapping around my heart. Slowly, I crossed the room and opened my desk drawer, adding it to the bundle of red envelopes inside. What could I do? University security didn’t believe me, and the police just thought it was a prank. Should I tell Bast? It did threaten him after all, but then he’d threatened Tristan too and nothing came of that. Tristan was fine, except that stomach bug. No, I decided. I wouldn't tell Bast, he’d made it very clear that this was a business arrangement and nothing more. I wouldn’t tell Kate either, she’d just worry. No, I needed to fix this myself. I just wasn’t sure how.

I felt sick at the thought. This person, whoever it was, had clearly just watched Bast and me… together. He must have been standing outside, watching through the window. I looked outside, but there was nothing to see, just the trees that surrounded the university complex. He must have hidden in them. I studied them carefully. Was he still there? I didn’t see anything, but I couldn’t be sure. I grabbed the strings for the blind and yanked them down, closing the blind completely. How many times had he stood there watching me? I shivered.

At least this had ruled out Bast. Which just left Nate. Could it be him? My silent rescuer? I just couldn’t see it, and there was always the chance it was someone I didn’t even know. I wasn’t sure what was scarier.

Still shaking, I got dressed as quickly as I could and went out. I needed to be away from the apartment, far from prying eyes. My heart pounded against my ribs in a steady rhythm of fear as I walked aimlessly around the university grounds. Was he watching me now? Following me everywhere? Surely he had to eat and sleep though, he couldn’t be there all the time.

I pushed open the door of the mini supermarket. I didn't have much money left, but I had a little, I was really craving the comfort of chocolate. I grabbed a bar from the shelf, and headed to the till, but something caught my eye and I hesitated only a moment before taking it too.

The shop assistant was a friendly undergrad with brown hair and green framed glasses, and she chatted to me as she scanned the items. I nodded and smiled, uttering polite responses when it was called for, but my mind was elsewhere. The fear had ebbed away slightly, replaced by a burning anger. How dare he? How dare he invade my privacy, make me feel unsafe in my own home, make me question every shadow and noise?

I paid for my items, and headed towards the door. Pausing, I turned and slipped down one of the aisles, out of sight from the door. With shaking hands, I pulled out the five inch kitchen knife I’d just bought, and opened the packaging. I left the packaging in the carrier bag, but slipped the knife into the pocket of my jacket. This guy might be completely harmless, but he might not, and I was not going to let him scare me any longer. If he came for me, I was going to put up a damn good fight.

Chapter Thirty

UNKNOWN

Hidden by the trees outside your bedroom window, I can only watch as that man put his hands on your body. I can’t believe it, Paige. The playboy was bad enough, but now his friend too? I am heartbroken. I thought you were perfect, Paige, but you’re fast becoming just another little slut.

My hands trembled as I clenched them into fists, the nails digging painfully into my palms. I watched him lay you down, your golden hair spread out like a halo, and then… oh God, Paige, I watched you touch yourself. For a few minutes, I forgot he was even there. I wonder if you did too. I think you forgot he was there, Paige, and that you were touching yourself for my benefit. I watched your fingers sliding into your cunt and imagined the noises you were making. I fucked my hand watching you, Paige. If you want to be treated like a whore, then I can do that. I can make you scream my name in pleasure, just as easily as I can make you cry out in pain.

But then he touched you, Paige. His filthy hands on your soft, sweet skin. I felt a sharp pain in my chest as if someone stabbed me there. It took every ounce of strength in me not to burst through the window and rip his hands off you.

---