Page 3 of Burning Truths

The light that enters his eyes shines back at my dull grey ones. He clasps his fingers with mine and slowly leads me to the door. Shifting slightly I allow myself to look over the empty room with a single chair in the center. The discoloration around the bottom of the chair is the only sign that I was here. Even when I leave the stain will remain. I’ve tainted this room, marked it with my presence, yet I’m the one scarred with the memory. I start toraise my hand to touch the collar, but stop myself short when I spot the remote in his other hand.

“Do you want to hurt me again?” I ask.

His step falters with the question, and for a split second I tense preparing for the electricity that never comes. Tossing a look over his shoulder he ignores me, and continues through the rundown building that I don’t recognize. The hope I had of leaving the room I was locked in, and suddenly knowing where I am, quickly vanishes. Nothing I see looks familiar. We make it down the hall halfway when he jerks to the left down a smaller hallway where a deep forest green door is at the end.

“I painted it your favorite color.” He says, a smile in his voice.

I don’t correct him when he says it, but my heart pinches when chocolate brown eyes float through my head. Green may have been my favorite color as a kid, but it hasn’t been for a long time. Letting myself come to this realization almost sends me over the edge, but I straighten my back, and continue forward. Ryker needs me stronger than I am right now. Shadow’s hand pauses over the door knob, twisting his head over his shoulder to look over to me. A sheepish look crosses over his face when he finally twists the metal.

Pushing the door open he moves to the side allowing me to fully take in the space. My throat constricts and the four walls surrounding me begin to close in, suffocating any hope I had of being set free. Creating a cage of nightmares right before my eyes. Everything spins, my eyes unable to focus on anything, though it’s my hands that won’t stop shaking. He steps in behind me, but I ignore the feel of his body against mine. I block out his hand moving my hair to the side, my mind shuts off as his lips touch my skin.

“It’s perfect just like you my sweet sweet Princessa.”

His mouth trails my neck, nipping, biting, and my entire being quakes with the need to escape. Self preservation kicks inand I bolt to the massive king size bed in a last ditch effort to get away from his invasive touch but it’s no use. Lightning licks down my back when the force of the collar shoots power into my body. A wail forces itself free from the overpowering pain causing my knees to buckle and slam into the floor.

I let my body crumble to the floor too weak to hold myself up anymore. The lack of food and water are nothing compared to the bone shattering pain coursing through me right now. Fuck, the voltage in this collar is going to kill me.

Maybe that’s for the best. The demons being held hostage will finally be set free, the chaos harboring inside me will rain down on my enemies and I can watch peacefully on the other side.Find me in the lilies.

I search for the lilies behind my eyelids. A garden with endless rows of color clouds my vision. Orange, red, white and black. My favorite stone bench taking residency in the center, awaiting my arrival with a new world to escape too. Within the paths I see him, stalking through the flowers and picking my favorite one. Our gazes clash and the mixture of brown eyes and blue skies combine with my flowers bring my breathing back down. Inhaling through my nose I repeat those words over and over until I can finally open my eyes.

Breathe through the pain, you can find me in the lilies.

I can feel him standing behind me but I don’t dare move. Not when I’m vulnerable here at his feet.

“Look what you made me do. I didn’t want to do that. You made me, Kenna. I had no choice!”

He’s frantic and angry so I curl in on myself. The sound of his shoes slapping against the floor echoes around me. The sound of the door slamming and locking has my shoulders slumping into the wood planks I’m laying on. I don’t know how long he’s gone or how long I laid there in my own filth but by the time he cameback to bring me a small glass of water I’d climbed in the bed and watched the door until my eyes grew heavy.

It wasn’t until my fingers trailed over Rykers name carved into my skin that I finally fell asleep.

Chapter Three

KENNA

The sound of running water wakes me from a restless sleep. Rolling over in the black silk sheets, my body stretches out and I almost forget where I am. That feeling you have right before you fully wake up, not quite asleep, but your mind is drowsy. That’s where I find myself forgetting where I am until the small details start to creep in. The smell of sweat and urine, the hollow sound of the room being too empty, but most importantly it’s the man standing at the foot of the bed.

Hank fucking Harlow. The man our fathers went to college with. The one man that my father trusted outside of Alec, yet here I was laying in a room that he designed. All in the name of trying to break me while my father sits behind bars for a crime he committed. The pictures on the wall make my stomach ache with disgust. It’s familiar in a way I wish it wasn’t. A replica of a room I was in recently and it’s the only reminder I have of the last time I laid with Ryker. The matching bed posts a constant reminder of the ones I held on to mere nights ago.

All four walls are plastered in photos of me, every inch of space covered in shade me. In my dorm, on campus, leaving the prison, in the cemetery. Zoomed in shots of me with Ryker in the garden on campus, but what startles me is seeing Rykersface. His entire face was removed from the picture altogether. My eyes skate across each one, avoiding the looming black hole threatening to swallow me whole. I pull myself up against the headboard, still avoiding the vacant dark eyes across the room, I take in my surroundings. Ryker’s bedroom, or the exact set up of it, is blanketed in snapshots of my life over the past few years. My bottom lips tremble when I come across photos of a younger me sitting in the Stone’s garden reading a book.

“How-?” I start, but my words trail off when I see it.

Wetting my lips, my gaze trails from the last photo, up to the man before me. His appearance is different today. His stubble is growing out as if he hasn’t shaved. The salt and pepper coloring has shifted into a slightly darker color unnaturally. Shaking off the observation, I look away to keep from giving him the wrong idea when my eyes fall on a small stack of clothes at the end of the bed.

I stare at them for a few moments before he leans down to place the palms of his hand on the bed. The mattress dips from the weight, but I keep my focus trained on the threat ahead of me. The searing heat of his stare scorches my skin, making me want to peel it off me. Hunger and greed fight for dominance behind the mask he wears, but he doesn’t wear it well. I can see right through it to the devil inside.

“I brought you some clothes to change into. The shower’s waiting for you, Princessa.”

He motions with his hand to the door off to the right corner of the room. The need to feel clean wars with the need to prevent being vulnerable around him. I’ve seen what he can do when upset, but I know that’s just the surface of his capabilities. With one last look around the room I make the mental note that he isn’t just obsessed with me, but Ryker as well.

“Thank you.” I say, my voice raw.

The attempt at a smile must work because he steps back with a wild grin. It takes fucking effort to keep my arms steady as I crawl from the center of the bed. The only thing I find myself thankful for is his distaste for urine because that’s the only reason he hasn’t ripped my pants off. For fucks sake I’m almost disgusted with myself, but I shove that thought from my mind only to replace it with Ryker. Where is he? Is he too distracted with burying Cole to realize that I’m gone? Does he even care after what his brother did? If he doesn’t blame me, I sure as fuck do.

Bringing my legs forward, they dangle off the side of the bed, my ass firmly placed on the edge while I try to get my bearings. My hands tremble from the lack of food, my stomach rumbles with hunger as I spot a small cream colored plate on the nightstand. Sitting in the center of the palm sized plate is a sandwich. Nothing special, nothing extra, just a single square filled with something unknown. My stomach lets out another gurgle that has my cheeks turning red.

“I brought you a little gift, but first I want you to shower and eat. Once you're done, knock on the door and I’ll bring you a little surprise.”

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