Page 4 of Spark

For the first few weeks, I had just wanted her silent and submissive. For the most part, she had been, but I knew it wouldn’t last. Once she was able to speak again, she would start expressing her complaints and objections in an array of cuss words that would only make me want to reinstall the wire. I’d have to find a way to instill her fear of me without fucking up her recovery. The only problem was I wasn’t around enough to continue to remind her of who owned her. I already had to fly back out tomorrow morning to deal with more shit, but I somehow managed to have one day this week that allowed me the time to come and visit her. It was overwhelming how much I missed her.

Just feeling her silky red hair between my fingers was enough to remind me of how much I needed her. And it pissed me right the fuck off. In her presence, I’d become obsessive, but in her absence, I’d become pathetically dependent. She was always on my mind. Always. I felt like a goddamn drug addict just waiting for my next fix.

In a very short span of time, Jaden had become the lifeline to the other side of my world where others didn’t often venture. A side that was warm, and bright, and safe, and Jaden was the fucking bouncer. I couldn’t get in without her. She was my gateway drug that led straight to paradise, the place where I could forget everything and just drown myself in her. The only problem was I treated her like a damn dog treats its chew toys. I just had to remind myself not to chew too hard lest I ruined her completely.

Jaden was still so much an experiment—my perfect little puzzle. I was still figuring out what worked and what didn’t with her. If all else failed and she still refused to break, I had one last card in my pocket to draw. My final ace—one I hoped I wouldn’t need because the damage of that could be irreparable. It was a dangerous and fragile method, and I feared that if I used it, neither one of us were coming back from it. Ever.

There was a price for everything and mine just might be Jaden’s sanity…

3

Horizon

* * *

The following day, I finally got the wire off my jaw, and it was the first time in weeks I was actually happy about something. After completing several exercises for Sid, it was determined that my jaw had completely healed, though I had to take it easy and keep up with the exercises to make it strong again.

I still couldn’t talk much or eat hard solids, but at least, I could finally move my jaw again. It was sore and stiff while my voice was dry and dull, but Sid assured me that, in time, it would all go back to normal so long as I stuck to my recovery plan and followed the exercises.

That day, I had scrambled eggs for breakfast, and it was the best damn breakfast I’d ever had, especially since Darren had to leave the island early for some mainland business.

Darren was much busier while on the island. Since he couldn’t attend his meetings face to face anymore, he had to resort to new ways of delegation. It seemed that Scott handled a lot of it too since he wasn’t around as he normally was. I didn’t mind it so much, as it meant more time away from Darren.

Once I finished my breakfast, Ginsby told me that Darren had assigned another guard for my trips outside. Benito, a tall, lanky-looking SOB with dark hair, stood next to Hank; they both wore the exact same black suit, white shirt, and black tie. They even wore the same black sunglasses. Geez, had Darren contracted the Men in Black to guard me? I thought it was strange, especially since the guards on Darren’s estate all wore black combat gear. Maybe the threat out here wasn’t as great as the ones back at the estate.

After being woken from my nap and reluctantly changing into a knee-length flowy dark pink halter dress and light brown leather flip-flops, I headed over to the door to signal I was ready to leave for my mandated walk. I wondered if I would get a treat afterward.

Hank and Benito both stood from the fine black leather lounge chairs added to my suite to accommodate them and walked over toward the door to unlock it. Yes, I was actually locked in this room unless I was granted access to leave. Another fine reason to be depressed.

Hank unlocked the door and stepped out. I followed him while Benito trailed behind me, walking through the house until we finally came to the front door. The house was actually quite spacious for an island home. Many windows to let in natural light and mostly creams and shades of blue and turquoise decorated the interior. Thankfully, my suite was on the first floor, so I didn’t have to walk the stairs.

When we reached the front door, Hank opened it and allowed me to walk past him into the warm sunshine. It was very warm on the island, but the breeze was always something to be thankful for. Apparently, a hurricane had hit land several miles away, and the winds from it were felt all the way here.

Humidity sank into my skin as I wandered down the stone walkway until I finally hit the sand. It was perfectly white, and the water couldn’t be a more beautiful shade of clear blue. But all the beauty in my sight couldn’t slake the overwhelming disinterest I felt. What good was a beautiful private island if you couldn’t even fully enjoy it?

I slipped out of my flip-flops and left them in the sand before taking a few steps toward the shore. The moment my toes touched the water a, “That’s far enough, Miss Jaden,” left Hank’s lips. I didn’t even acknowledge him. I squished my toes into the wet sand, feeling the warm bath-like water wash over my feet. And still, I felt nothing.

I casually strolled along the shore, Benito and Hank not more than twenty feet behind me. I did my best to let the scenery drown them out, but it was tough to ignore two stalking shadows behind you. At least, the water felt nice against my feet and ankles.

As I walked, I pondered the necessity of this walk. One foot in front of the other. What difference did it make? I had walked five hundred feet from the front door and didn’t feel any better. But to be fair, I didn’t feel any worse either. In a stubborn fit, I stopped walking and plopped my ass down, my knees bent and my feet digging in the soft, warm sand.

“Miss Jaden,” Hank said, “our orders were to take you for a walk on the beach, not to sulk in the sand.”

Take me for a walk? The fuck was I, a dog?

Irritated, I leaned over, took my two fingers, and started writing in the sand.

‘Drag me then,’ I wrote and went back to staring out at the ocean.

They weren’t going to make me walk anywhere. I’d fight them, and they’d just end up injuring me. Walk over.

Hank sighed heavily as he and Benito walked over to a nearby palm tree to lean against it. I didn’t bother to turn around. I knew where their eyes were and where they would remain. Mine, on the other hand, stared out at the roaring ocean before me. The wind was warm but fierce as it forced the water to rise and crash into the shore. The scene was beautiful and full of promise, but my heart just wasn’t in it. Even as the midday sun shined down on me, its rays warming my skin, I was reminded of a moment that would never last. Whatever second of peace I would receive would instantly shatter the moment I brought myself back to reality. This was not home. This was not life. This was not me.

And technically, it wasn’t even me anymore, was it? Over the last few weeks, I had come to terms with the fact that I was now legally dead. Jaden Morgan Wilder was gone and buried six feet under, yet her killer was still at large.

Now that I was dead, I wondered if it gave me an advantage. I doubted it, though. If it gave anyone an advantage, it was Darren. He could take me out in public, and no one would bat an eye. I wasn’t the missing girl anymore. I was the found dead girl in an alley, burned to a crisp after an apparent drug overdose. The search was called off, and the world would eventually forget about me. At least, if that were the case, I wouldn’t have to worry about any more gardeners recognizing me and getting themselves killed.

I sat there in the sand for what felt like hours, watching the waves roll and crash against the shore, while the wind blew through my hair. I felt numb inside. Like those waves, everything was crashing around me, and I was helpless to stop it. I felt useless, hopeless… and utterly fucked. Sid was probably right. I wasn’t helping my condition by wallowing about my life, but I was running short on the positivity bank.

---