Page 41 of Creep
Vincent runs his index finger back and forth across his top lip while he remains crouched in front of me, thinking. After a few long, agonizing minutes, he stands to his full height, dragging me up with him. He wraps his hand around my throat and squeezes. Not enough to the point where I can’t breathe, but restricting enough so if he holds me long enough, my head starts to swim deliciously, creating the best fucking high. One I’ve become utterly addicted to.
“All right, baby. Next time I leave, I’ll leave you out.Onlybecause you’ve been such a good girl. But remember, I’ve got cameras in every room of the house, including your own. So, if you do anything stupid, I’ll see it right away and speed my ass home to beat yours. Got it?” He clasps my neck tighter for emphasis as the last words leave his mouth.
“Yes, sir.” I nod my head slightly. He rolls his eyes at my sarcasm but doesn’t say anything else. He pushes his lips against mine before pulling away.
“Come on. Let’s head downstairs, I’m fuckin’ starving and I need my girl to feed me.” He smacks my ass before heading out of the room and down the stairs, to the kitchen. I move to follow after him, but halt in my tracks the moment his words register in my head.
My girl.
What the hell is that supposed to mean?
18
Essa
True to his word,when Vincent left for work the next day, he didn’t make the usual trip upstairs to lock me in. No, he actually called me downstairs to kiss him goodbye and then out the door he went. After I watched him begin the drive down the long and winding driveway, I went and poured myself a cup of coffee.
Now I’m sitting at the kitchen island sipping the steaming beverage while I contemplate what to do with my day. Before, when I would be locked up, my only option really was to listen to music and talk to Holley occasionally, but now the possibilities are endless.
Of course my first thought is to escape, but I know it won’t be that easy. For one, there’s a security alarm on the door he only ever sets when he leaves the house for work. For one I do not know the passcode to, so if I were to open the door right now, the blaring alarms would sound and he would be notified immediately along with the local authorities. And the authorities are exactly who wedon’tneed to be here, so that’s out.
As much as my life is better because of him, it’s also so much worse. Yeah, I don’t have Ben and Sierra near me and I also don’t have Ben putting his hands on me, but it doesn’t mean Vincent doesn’t do the same. Most of the time, sex between us is consensual and I enjoy it greatly, but on occasion he still takes it from me. And it makes it all the more confusing because even when he does do that, it doesn’t hurt like it did when Ben would do it. My body is always ready for Vincent’s abuse and I don’t know why. That’s what makes it so much worse.
At least with Ben I knew I loathed him. I fucking despised him and those feelings were easy for me to work with. But with Vincent, not so much. Even when I hate him and the things he does to me, my body has a completely different reaction and confuses the hell out of me. I truly don’t know what I feel toward him, but it sure as hell isn’t pure hatred anymore.
It’s… more.
Another thing I could do is call Holley and tell her everything. He’s not here and he wouldn’t hear a word I say, but I question it. I don’t want her to up and leave her life behind for me. It’s not fair, especially because she got out and away from our parents. And if I’m being honest, so did I.
I haven’t seen Ben or Sierra since the day I left. They haven’t tried to call Vincent as far as I know and I know Holley hasn’t talked to them. So, the fact Ben scared me into doing this to protect Holley irks me. I should’ve trusted my gut andbelievedhe was full of shit then I could’ve avoided this whole fucking situation. But it’s too late now.
I’ll give Holl a call later. My irritation is too high and I know if I talk to her right now, she’ll pick up on it and I really don’t want to have to lie to her—again.
Not knowing what else to do with my newfound freedom, I decide to explore the house. I haven’t gotten the opportunity to since I’ve had Vincent up my ass twenty-four seven. Starting downstairs, I make my way through the open area. There’s not much to see down here I haven’t already because it’s one big room, but I still look anyway. I open all the drawers and snoop inside. I don’t know exactly what I’m searching for, if anything at all. I suppose I’m merely curious and I’m looking for more information about him.
I’ve been living with him for months now. He’s been inside of me and I still barely know a damn thing about him, other than the fact he’s a drug dealer and he likes to hurt me. In the grand scheme of things, that’s not really a lot to know about someone you’re fucking—if you can even call it that. I don’t even know at this point. I’m barely going through the motions and living day by day.
Finding nothing in the kitchen or living area, I move on to the game room. I haven’t been here since the day I danced for him and the second I open the door, the memory floods my brain. My panic attack, my dancing, his expression, and then the look which passed over his face as I smacked him before it turned murderous. I shiver as I shake off those thoughts, not wanting to relive them. There’s pain, and then there’s what he did to me that night.
Skipping the middle of the room where the pool table and stripper pole is, I walk around the perimeter. A massive television takes up most of one wall while the others are blank. No pictures, nothing resembling it’s a place where someone hangs out doing, I don’t know, fun things?
Massive floor to ceiling bookshelves run along the walls that aren’t made of glass. I run my fingers along the spines as I walk past, skimming the titles of a few. He has thousands of books. So many, I could never possibly dream of reading them all. I’m not a big reader, music was always my go to escape, but I can appreciate them.
My eyes zero in on a book, the spine catching my eye. I bring my index finger to the top of the spine and tilt it down and out before grabbing onto the book, diligent not to crease the corners. The book is a goldish yellow color and it saysThe Odysseyby Homer. I’ve heard of it before, but have never read it. I flip through the pages and it confuses me enough to the point where I get a headache and put it back on the shelf.
My frustration begins to grow the longer I go without finding a single thing. It’s not like I expected to find much, but this is fucking ridiculous. I stomp my way up the stairs, every thundering step echoes through the house. Once I make it to the top, the deafening sound of silence greets me. The silence is so high pitched, my ears ring. I turn around and glance down. My gaze peeks through the gaps of the stairs, giving me the ability to see straight through. My eyes land on the remote for the surround sound speakers I’ve seen Vincent use a hundred times. I fly down them to grab it and hit play. “The High Road” by Three Days Grace blares through the speakers, but I hit the volume up button until it won’t let me turn it up any louder.
Satisfied, I toss the remote on the stand and go back upstairs. I turn down the other hallway, the one opposite of mine and Vincent’s bedrooms. The first door I walk to is the one at the end of the hall. When I jiggle the handle to turn the knob, it doesn’t budge.Ding ding ding! We have a winner!
I stand there for a few messing with the handle, but it doesn’t budge. I run down the stairs and sprint into the kitchen. I grab a butter knife and run back upstairs. The butter knife is flimsy enough I can wiggle it between the latch of the door and the door frame itself. After trying to wedge it just right for the last twenty-ish minutes, I finally get it and the door clicks open, swinging backwards.
I heave out a sigh of relief before stuffing the butter knife in my back pocket. I stand to my feet and cautiously walk into the room. I know Vincent said he has cameras throughout the house, but I’m not so sure. I’ve never seen any before so I’m choosing to remain optimistic about it and if I get caught? Well, I guess I know about how bad it can get.
I feel around on the right side of the wall just inside the room, and my hand catches on the light switch and I flick it up. The light floods the room, bringing everything to light.
Bingo.
It’s his fucking office. There’s a massive wooden desk located in the back center of the room with the glass wall behind him, but it’s covered by massive black out curtains which work really fucking well because I can’t even tell it’s mid-morning outside right now. More floor to ceiling bookshelves line the wall made of what seems to be the same wood his desk is made out of. A black leather chair rests behind his desk and a few typical desk things are laying on top, but other than that, even this room remains bare. I’m not even surprised at this point.
