Page 181 of Rage

His mouth falls open at my words, and his eyes look like a deer in headlights. The sight of him is making me sick to my stomach. Part of me wants to pound my fists into his face until I see puddles of red.

Snapping out of the vision playing in my head, I vaguely question my sanity before focusing on the man I agreed to marry in a few short months. “Fuck you, and your ego. I deserve better than this,” I spit, before I slam the door shut, apologizing to the driver, and giving him my address as he pulls out into the heavy Friday night traffic.

Chapter Five

The taxi drops me off at home for double the price an Uber would’ve cost me, but it was worth every penny. If I had to deal with one more second of that mommy and son duo, I was going to set my dinner fork upright, aim it at my eye, and slam my head on the table.

I reach my front door, fumbling around in my purse for my keys, and dread begins to set in when I don’t find them after thirty seconds of searching. I squat down on my porch and frantically check for the keys as I watch the taxi driver pull away.

“No, no, no, no,” I whisper to myself as the darkness closes in. My hair unravels from its bun, and dark curls fall into my eyes. I dump the contents of my purse out onto the ground in pure hope that I see my keys amongst the extra tissues, lipstick, mascara, and other things.

“Who are you talking to out here, Duchess?” a male voice inquires, causing me to stumble forward before two large hands grip my shoulders from behind and steady me.

“Please, I’ll write you a check. I have three hundred dollars in cash as well. Just please, don’t… Please don’t hurt me. I didn’t call the cops. I’ll forget it ever happened,” I plead as I fight back the forming tears.

I hear him tsk from behind me as he squats down and whispers in my ear, “That’s a shame. I don’t want to forget any of it, especially the feeling of you squirming beneath me with my knife pressed to your throat.”

My body goes rigid as his hand comes around, holding out a key ring in front of me—my houseandcar key.

Duplicates.

My mouth goes dry at the sight.

Slowly, he stands and holds his hand out to me. The left side of my brain tells me to scream for help while the right side tells me to place my hand in his, allowing him to help me stand. I force myself to look at him, but I’m met with his chest. He has to be over six-three against my five-foot-five-inch height. My eyes trail upward until they meet his, behind the mask. We stare at each other for a moment before he quickly unlocks the door, pulls me inside, and disarms my alarm.

MY alarm.

The fact that he knows my passcode sends chills down my spine.

“Upstairs. Now.”

His command has me frozen in place, knowing my bed is upstairs.

“Please, Duchess,” he adds softly.

My legs begin to shuffle toward the stairs and I lean down to kick off my shoes, but instead I’m met by him kneeling to remove them for me. I’m stunned at the sight until he's removed them, and he has to instruct me to keep moving, to walk up the stairs. Once I make it up, I just stand in the hallway until he tells me what he wants.

“Bathroom.”

I draw in a shaky breath—the only bathroom up here is connected to my bedroom. I walk until I reach the correct room and nervously hand-fuck the wall until I find the light switch. Ifeel his hand on my shoulder, leading me to the bed, and my lips tremble with fear.

“Sit here,” he says before going into the bathroom. I hear rustling, then the knob of the tub turning and water flowing. A few minutes go by before he comes back out and instructs me to go in the bathroom, get undressed, and get in the tub with the water still running.

I can see piles of bubbles from the bubble bath I keep on the ledge, and my body begins to tremble as I peel my dress off, followed by my bra and underwear. Afraid he’s watching me, I quickly step into the tub and slide down into the perfectly heated water.

“Are you in?” he calls from the other room, and I answer.

He saunters in with his hands in the pockets of the same black sweatsuit he wore earlier. “If you don’t want me to touch you, I won’t.”

His husky voice hurls me into a whirlwind, his scent of musk and pine sending me into overdrive as I squeeze my legs together underneath the water.Who have I turned into? A masked man I don’t know has me naked in a bathtub and is asking for permission to touch me.He grabs a washcloth and liquid soap from nearby, holding them up while waiting for my approval. I swallow before I make my decision. It has been months since Ross last touched me intimately, and I’m about to let a stranger give me a bath.

Is this considered cheating? People in hospitals get sponge baths all the time, so this can’t be considered cheating after the night I’ve had.

I gaze at his hands, and the size of them has my mouth popping open as I imagine them wrapped around my neck, choking me until the edges of my vision become black.

“Duchess?” he asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I nod my head.

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