Page 3 of Dirty Behavior

The tears could wait till I was alone, I was stronger than that. He wasn't going to see me cry, I refused to let him think he was taking hold of me in any way.

“You're father's a good man, Ivy, he made the right choice. But let me warn you now. . .” Pausing, he inhaled a deep breath, taking the time to lick his lips slowly. “If you try to run, if you so much as even think about it. . .” Leaning over me, his mouth hovered just above my ear. “I will kill them all. Your little sister, your mother, I'll do them first, and I'll let your father watch as they take their last breaths and their eyes glaze over like a frozen lake. Then I'll kill him too.”

A gasp hit my lips, my heart stopping inside my chest. Laying one finger on my thigh, Remo drew long and slow circles. “Either way, you'll still be mine.”

“Fuck you.” Slapping his hand off my leg, I pounced to my feet. The floor was ice cold, the light fingers of the wood tickled my toes with tiny talons of frost. “You're lying! You stole me! My father wouldn't sell me, he would never give me to a piece of shit like you!”

Puffing my chest, my lungs were strangled by rage. I couldn't breathe, my eyes were engorged and popping from my head. Balling my fists, I stepped into him.

He could try and convince me all he wanted to. But I knew deep down that my father would never willingly leave me with this man.

My father loves me.

The smile that plagued his face sucked the world out from beneath my feet. His tongue slicked his lips, glazing them in sin. “You, Love, have just broken rule one again. I can't let this go, you need to learn a lesson. Obviously you don't respect the rules. . .” His hand came in fast and snagged my wrist. “Which means you don't respect me, but you will, you'll learn quick.”

“Let me go!” Trying to break free, Remo pulled me towards a door to the side. “Let me go!” I screamed, dropping to the floor as my feet slipped and my knees buckled with his strength.

I tried like hell to stop him. My toes angrily scratched the wood looking for even the slightest piece to cling to. Clawing at his arm, I screamed at the top of my lungs, hoping someone would hear me.

But nothing. No one came for me, no one burst through the door to help me.

Stalking to the door, he tore it open. “This is your punishment, this is your fault, Ivy, not mine.” Throwing me into the small room, he slammed the door shut and locked it before I even had the time to get back up. Speaking through the wood, Remo said, “I'm going easy on you because I can see that this is hard for you to swallow. But eat it you will, Love.”

Jumping to my feet, I pounded my fists against the wood. “Let me go! Fuck you! Let me go!” But I was met with silence. Remo didn't answer.

Flopping to my knees, my hands fell lifelessly into my lap.

What the fuck is going on?

What do I do?

The room was pitch black except for the faint glow slipping in from the crack under the door. My mind was in a state of shock. This couldn't be happening.

But it was.

Another surge of adrenaline coursed through my body as I thought about how horrible my family must feel. They were probably out looking for me, searching for me. This couldn't last long, Remo wouldn't be able to hold me here forever.

I was getting out.

Standing, I started to feel around the walls inside the small space. The room was no bigger than a closet, a closet that he turned into a holding chamber.

There were no switches, no shelves, just drywall.

Fuck!

There wasn't even a handle on the inside of the door. I had no way out, I was caught in a seamless world. But when he came for me, Iwouldbe ready.

I wasn't weak.

I was a girl raised on a farm, I had gotten my hands dirty on more then one occasion. I'd shoveled shit, baled hay; Fuck, I had even been kicked by one of our cows, I wasn't breakable.

I could take Remo.

Standing against the back wall, I waited. And I didn't care how long I had to stand there, I wasn't going to let down my guard. Remo would come for me, and he would get my fucking foot in his face.

Time seemed to tick by inside my head. My internal clock dinging every sixty seconds to alert me that another minute had passed, another hour had slipped away. By my clock, I was on hour three.

Counting the numbers inside my head, I finally heard a rustle from outside the door. Leaping forward, I pressed my ear to the wood and listened.

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