Page 18 of Madness

“Have you ever killed anyone?” I whispered.

I wasn’t afraid of the question. I already knew the answer. But I needed to hear it. Maybe if I heard the words out loud, it would scare me enough to run. Because I needed to run. If I didn’t, I would get trapped.

“Yes.” I waited for the terror. But it still didn’t come.

“Why?”

“What answer do you want to hear?” His hand tightened around the glass he was holding. It was the only show of emotion. It told me he didn’t like my question. What I didn’t know was why? He freely admitted to wanting to kill my ex. He shouldn’t be surprised that I wanted to know more.

“Do you want me to tell you I did it because I had to? That’s true. Do you want me to say I didn’t like it? That would be a lie.”

I looked into his blue eyes. I could see the rage from earlier. Like before, the look gave me the fear I’d been searching for. The horror his words couldn’t. Maddox was telling the truth, and my question had angered him. I didn’t want to see what that anger would get me. Would he kill me when this game was over?

“I’m leaving.” I stood so quickly I knocked my chair over.

I watched him as I walked back towards the door. I didn’t want to turn my back on him like I’d done the first night. Maddox just watched me, his eyes never softening.

The doorknob jabbed into my back. I reached behind me and felt the cold metal on my hand. Or maybe it wasn’t cold, but my skin was hot. The feel of it should have been a relief, but it wasn’t. I started to turn it when his deep voice grabbed me. It worked through my body and sent a shiver down my spine.

“We still need to handle your punishments.” He said in a smooth tone. His voice was like the most expensive whiskey, going down with a slight burn. “If you leave now, you get nothing.”

I’d forgotten about the money. The reason I had stayed, to begin with. I needed it. I hate that I needed it. I hated that it was my excuse.

He knew he had me when I lowered my head slightly. I could feel the shift in the room. A subtle turn from fear to anticipation.

“Take your tights and panties off.”

“What? No!” I shouted, but my stupid demented body clenched at his words. My nipples tightened, and wetness dripped between my legs.

“That’s eight. If you continue to argue, it’ll only be worse.”

Why was I doing this? Did I really need the money that badly? Shit, I did. I knew I did. I might have been able to live with that if my body hadn’t started tingling. Responding to the change in his voice. To the anticipation in the air.

I looked down at the floor. I couldn’t look into his eyes while I stripped. As I reached under my skirt and pulled them down, I briefly wondered what had happened to the other pair I’d left in here.

“Bring them to me.” My head shot up to see if he was serious. Maddox stared at me. His blue eyes shining with that sadistic gleam.

I slowly walked across the room. Each step felt like a mistake. Like I was walking to my death. But I didn’t stop. What was wrong with me that I wanted to see what he would do?

I dropped them on the table. Carefully his hand moved to pick them up as if he was touching something precious. He brought them to his face and inhaled deeply. “Drenched for me.”

Embarrassment flushed my face. The same shame I’d been feeling for years since I’d told my ex about my desires. I shouldn’t be wet because of the threat of pain or his words. But I was.

Why did he have to keep talking about my body’s reaction to him? It was bad enough I had to know it and live with it. But he kept reminding me. Kept throwing it back at me, making me face something about myself I wasn’t ready to look at. I might never want to open that door.

“Can you stop?” I asked.

“Stop what?” Maddox tucked my black lace panties into the pocket of his suit, leaving the tights on the table. Is that where my last pair had gone?

“Stop mentioning it.” I said through clenched teeth.

“Mentioning what? How wet you are for me? How I can smell you from here? How I haven’t even touched you yet, but your body is already welcoming me?” He smiled, and it only made his face more attractive.

I stared down at the table. How did he know that? Was I so easy to read?

“Bend over the table.”

I didn’t even pretend to resist this time. I just wanted to get this over with, so I could leave. Take my money and run. And yes, I realized I sounded like a whore. I wouldn’t feel bad about it. I needed the money because of the medical debt. The debt that had kept my mom alive for another six months. I couldn’t regret that, even if it had led me here. To him.

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