Page 17 of Blood Spilled
His lips form into a thin line. Judging by his expression, he doesn't seem fully convinced. Neither am I.
Thirteen
Santiago
When I open my eyes, I'm still not chained back up and can freely roam as far as the door and bathroom. I walk to the closet the chair had come from and it's locked. What could be in it that he doesn't want me having access to? The chair is gone from the room as well. The man doesn't trust me enough to leave furniture in my room, but he trusts me to be free from my chains? I still don't understand him and what his goal is here.
I pace around the room a few times before my limbs grow tired. Glancing at the stack of books, I retrieve them from the floor, their weight almost too heavy in my arms. When I return back inside the cage, I place the books in front of me, running my fingers along the worn out spines.
I laugh at his choice in fiction—Misery, Red Dragon and Room. The man has a sense of humor. That was already clear from the beginning. He loves using it to mock my pain and awful predicament. As I'm halfway into the book Misery, the dooropens. Angel holds up a collar attached to a leash in his hands. “Ready to go for a walk, pet?”
The book crashes to the ground and my eyes go wide. He has to be joking. He opens the collar and moves closer, proving to me that he is very serious about me wearing it. “You aren't seriously putting that on me, are you?”
He kneels in front of me. “Yes, I believe I am. You don't think I'm going to just let you walk freely beside me, do you?”
I shake my head, running my fingers over the black collar covered in fake rhinestones. “No, of course not, Master.”
I didn't like the idea of being pulled with it around my neck, but I hated the idea of going another day not seeing the sun more. I bare my neck to him, and he chuckles while slipping it around me, fastening it to rest comfortably against my skin. I don't mind the way it feels wrapped around me as much as I thought I would.
The leather is soft and gentle against my skin. He pulls at the leash after he stands back up. “Come on then.”
I stare down at my naked body. “I don't have any clothes on. I can't go out there without any clothes.”
He laughs again. “Of course not, pet. I don't need anyone ogling my property.”
He pulls on the leash again and I follow him into a long hallway. He opens a closet and pulls out a pair of joggers and running shoes. “Put these on.”
I do as he asks, but it takes me longer than it normally would. My coordination is still off and him watching me the whole time doesn't help. When I'm done, we walk further down the long hallway. There are no pictures or decorations of any kind on the walls.
I don’t pay much attention to the rest of the house as we make our way down the steps, because all I can focus on is the front door and its location. As soon as we step outside, I close myeyes and inhale the smell of fresh cut grass and wet dirt. The dewy smell and humidity tells me it rained recently. The air feels damp on my skin, a good change from the stabby cold air in the small room I spend most of my time in.
When I open my eyes, Angel is eyeing me curiously. The sun isn't out today and is hidden behind the clouds, but that is probably better for my eyes. I’m barely able to handle the gray sky without squinting. “Keep walking, pet. I don't have all day.”
We walk around the house twice, but we don't go near the fields or the red barn. I take in everything around me, enjoying watching the birds fly in the open sky. There are no cars driving by and we don't come across anyone who doesn't work here.
Angel’s house is the only house, for what I can only assume, for miles. It's not like I can even shout or scream even if it wasn't. Angel directs me to the house and, as much as I don't want to go back inside and back to that room, the idea of not being pulled around the house with all his employees watching me leaves me with a sense of relief.
I continue following him and he tugs on the leash if I don't move fast enough. If I go too fast, he yanks me back all while clicking his tongue. This is supposed to be my reward, and it’s one that comes with degradation and humiliation. I wish I could say I didn’t enjoy it, but I’ve probably lied to myself enough while being here.
When he brings me back to my room, he quickly takes off the collar and yanks me by my hair, putting my face close to his and swiping his tongue across my lips. “Such a good little pet you were for me. Did you enjoy your walk?”
My lips tremble being so close to his and with shaky words I say, “Yes, Master.”
I suddenly crave for him to kiss me and when he doesn't, my body becomes a needy mess. I try to fight it, not wanting to prove him right. I won't beg for it; I'll never beg for it. I don't reallywant this. He's forced himself inside my head and planted a seed inside me that now needs constant watering.
“Tell me what you want, pet.”
I don't say anything and my body shakes against his. He steps back, smiling. “I think it's time you get some rest now. Your eyes are barely staying open. Maybe when you are well rested, you’ll be able to use your words better.”
He sits on the ground and gestures for me to sit beside him. I eye the open door and then stare at him, before collapsing on the floor next to him.
“That's a good boy, lay your head in your master’s lap.”
As soon as I lay my head down, his hands caress my scalp, and I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning. The touch and movements of his hand sliding through my hair feel amazing. I close my eyes, allowing myself to become soothed by his touch and soft humming. I'm way too tired to fight it. At least that's what I tell myself.
I wake up to my neck aching and my head hurting from being pressed against the wooden floor. Angel is gone. I sit up, rubbing the crick in the back of my neck, and when my eyes move toward the door, I notice it's open. I stare at my wrist and ankle, not seeing anything attached to me or holding me down.
It can't be. Why would he leave the door wide open?
