Page 48 of Wicked Games

And my little cramped flat with its twin bed, lumpy mattress, and shared bathroom with its view of the dumpsters from the building across the way was nothing compared to literally living on the set of a period drama, only better.

Then there was Richard.

That was certainly where things became the most complicated.

I hated and despised the man. His arrogance. His cruelty. The fact that he not only kidnapped and held me captive in this world for his own amusement but had actually made me compare it to my true life and find the former lacking made me want to scratch his eyes out.

I hated him. I especially hated how he touched me like he owned me. How he made my body respond to both the pleasure and pain he inflicted. Made my body crave it.

I hated how he made any other guy I’d dated seem weak and shallow compared to the brutality of his masculinity. It was a force, a palatable energy every time he was near me. The air cracked with it. With the knowledge that in this world he was lord and master. In this world, there was no political correctness or feminism or girl power, or equal rights. There wasn’t even no means no.

There was bend over, I’m fucking you whether you like it or not, because I want to and I’ll make you want it too.

And damn him, he’s right.

He does make me want it.

My breath came in quick gasps as I remembered all our heated exchanges. How each and every one ended with him tearing at my clothes and forcing himself on me one way or another. I remembered the unholy gleam in his eyes as he pushed the handle of his riding crop into my ass. They were lit with a dark promise that soon, it wouldn’t just be the handle.

He was a man who took what he wanted with no apologies. Literally.

Wrapping my arms around my middle as I waited for the attendants to finish arranging my hair, all I really wanted to do was curl in a ball under some covers and never come out.

All of this was just too much. I didn’t want to think about any of it anymore but no, that was his trap. That was what he wanted. To wear me down, to break me. To get me to the point where all I wanted to do was feel and no longer be burdened with these chaotic and confusing thoughts. It would be so easy to give in… to allow myself to be pulled into the darkness… to every sick pleasure and luxury he dangled before me.

To fall in love with him.

I had to keep fighting. It was the only way to keep my sanity. Or I could see, given time, all my memories of my real life would slowly be stripped from me and I truly would become the dutiful Victorian ward of the Duke of Winterbourne in every respect.

There was an attendant holding onto each arm and one before me and from the sounds of shuffling feet, another behind me as we slowly made our way down a narrow hallway. I couldn’t help but think of those death marches you see on television of the prisoner being led to the electric chair. Like with the press scenes, there was screaming by the other inmates and the clatter and clamor that comes with being surrounded by those with broken minds. All I was missing was the priest.

Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil…

Just then, Richard stepped into focus a little further down the hall.

My whole body began to quake. I actually started to drag my feet and pull on the hands restraining me. “Please. Please just take me back to my room,” I begged. I know I needed to keep fighting; I just didn’t have the strength to face him or his anger just yet.

“I’m sorry, my lady, but His Grace has requested your presence,” said the attendant who helped brush my hair as she gave my arm a sympathetic pat.

“I don’t know what she’s complaining about. I’d follow that man to hell and back,” quipped the other.

“Dolores!”

“What? He’s fucking hot and rich! And look at all the crazy things he’s willing to do to impress this chick!”

Someone cleared their throat and each of them all exchanged worried looks. I watched as the attendant keeping the pace in front of me suddenly raised their hand to their right ear. They then quickly turned and without saying a word, grabbed Dolores by the arm and hauled her into the very first room we passed. The person behind me smoothly moved into her place and grabbed my upper arm.

My unease increased. Something had just happened there. Something important. Dolores had just said something she wasn’t supposed to.

Look at all the crazy things he’s willing to do.

Everyone ready. And action.

More evidence that none of this was real.

It was all just a game.

Just a game.

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