Page 46 of Delivered to the Devil

I’m about to leave the comfy warmth of the bed when a deep, accented voice says, “I’ve called in sick for you.”

With the covers in my hand and one leg half out of bed, I pause. “Why?”

“You need to rest,” he simply says, sharp eyes honing in on me with deadly precision.

I hover, considering whether I should fight him on this. But I don’t want to, so I end up scooting back under the comforter, asking the question nagging at the corners of my mind.

“Why are you here?” It can’t just be to ensure I won’t break. That risk has been far greater on any given day during the past month. There’s another reason. Even as my shattered mind can’t tell reality from hopeful fantasy, I’m sure of it.

He doesn’t answer. He just keeps watching me with frightening intensity. There’s nothing discreet about those eyes. No polite restraint or slow build-up. They go straight for the kill—burning into my soul and taking everything they can find. I can’t hide anything, and I’ve stopped trying long ago.

But I still need to know if I’m right about what I suddenly feel very certain about after having doubted for so long. So I give it another go. “Is it because Gabor wants you here?”

His eyes narrow—the slightest tug at the corners. It’s barely noticeable, but I’m watching him as closely as he’s watching me, so it doesn’t escape me.

A shake of his head follows. Then he gets up and leaves.

My throat constricts as I watch his back like I’ve done so many mornings lately. Clutching the sheets, I blink my blurry eyes toward the ceiling. I expect him to leave, so when I hear sounds from the kitchen, a small hope sparks in the pit of mystomach. It wavers as measured steps approach, and I shut my eyes and hold my breath as I wait for my heart to break at the slam of the front door.

It never comes.

Instead, Janos’s strong presence fills the room, and a vibrant energy stirs within me as he bustles beside the bed. I don’t dare to open my eyes, afraid to find out I’ve finally lost my mind and no one is here.

“Sit up.”

I peel my eyes open, and a loud breath swooshes past my lips as I see him in the red chair. He’s right in front of the bed, holding a bowl of yogurt, fruit, and cereal.

He doesn’t need to ask twice. I push up to sit at the edge of the bed, my legs dangling between his parted thighs. Anticipation whirs inside me, and my fingers grab nervously at the comforter as my tongue darts out to wet my lips. His gaze follows the movement, and a flash of hunger darkens his eyes.

I stop breathing as I stare at him, like a prey facing the predator that has it cornered.

I expect him to pounce at any moment, but then his mouth twitches and falls back into a straight line of controlled impassiveness. “Don’t do that,” he simply says.

I can’t seem to close my mouth as my breath swooshes in and out, and my tongue darts over my lips again. It’s not on purpose—I swear. I just can’t help it.

“Rebecca.” My name is a stern warning on his lips as he grabs my jaw. “Don’t.”

Pressing my lips together, I nod. His fingers slowly fall away, and I almost consider licking my lips again to provoke another reaction. I don’t care if he’ll pin me to the bed, smack my ass, or grab my throat; I just want to feel him. But I can’t make myself disobey him as the warning keeps burning in his eyes. So I givein, letting my shoulders sag, and he breaks eye contact to dip the spoon into the yogurt and hold a big scoop up to my lips.

After having fed me the entire portion like this, Janos leaves the room again. I remain stiffly seated on the edge of the bed as I listen to him move around the apartment. I stare toward the hall, expecting to see him walk toward the front door and leave at any moment. But he never does. And when silence descends and I can’t stand the sound of my shallow breaths anymore, I get up and cross the hall to use the bathroom.

Cum drips from my ass when I sit on the bowl and relax. It’s the first time someone has come in that hole, and a strange combination of humiliation and desire washes through me. The shame of being raped in my most private opening is worse than any other degradation Gabor has forced upon me, but what happened last night was nothing like the first time Gabor took me there. I’m not sure it even classifies as rape. It wasn’t consensual either. It’s some strange place in between, and a depraved part of me wants to smile like a smitten teenager.

Suppressing the urge, I go to the sink and avoid the mirror as I wash my hands and brush my teeth. For a long time, I haven’t been able to look at my reflection, but as I put my toothbrush back in the cup, I find my eyes drifting up to face the woman staring back at me.

I barely recognize her.

The broad lines haven’t changed. It’s still the same shoulder-length dark hair that curls in pretty waves, the same green eyes that sparkle when the light falls at the right angle, and the same full lips I once used to coat with a sheen of lip gloss. Yet the person staring back at me is like a stranger—a once close friend who has become ravaged by harsh winds and weather. A worried look has settled deep in her eyes and drawn a perpetual line between her brows, and where she once looked somewhat reserved, she now looks timid and anxious.

At the same time, there’s a spark in those green eyes that makes them shine more vividly than they’ve done before. It’s a newly sparked desire that is burning from the inside with an eagerness to get out and live life to its fullest.

I thought my eyes would never regain their color.

Suddenly, the same yearning fills my body. I want something more. I don’t want to wither away here, spending the rest of my probably short life staring at white walls and pink curtains while I let three strangers tear me apart. I want everything I can possibly get out of life. I might not be able to get much, but I want it.

I wrap the expensive-looking terry robe around my body and, for the first time in weeks, I notice how soft it is. The tiny strands caress my body like a giant teddy bear hug.

I shouldn’t have anything this luxurious, a voice at the back of my head says.

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