Page 19 of Creep
8
Vincent
I pace the kitchen,wearing a path into the floor. I run my hands through my hair, yanking the strands and ripping some out.What the fuck just happened?I fucking kissed her. I have never kissed another person before in my life, but I just kissedher. And I liked it.
No, scratch that, I fuckinglovedit.But I hate the little bitch and I want to hurt her. I need to hurt her. To wrap my hands around her throat and squeeze until she’s blue and cold and no longer running that little mouth of hers.
But those plump lips, cracked and bleeding against mine felt like fucking nirvana. The taste of her blood still rests on my tongue. Seeing her bleeding in the bathroom after she ripped her arms open was one thing, but the second I tasted her blood, I knew shit just got more complicated.
One taste and I was fucking done for. There is something about her that’s intoxicating me. It’s almost like her blood is my own personal drug, specifically designed to fucking consume me.
Thinking about her, I run my tongue along my lips, savoring the taste of her because I can’t let myself lose control like that again. She needs to know who the fuck is in charge, and I can’t let her get confused by thinking her pussy has any effect on me. She’s just a toy who needs to learn her fucking place.
If I would’ve used that ball gag to begin with, then this is something I wouldn’t have to worry about right now.
I halt my pacing and take a seat on the stool at the kitchen island. I run my finger over my lips, unable to stop thinking about her and it’s driving me fucking insane. I wish I knew what the hell it was about this girl which has me breaking my own rules. I only met her for the first time yesterday, less than twenty four hours ago,andshe’s been unconscious most of the time—not like it stopped me from watching her.
I’m fascinated by her in ways I truly wish I wasn’t. I mean, sure, women have held my interest before, but only long enough for me to stick my dick in them to come, and then call it a day while kicking them out of the door. Occasionally, I’ll have a slave around for a month or so to play with, but it’s been occurring less and less recently because even they aren't holding my attention anymore. I’ve been utterly fucking bored, or at least I was until Essa showed up in my life. Now, I’m just annoyed and slightly obsessed with a bratty eighteen year old who is about to graduate from high school.
This girl should have never piqued my interest. I’m a fucking twenty-four year old man, but the second I laid my eyes on her, something happened.My pain felt her pain and the monsters in us began to merge. The pain that is blatantly clear in her eyes is consuming me. That’s not even mentioning the bruises covering her entire body, bruises I know aren’t from me. Something’s been happening to her and I’m going to find out what…
But enough of that shit. Shaking thoughts of her away, I get my head back in the game. It doesn’t matter what this girl does to me, she’s a fucking payment. Strictly a payment who needs to learn her fucking place.
Her piece of shit parents have been buying from me for years, therefore their debt has drastically built frommanyskipped payments. The money I wasn’t receiving from them wasn’t enough to put a dent in my future plans so I never paid it much mind—it was just fun to fuck with them. Tweakers are always so paranoid. They did pay me a little here and there, but they owe me way more than they could ever repay.
Hence, Essa.
A few weeks ago, Ben came to the pub and was waiting for me to get him his eight ball, which was his usual order. He started blabbing about his daughter, clearly already high out of his mind. Only half listening, I heard him say some shit like she was a waste of space, always in the fucking way, blah, blah.
I then tuned him out like I always do but then he jumped off of the stool he was barely managing to sit still on and randomly shouted about Essa not being his biological daughter and he hated her, so he made sure she knew it.
Thinking about him putting his disgusting hands on her in any way sends rage boiling through my blood. Ironic, considering I have her tied to my bed and crying right now, but I never said I wasn’t a hypocrite. I want to be the only one to make her bleed, to make her cry, and to bring her pain. Ineedto be the only one.
Speaking of, her pathetic little attempt at hurting herself is quite amusing. I wonder what she’s been going through that makes her want to do it. She obviously wants or even needs to feel pain to feel better, to center the bullshit she is going through. Something I understand all too well.
Exhaustion hits me like a punch to the face. I look over to the clock on the wall and see it's already after three a.m. I scoot the stool back and it scrapes against the floor. It creates a terrible screech, which actually makes me wince.
I walk into my bedroom and decide to shower then grab a quick nap before dealing with Essa and her bullshit. The little bitch is fucking exhausting. I walk into the bathroom, quickly strip my clothes, and step into the shower. I reach down and turn the nob all the way to hot, letting the ice cold water run over me until it warms up.
* * *
Later that day,I’m standing in front of my bathroom mirror straightening my tie when I hear a loud banging against the wall. Rolling my eyes, I take one last glance, making sure it’s straight and then make my way to Essa’s room. The little brat is probably annoyed. I left her tied up and alone all day. No food or even water because I didn’t have the energy to deal with her. I still fucking don’t, but it's three o’clock and her graduation starts at five so we have to get moving. I don’t understand why there is a graduation at five in the evening, but whatever. The sooner we get it over with, the better.
I push her door open and step inside and see Essa curled up along the edge of the bed. Probably to stay off of her ass because it’s still glowing a beautiful red and the welt are still raised against her skin. When she notices my entrance, she scoots herself into a sitting position, wincing when her ass touches the bed. She tilts her head up to meet my gaze, her eyes simmering with indignation.
“Watch those eyes, baby doll. You know how your defiance turns me on.” I wink and she ignores me, continuing to glare, unperturbed by my comment.Someone must have gained some confidence throughout an entire day of being left alone.
“You feel like telling me why the hell you have left me in here all damn day? I have to piss really fucking bad so could youpleaseuntie me so I can use the bathroom.” Sarcasm is dripping from her voice, but I ignore it, for now, only because we don't have the time for me to beat her ass right now.
I reach into my pocket to grab the knife I always carry on me. Slipping it in between her mutilated wrists and the rope covering them, I work it back and forth a few times until it frays and the knife slips through, releasing her. She rubs her wrists, attempting to bring life back into them. I pocket my knife again and step back.
“Your graduation is in two hours, you need to get ready. Your bag is in the bathroom.” I turn around and leave the room before I can hear her response.
* * *
I’m standingin the kitchen, leaning against the counter waiting for her, when she finally walks into the kitchen. She stops a few feet in front of me and stands, staring out the window while twisting her fingers, her nervous habit coming out again.
Damn, she looks good.
