“Then put it on there. I’ll do the pineapple and jalapenos, too. Sounds great.” Flashing her white teeth, the incisors longer than the others, she sets to work creating art with the food on her sauced dough.
“Do you bring all your girlfriends here to do this?”
“Nah, just my whores,” I say with a smirk.
Her fingers pause, and she glances at me, then closes her mouth, her lips tugging up despite the muscles trying to fight it. “And how many ofthosedo you have, Mr. Von Dovish?”
Taking a floured finger, I tap the end of her freckled nose, the urge to touch her stronger than ever. “Just the one.”
“So, youwerelistening, then.” With a pat of the terry towel, she swipes the white dust from her nose before sprinkling cheese on top of her board, hand arched high in the air, letting each chunk fall slowly onto the dough.
“I’m always listening.” Shoving my board into the open brick oven, I ask with a tilt of my head if she’s ready for me to put hers inside. She nods. “We can have wine while we wait.” Uncorking a bottle, I pour us each a glass at the sink, then hand her one with a swirl.
“Thank you.” A small sip on the rim imprints her lips against the glass. “Mmm, this is good!”
“It’s from our vineyard. The cellar is full of our own wines. Oh, speaking of, after dinner, I wanted to show you the grow room. It’s my personal grow room. No one is allowed down there, but my date gets an exception.”
Her eyes glass over and widen. If I couldseeher heart in her chest, I’d swear it stopped beating. “Oh.Um. Okay…” She chugs her wine without tasting it. “Can I have a refill?”
“Sure.” Filling her glass to the brim, I turn around and she’s gone. Orheris gone. That fake, boring character has replaced her with a plastic smile. Like the end of the Allegro, now we enter Andante. The grips at the corners of her lips don’t reach her eyes.
Handing her the stem, she takes another sip while eyeing me coyly, fluttering her lashes wildly. Purposefully. My dick softens.
Once the pizzas are done, we eat at the kitchen counter, me supplying my date with more wine. She’s loose now, cheeks flushed maroon behind the freckled skin. Her fingers tickle up my shoulder, flirting with me, as she huffs loud laughs at everything I say and even at things I don’t.
My rage grows with presto as every moment passes. Hurriedly swallowing my pizza, I don’t even taste it, and I glance at her barely touched plate. Wiping my mouth with the cloth napkin, I stand up, shoving my dishes away. It’s time.
“Let me show you the grow room now.” Clutching her hand, I help her to a steady stand, but even with sneakers on, she wobbles.
“B-but what about the movie?” Her words are slurred.
“We’ll do that later. This is more important.” Moving toward the back stairs, she begins to dig her heels in, resisting my pull. “Let’s go,Jane.”
“I-I don’t want to. Calum, please. I-I can’t.”
As I practically tug her down the stairs, she trips andfalls into my arms. Catching her, I carry her the rest of the way, then set her feet on the ground.
Narrowing my eyes, I scold her. “You need to see this.”
Her breathing comes out in shallow huffs as we walk through the narrow stone hall. By the time we reach the third door on the left, she grips her arms and lets the nails dig in deeply. The terror she’s experiencing is edible. I love it. Tastiest meal I’ve had in a long time. Let me eat away your dark soul, puppet.
Before she can run away, I sidestep to stand behind her and fling the door open for her with a flourish, pressing my palm into the lower half of her back to give her a small push inside.
Her screams ring out like Mozart, the melody singing against the stones when our guest tries to peek his head up to greet us.
“This is what happens to any man who touches what’s mine.” Stroking a finger along her frozen cheek, I tell her tenderly, “And you’re mine, puppet.”
Nineteen
JANE
Thick, naked fat rolls dribble over his crotch, covering his short dick while his normally greasy hair is now plastered to his scalp caked with dirt. Gone are the glasses, his face appearing wan and ashen. His eyes are sunken and barely hold tears as he looks past me when we enter the room. The skin on his knees has rubbed so raw, they are bloody pulps of scratched flesh, as is that surrounding both wrists. Various complicated ropes hold his ankles and arms behind him to the wall, but his position is such that he leans forward on his knees at an angle toward a table sitting in front of him.
Only a few days ago, I had sucked his tiny, stinky dick. Cal expected that when telling me to do whatever it took to get his supply, so I did. I performed my duty like always, but the horrible realization that it was a test makes my stomach churn, as does the smell of urine and feces emanating throughout the room. A dried crust of saliva meets the corners of Larry’s mouth, and histongue looks like sandpaper as he tries to stick it out to speak. His voice is gone. Cal must have him locked up for the last few days without any food or water.
More terrifying than anything is what lies in front of the man. Set up like an afternoon tea is a fancy China plate filled with odd mushrooms I have never seen before. Larry can lean forward enough with his bindings to settle his mouth on the plate and eat them, but for some reason, he hasn’t.
Cal stands behind me, his hands gripping both of my arms as I start to feel heavy in my feet, drunk on the wine and intoxicated by terror. “Are you hungry, Larry?”