Page 28 of Pain and Possession

She stares quietly, watching the way I speak to my men, taking everything in. Hock will probably give me shit for my lack of secrecy around her, she can handle it. What's a few more cops on the payroll if she opens her mouth? Although that will make it difficult for the other heads to accept her. She's smart, she understands there's no out for her.

Not anymore.

She doesn't move away or stop me as we enter my room. I lead her into the attached warm toned bathroom her eyes following my every move, watching me intently as I collect towels, soaps and oils. Gathering them all by the silver tray that sits next to the large bathtub. I plug the drain and start the water, sitting on the edge and checking the temperature with my scarred wrist, the other still bandaged from yesterday.

She looks away from me, staring at herself in the mirror before she takes a deep breath and begins undressing. A smirk falls across my face as she slowly slips the black sundress down her smooth back, letting it linger slightly before exposing the gentle slope of her ass. My cock jerks back to life in my pants as she let's it fall to the floor, hooking her fingers into her underwear and pulling them down her soft pale legs. Blue veins show in the back of her knee, my hands twitch with the desire to reach out and trace them but I won't. I know my little doll hasn't accepted me; she's merely resigned to her fate for the night. Too mentally taxed to argue.

Good.

As much as I love the fire in her, she's fucking exhausting. She doesn't turn to face me right away; blush creeps up her neck as she fiddles with the bracelet. I turn off the water and quickly grip her wrist, my other arm snaking around her bare waist as I capture her eyes in the large ornate mirror. "This never leaves your wrist Olive, ever."

My touch is gentle the way I always want it to be on her skin, but the tone of my voice is not. This is the price that comes with someone as fucked up as me.My eyes linger on the marks and bruises I left on her, decorated by the smear of her arousal and my blood, I lean into the sense of pride that comes with it.

She's mine.

Her hand trembles as I lead her to the tub, helping her inside before she lowers herself into the water, I wish with everything I could glimpse her thoughts, that beautiful icy yet fragile stare of hers betrays nothing. She slips deeper into the steaming water, hiding her beautiful figure beneath the bubbles. I remove my shirt, aware of her eyes on me. I take my time, letting her see me.

All of me.The ugly and fucked up bits just as well as the ascetically pleasing parts. All of it belongs to her.

She sinks even lower, leaving only her button nose and eyes exposed as my hard cock springs free of my pants. The bubbles beneath her nose dip with each breath she takes. I smirk at her as I move behind her, pulling her long braid from the water as I gently work it free of itself, careful not to pull at the tiny hairs. A much warmer smile blooms on my face as my cock deflates. I step into the water behind her, pulling her gently to my chest she finally speaks.Wiping the bubbles off her face, "What were you thinking about just now?"

"My sister, she used to make the biggest fuss about having her hair pulled. Refused to brush it, that's why I always had to put it in braids."

"Your mom, does she know you killed your dad?" I nod, grabbing a cloth from the tray before dipping it into the water, watching as it drips onto her delicate shoulders.

Everything about Olive is delicate, despite her fiery disposition. So fucking breakable. Like what's on the outside of her doesn't match what's on the inside.

"She asked me to. He wasn't a kind man Olive."

"Like you."

I stop washing her, stroking the pulse point in her neck, "I am nothing like him. He beat her, shamed her every day of her life. Bought her and raped her. I protected my mother and my sister from more of that hellish man."She nods, leaning back against me. Her smooth skin pressed against my scarred flesh. The new cuts burning and angry.

"The world isn't painted in black and white doll, the people in it are no different. I'm a bad man, but I could be good for you. He was an awful husband and a disgusting man, but he was a decent enough father."She leans away, turning to face me as she curls her legs underneath her.

"After I leave here, I never want to see you again. You don't want to be like him but look at what you've done to me Noè. You've stalked me, assaulted me, killed a man I was with for kissing me…" She trails off her eyebrows knitted together in frustration.

"Come back Olive, I need to wash your hair."

People aren't black and white. I'm about as gray as it gets.

Chapter seven

Games & Enemies

Olive

I turn adjusting myself again in his arms, I've only slept for about two hours collectively. The rest of my time has been spent watching the clock as he sleeps peacefully beside me. He's so fucking handsome, his broody, sculpted face unusually relaxed. I was too fucked up the night we met to truly appreciate how attractive he is. No doubt I would've been too nervous to follow him home if I hadn't been. He's sleeping on his stomach, one of his arms wrapped around my waist, the other under his head. I raise my hand tentatively, slowly and gently tracing the scars on his back. Imagining what they all might be from, counting down the hours until I'll be released from him.

After I map out the last scar, I can't take it anymore. I have to pee and I'm deathly fucking bored. I carefully peel his heavy arm from my body, slipping out of the bed with ghost like stealth. I got good at sneaking around after all my years in shelters and shit foster homes. Walking to the bathroom in the dark is a bit of a challenge but after relieving myself and cleaning up I come back into the bedroom, half expecting him to be awake. He's not.

I shuffle over to the closet where the faint moonlight doesn't even touch, trying to navigate it without waking me. I try to formulate a plan as I shuffle through the clothes he bought me when the living room with the consoles pop into mind.

Bingo.

I know better than to try to escape, the compound is well staffed and guarded. No part of me wants to risk angering him, not right now anyway. Hell, I don't even know if I'll be allowed out of the room. I just need to bide my time until my shift. I can't very well trudge about in a t-shirt and panties. He dressed me in his own shirt much to my obvious displeasure, forgoing all the expensive looking nighties hanging in here.

I find a pair of black wide legged jeans that fit like a glove, a little concerned how he figured out all my sizes. When I can't find a top that isn't worth more than my rent I settle for a black cropped athletic top. It's closer to my street style, anyway. The jeans are high wasted, so they hide the pudge around my stomach. I walk from the closet, slowly opening the large heavy wooden door. My heart thumps loudly in my chest as I pull it shut behind me, waiting for Noè to tunnel from the room in a rage. I pause in his office; I've never been very good at direction. I'm not even sure I can my way there or back, it's 5am. Surely someone will help me if I get lost.

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