Page 23 of Creep
I crave that type of love, that type of loyalty and Ineedthat type of freedom. Sure, I have Holley and I know she loves me and would do anything for me, but let’s be honest. Throughout all of the bullshit of our lives, she was kept in the dark about most of it—about basically fucking all of it. She hasn’t a single fucking clue as to what has ever really gone on because I’ve always protected her from it all. Fighting with not only Ben, but myself too, because it was my choice to keep her out of it, but it doesn’t mean it hurts any less.
When it comes down to it, I’m the only one who would die for her. Which I do, every single fucking day of my existence. Every day I’m breathing, every day my heart keeps on beating, I’m dying for her.
I take a deep breath and look to the front door. Vincent’s standing right inside the threshold, staring at me and waiting for me to follow him into the house. He tilts his head to the side in question, but doesn’t say a word. I glance back at the trees and launch myself towards them.
I take off running, my legs already burning from the exertion. I have no fucking idea what I am doing. All I know is it feels good to run, to feelfree. The breeze rushes past my face as I pick up my pace, pushing my converse covered feet harder into the ground.
Once I make it to the thick foliage, a tree with deep red stains catches my eye because it sticks out like a sore thumb, even in this darkness. My steps falter, but I don’t dare stop.Curiosity killed the cat and all that nonsense.My heart pounds against my ribcage. I feel like a wolf, running to catch their prey, only in my instance, I’m the prey runningfromthe predator.
In the thick of the trees, it’s harder to make out where I’m going. Their thick branches keep the moonlight from penetrating completely and I have to slow my pace or risk running smack into a fucking tree trunk. My chest is heaving and my lungs are screaming at me to slow down, but I can’t. I’ve already made it this far.
I didn’t know my intention when I took off, but now I’m out here, I know I have to fucking escape. I have to leave and find Holley. Once I’m with her, I can figure out where to go from there. But first things first, actually making it out of these fucking trees.
I dodge a few low hanging branches, keeping my pace steady. I don’t even think to listen for the sound of footsteps—a grave mistake on my part—because without warning, my body is shoved forward and I nosedive to the ground. I let out a scream as my face hits the dirt, inhaling it in the process. Hands wrap around my upper arms as a knee digs into my spine. I cry out and I try to scream at him to let me up, but he’s pushing me so far into the ground, I can’t lift my head enough to speak. He leans down over me, his knee digging into my spine further.
“You think you can run away from me, baby doll? I know these woods like the back of my fucking hand. Where exactly did you think you would be able to run to out here, hm? ” His voice almost a whisper, caressing along my skin and igniting chills, but I’m not fooled by the soft tone of his voice. He shifts his knee against my back, alleviating enough of the pressure I can speak.
I croak, spitting dirt from my mouth. “I wasn’t trying to run from you, I swear. I just wanted to run through the trees. I don’t know what came over me. I wanted to feel free and now that I say it out loud, I know how stupid it sounds. Please don’t hurt me.” Though what I’m saying is truthful, even I can sense the bullshit in my words. He chuckles darkly as he runs his finger along my face, smearing dirt and saliva across my cheek.
“You wanted to feel free, huh?” He leans down more, his front pressed against my back. His warmth seeps through our clothes, even in the chill of the night. Every time he touches me, his raging inferno heats my frigid soul—even as he has me pinned to the dirt.
Bringing his lips to the shell of my ear, his baritone voice caressing me, “You will never be fucking free, Essa. No matter where you go, no matter where you run to, I will fucking find you. You’remine.” He stands and pulls me alongside him. Before I can get my bearings straight, I’m slung over his shoulders. I let out a screech in surprise, but he turns and heads back to where I presume the house is without a word.
I dangle from his shoulders, acting like a sack of potatoes as he hauls me through the trees. I feel utterly defeated, not bothering to fight him at this point. I know he’s going to punish me for running away when we get back inside and I don’t even care. I’ve been fighting every fucking day and I’m exhausted, but more than that, what’s the point? Holley’s gone and I’m here with Vincent, exactly like my parents wanted. Therefore, I have no reason to keep trying. He’s going to do what he wants to me and nothing I say or do will change that.
Vincent keeps an arm clasped around my waist, squeezing tighter the closer we get to the house. After walking for a few minutes, we break through the clearing and the house comes into sight. I lift my head from staring at his ass—and what a nice ass it is—to look at the house and see he left the door open to chase after me. I don’t know why it brings a smile to my face, but it does. Any minor inconvenience to him is a win in my book, I guess.
Still smiling, I relax my neck again and let my head hang so I can resume my staring at his ass. His muscles flex with every step he takes and the slacks he’s wearing showcase his ass perfectly. We walk through the door and Vincent kicks it shut behind us.
Without putting me down or slowing his pace, he walks us straight up the stairs to his bedroom which is down the hall from mine. When we reach his door, he pauses in front of it, not moving.
My first instinct is to ask him what the fuck he’s doing, but I bite my tongue. I can feel his anger rolling off of him in waves and I know if I open my mouth right now, it won’t do anything but worsen his mood and I’m not stupid enough to make my situation worse than it already is.
I’m most definitely stupid enough to do that.
After a minute of deafening silence passes, he opens the door and walks across the room to the bed. He flings me over his shoulder, throwing me down onto the bed. I flop like a fish on top of his mattress, a shriek leaving my mouth.
Without sparing me another glace, he turns around and shuts the door. Moving to the dresser across the room, he opens the top drawer and pulls out what seems to be handcuffs and…are those chains? Fuck!
Dread pools in the pit of my stomach and my hands feel clammy as anxiety swims in my bloodstream. He grabs my hands and clasps the cuffs around them quickly and efficiently. He pulls them above my head, stretching my arms at an incredibly painful angle. He wraps a chain around both wrists on top of the cuffs and then locks the chain to his bedpost with a fucking padlock.
The cuffs and chains are already biting into my skin, causing more discomfort, but I welcome the feeling. He moves away from me once he is satisfied my arms are secured. With nothing else to do being chained to a fucking bed, I take in his bedroom. He has me chained to a giant black four poster bed and on either side of the bed, there are two end tables. One of which has a lamp with a really ugly lamp shade, in my opinion.
The walls along the perimeter of his room are made of glass—like the rest of the house—but the interior walls are painted a dark gray keeping to the monochromatic color scheme he seems to have throughout the entire house.
I tilt my chin towards the ceiling, trying my hardest to look behind me but I can’t see much other than I’m lying on a black silk covered pillow and a thick black silk blanket. They feel soft against my abused skin. My body automatically relaxes and my eyelids droop in exhaustion. I fight to stay awake by searching for Vincent, but he must have left the room because I can’t find him. I lose the battle and sleep overtakes me.
10
Vincent
I leftthe room after I tied her up to grab a few of my favorite knives and when I came back, she was sleeping. Fucking sleeping while I have her chained to my bed. The girl I’ve come to know would’ve never fallen asleep. She would be fighting me, kicking and screaming and the fact she’s passed out on my bed right now is unusual.
This girl has brought out the best and worst sides of me more times in the last twenty-four hours than in my whole fucking life. I don’t give a shit about anyone or anything, but she somehow manages to make a part of me feel empathetic and I can’t fucking stand it. I don’t give a shit about her or her sob story of a life. Which is exactly how I feel when she runs that pretty little mouth of hers. Her attitude is a fucking trigger to the monster in my head.
It’s not like I have another personality. I’m fucking fine. It’s only every time I feel my rage blazing through my blood, set to fucking explode, a different side of me comes out and takes over and I can’t control it.
I noticed it began happening shortly before my mother OD’d and killed herself because that’s when her “boyfriends” started trying to put their hands on me, coming into my room at night. Once it began, every time shit got exceedingly difficult, it’s like he would show up and I’d suddenly have the power to fight back and any fear I had would disappear.
