MelinaSleep takes me far away from this living nightmare. When I finally wake, the cold has seeped into my body and my muscles ache. I don’t think I moved the entire time I slept. I stretch while trying to control the stormy sea of emotions rolling through me.The complete darkness keeps me from having any idea what time it is, which is disorienting. I inch my hand along the rough wall searching for the waste bucket. My fingers knock hard against the plastic and I’m surprised the damn thing doesn’t spill everywhere. Maybe if I coat myself with shit the asshole will stay away.I manage to squat on the damn thing and clean myself in the dark. It could be hours before he comes down. It could also be seconds. I fell asleep earlier playing the what if game. Sadly, besides pushups and sit ups, it’s all I have to occupy my time.What if I manage to kill him? I run and don’t go back to my brother.What if he kills me? It’s over and that’s okay.What if he returns me to my brother? Again I di
Melina“You behaved, so I have a treat for you.” I stare at him without comprehension. This is the second longest string of words he’s put together since I arrived. “You’ll get one chance at this. If you blow it, I won’t take you out of here again. Or, I should say until I take you back to your brother.”The intense look in his eyes tells me he can’t wait to send me back. “I’ll be good.” My voice breaks slightly. Fuck me. Will I be good? This could be my one chance at escape. “I promise,” I add because he just keeps staring at me with those same cold eyes that say he could break my neck just like my brother did Feather’s.He gives me the slightest nod. “Follow me.” He turns and heads up the stairs.He’s really taking me out of the dungeon. Shakily I make my legs move. I lift the blanket higher so I don’t trip. He opens the door and looks back at me while holding it. I keep climbing until I walk out of the door into a large kitchen. I was raised with money, ill-gotten, dirty money but
AustinWhen I’m inking her skin, I enter another zone where the normal world is dreamlike. My entire focus centers on the flesh beneath my fingers. Tattooing has always been my escape. With her, it’s different in so many ways—the softness of her skin, the shiver that occasionally passes along her back and shoulders, and the timbre of her voice. The dark swirls of my past infiltrate her skin just like the ink. But unlike the ink, she absorbs the darkness and turns it light. She’s playing havoc with my thoughts and this isn’t a good thing. She isn’t as malleable as she lets on.It was stupid to allow her upstairs. I didn’t give it thought when the words spilled from my mouth. It’s something about her that I can’t put my finger on. It felt right to have her walking around my home. Not that she was able to explore, but her presence reminded me of the way Cindy filled a room and made me feel welcome.Melina complied so beautifully with my orders and I’ll probably do it again. And yes, it w
AustinI’m careful about the blood as I begin systematically removing his fingers. The plastic tarp beneath him flows red and his screams are deafening. I’m tempted to cut out his tongue even without the information I came for. Only two fingers remain on his left hand when he starts talking. Diego Fernandez has his fingers where they don’t belong and those fingers will come off one by one too. The bullet I place between the man’s eyes cuts off his final scream. I look at the three men standing in the warehouse with a dispassionate stare. This is my business now and I’ll respond exactly as Victor would. Death is a gift. The men in my world respect that. They know Victor held me on a tight leash and I don’t want them to see all of the monster quite yet.Without a word, I wash my hands in a small sink, remove the rubber apron, roll down my sleeves, and place my jacket back on. I casually pull my shades over my eyes and walk from the warehouse, leaving the men to dispose of the body. A st
MelinaMy back hurts. Hell, my entire body hurts. The stone floor is hard, cold, and uncomfortable. All I do is sleep in the darkness or lay with my eyes open staring at nothing. Even exercise is no longer helping. The slow tendrils of insanity threaten me. I don’t know how much longer I can handle the boredom of living in the dark with limited mobility. Now I only want to scream. If I start, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.The door opens above the stairs and I wait for the light to go on, but it doesn’t happen. Austin carries down a tray with a penlight providing direction. He rests the tray on the cement and leaves without a word. On the tray is another small flashlight. I click it on before his light clears the basement.Victory. Something I’m doing is getting through to him. It could be my stories or my submission. I laugh at the thought. I don’t have a submissive bone in my body; it’s a complete sham. Not the stories, though. Those are true and it’s comforting to finally sa
MelinaI don’t cry. I can’t. Tears never help anything. Reliving the day at the zoo was good for me. My mom was happy that day. She was a shy woman with no backbone. My father kept her easily in line by threatening me. I often wondered why she didn’t kill him. I wondered the same about myself as I grew older.Austin begins wiping down my skin and tapes on more plastic wrap when he’s finished. I take comfort in his touch. For once I appreciate his silence. He eventually leads me back to the wall. He gives me to the darkness without a backwards glance. Remembering is exhausting and I sleep like the dead.The next morning he turns on the overhead light when he brings food. After breakfast I feel refreshed for the first time in days. My heart thumps in anticipation at what the overhead light means. I crave the release the needle brings.Austin doesn’t speak. We have a routine now and I offer no trouble when he leads me to the bed. Even his eyes appear somber today. He prepares his equipme
AustinAfter three weeks, the tattoo is almost complete. Melina’s stories always begin when I push the pedal and fire up the Dragonfly. By now she knows I won’t offer comfort. That doesn’t stop the words from pouring into the room. It’s hard not to believe her. The horrifyingly real details paint a life of fear and survival much like mine, only hers carries on today. My nightmare ended when Victor picked me up from the juvenile facility.Diego Fernandez will die by my hand for what he did to Cindy and now, for what has been done to Melina.Every two days I bring her upstairs, allow her time to wash in the bathroom sink and eat a meal at the table. The hard part is taking her back into the basement. I enjoy seeing her walking in my home. When she’s up here, I think of the house as mine and not Victor’s. Maybe I like having her up here too much.All I have left to ink is the top and bottom parts of the design. One skeletal hand will swirl over her shoulder and settle on her breast. The
AustinI ease the pressure while looking into her stark, brown eyes. They’re flaked with gold and hold an entire world I know nothing about. I only know the bad parts and I know she’s unafraid. She may be the only person who doesn’t fear me. It’s one of the reasons I believe the stories she’s told me. Her lack of fear could only come from a place that’s lived with ongoing terror. I had the same demeanor when Victor brought me here. Nothing done to me could be worse than what I had already survived. She’s like me—a survivor. Her brother won’t be the end of her. His death will bring her freedom. No, I won’t kill her even if the thought of squeezing her throat until she’s unconscious has my cock going rock hard. The biggest problem is I don’t trust myself to stop before it’s too late and that would ruin my plans. Yeah, the old Austin is still here and scarier than ever.I work on her shoulder connecting the tapestry to a skeletal arm matching the one on her ass. She inhales slowly and gr