Page 67 of By Sin To Atone

“I’m really cold. And I need to use the bathroom,” she says, trying to sound defiant but I see how her lower lip is trembling, how her eyes are filling up, the skin around them already pink. She is at my mercy. She is more mine than she can possibly understand. That twisting in my gut is back at the sight of her like this.

Helpless.

Defenseless.

The man I’ve become over the years is a cold, wretched thing, a beast. Maybe it’s the last shred of anything human inside me, anything that feels, but seeing her like this softens me. With a sigh, I reach to unhook the chain from her collar. When I do, I expect her to scurry away, but she doesn’t. She remains as she is looking at me. Is she waiting for permission?

“I’m running a bath for you in the other room. Come.” I hold out my hand.

She doesn’t move.

“Come Blue. It will be more comfortable for you.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would you care if something is more comfortable for me?”

“Honestly?” I push my hand through my hair. “I have no fucking idea, but I do.”

She studies me and I find I can’t look at her. Instead, I gather up the throw draped over the arm of a chair and hold it out for her. She gets up, and I see the blood that’s dried on her thighs. She steps into the blanket, and I wrap it around her shoulders. She shivers as I lead her out to the room next door and when we reach the bathroom, the tub is half full. I sit on the edge to test the water again before standing and offering her a hand.

She ignores it and gets in on her own, discarding the blanket, her back to me. Her ass still bears the imprint of my hand. I don’t miss her hiss when she sits and watch the water turn pink as she rubs blood off her thighs.

Seeing this, her like this? Well, I am exactly the asshole she accuses me of being.

“I should have been gentler. I hurt you. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Yeah, you did. You wanted to punish me, to show me that you are in control, and you did. At least be honest about it.”

“That’s not...” I trail off, dropping it. I remind myself she’s keeping secrets from me. Playing me for a fool. “Where’s the money from?”

“The apartment. I kept it separate of the rest in case anyone ever broke in. Never put all your eggs in one basket.” From behind I see her wipe her face. She’s crying. Again.

“At the restaurant why did you run?” Because I don’t like how I felt about her running. Because in some way, maybe I thought, well, fuck. Who the fuck knows what I thought? My brain is fucking broken and I’m not making any fucking sense, not when it comes to Blue.

She glances over her shoulder at me, shakes her head then turns back, picking up the bottle of body wash and squeezing some onto her hands to wash herself. She looks, in a word, defeated.

This is not what I want.

I cross the room to sit on the edge of the tub and take the body wash. She only resists momentarily but gives it up. I pour some onto my hands and begin to wash her, taking care with her, feeling her soft, vulnerable flesh beneath my hands.

She remains silent as I finish washing her. She looks up at me when I hold out my hand, palm up, and takes it, letting me help her out of the tub. Water cascades over her skin before I wrap her in a towel and turn her to face me, holding onto her.

“Tell me why you ran.”

“Do you just expect me not to try? To just be your puppet, do what you say?”

“We have an arrangement.”

“You have an arrangement. I have no choice.”

“I told you?—”

“Do you think that I don’t know what you can do to me?” she snaps. “Do you think I’m not fully aware you could twist my neck and the effort wouldn’t even make you break a sweat? You could then dump my body somewhere on the grounds here, hell, you don’t even have to bury me it’s so vast. And who would come looking for me? No one. No one would know. No one would care. Well, one person would. But she can’t come looking, can she? And tell me something else. Say that happens…” Emotion makes her falter.

“It’s not going to.”

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