Chapter 3 - Why

Why

I glance up, fear displayed on my face and stray tears still dripping down my face. Grace jumps away from me with a wince and faces the door. Crawling backwards on my knees, I go to the farthest side of the room from the door, giving myself rug-burns in my haste. The thick wooden door swings open and Ethan enters. His bright blue eyes land on Grace for a moment before he scans the rest of the room. He spots me huddled in the corner.

"Why are you still in here, Grace?" He asks coldly, his gaze never leaving my face while he speaks to her. I bury my head in my arms to escape the intensity of his stare.

Grace's voice quivers as she answers. "I was just leaving, Sir. I brought her some food-"

"I don't remember telling you to bring her food." He says, glancing away to look at Grace. She cringes.

"I..." She trails off.

"I'll deal with you later." He dismisses her with a tilt of his head. She quickly leaves, shutting the door firmly behind herself. Ethan's eyes land on my trembling form. I feel some pity for Grace, but I am more worried for myself. Grace is not alone in a room with a maniac.

I watch him slowly move closer to me, his pace a leisurely stroll with his arms behind his back. I scoot back further until my back touches the wall, my eyes riveted on his face. He stands in front of me, staring down at me for a moment before crouching down and looking me full in the face. My body trembles, but I force myself to stare right back at him, my face blank. He grins.

"Hello there." He says, reaching his hand towards my face. I pull away and glare at him. "Miss me?"

"No." I say coldly, ignoring the strands of still-damp, chestnut hair falling across my face.

He laughs. "I had hoped you might be in a better mood by now." I give him an incredulous look, as if a bath, new clothes that I hate and his arrival would put me in a good mood. What is wrong with this guy?

He reaches his hand out again and brushes the strands of hair back from my face. I look away and focus on the opposite wall instead. Abruptly, he takes my arm and pulls me to my feet. I shiver at his touch. His gaze travels down my body before looking back up into my face with a wicked grin on his. One of his cold hands touches my neck trailing down to caress my breast. I slap him instinctively.

He clutches my wrist and glares at me, forcing my arm to my side. "You don't learn very quickly, do you?" He growls, pinning me against the wall. He holds me there with his masculine frame with my feet dangling, so that the two of us are the same height and his face is inches from mine. Strands of his messy black hair tickle my face. I wince as he presses hard against my tiny body. A tell-tale lump presses against my pelvis. I turn my head aside, close my eyes tight and focus on breathing. My heart flutters nervously in my chest and I am certain he can feel it.

He whispers, his breath tickling my neck. "You'll learn, though, baby."

He presses his lips to my earlobe, leaving them there for a moment before nuzzling my neck. Sniffing, he takes in my scent. He exhales, the air warm on my cheek. My heart beats faster, nervous and afraid. He pulls away and looks down at me, one eyebrow raised in a cocky pose. I open my eyes and swallow, my chest heaving.

"Why did you bring me here?" I gasp in a raspy voice, blinking furiously.

He tilts his head and gives me a half grin. " I believe Grace already told you, Heather. Don't be stupid."

I sag against the wall. He must have heard the conversation. But how? "But why me?" I whisper, clenching my fists.

"You interest me. So beautiful but so lonely." He moves closer again and I cannot help but notice the lump in his pants. I gulp. "Plus, it was either eat you or take you. And I don't want to see such beauty go to waste. I can pick uglier people for my meals." He eats people? This must be a nightmare! But my dreams have never been this vivid. While I am thinking, he snakes his arms around my waist and pulls me to him again. By the time I realize what is happening, he is pulling me over to the bed.

"Let me go!" I shout, struggling in his tight grip. He ignores me and pushes me down on the silk sheets, pinning me there by kneeling on my thighs. A vision of the night before enters my mind. I gasp and try with everything in me to get him off me, using my fists to push him away and my finger nails to scratch at his arms.

"Don't worry. No needles this time." He says roughly, covering my mouth with one hand, pinning my upper body to the bed. I shake my head and try to pry his hand off with my own. His strength surpassing mine with ease.

He pulls his shirt off with his other hand, revealing a slightly tanned and muscled chest. I do not care to enjoy the site. He releases my mouth to pull off my shirt, revealing my tanned breasts. I let out a scream, my fists pummeling uselessly at his arms. He raises a brow and taps my cheek. "Be quiet and stay still." I glare up at him, tears flowing like a river in the spring time. I ache to tell him to stop, but my body will not listen to me, it is listening to him, being quiet and staying still.

His bright blue eyes move down my body, memorizing my every curve. I squeeze my eyes closed and force down a sob. He quickly pulls my skirt and panties off. I look up at him, my eye pleading for him to stop. He ignores me and runs a finger down my stomach, tracing the thin line between my slightly pronounced belly.

"I made a good choice in bringing you here. Your body is...nearly perfect." He tells me, his gaze locked on mine. I blink, hating his perfect body and the way his black hair falls perfectly against his face. With all my might I fight against the spell binding me to his will. Just one hit. Just one to ruin his perfect face. I want to make him hurt the way he is making me hurt. It is impossible. I almost pass out from the exertion. Ethan smiles.

"Can't do it, can you?" He says, his smile infuriating me.

I bare it in silent revulsion. While Ethan enjoys himself, I am screaming on the inside. Small sobs leave my mouth as I am roughly shaken around on the bed. The nightmare seems to last forever and so does the pain. Eventually, he thrusts deep inside of me, his head back and his eyes half closed. He waits a few seconds, his breathing heavy, before he pulls out and glances down at my trembling form. He pushes his hair out of his face and blinks, his eyes cold and uncaring. I suddenly find myself able to move. Rolling over onto my side, I curl up into fetal position and rock back and forth. I can hear Ethan's footsteps as he pulls up his pants and leaves the room, closing the door behind himself. He does not even care. I lie there for a long time, my body aching in pain. I always imagined my first time being with someone I loved and who cared about me deeply; my husband. Instead, the bloody bastard stole it from me without a second thought! My blood boils at thought of him.

Will I ever get out of here? From what Grace said, it sounds like I will not. This probably will not be the last time Ethan will take me. Some lump rises in my throat again, but my eye is unable to force out any more tears. My mind wanders to another alternative. If I cannot find a way to get out of here by foot... It would not be very hard to find a sharp object. Just a quick slit of my wrist or throat. A quick stab into my heart. What the hell? I am not giving up that easily. There should be some way out of here.

I sit up, feeling sore between my legs. I moan slightly and glance down at the bed. A small patch of deep crimson with a hint of white cream can be seen against the black silk. My blood. Ethan took that from me and defiled me with his sperm! In a fit of rage, I pick up the lamp sitting on the dresser and hurl it across the room with a scream. It smashes satisfyingly against the wall and I smile. I grab a figurine from the floor and cast it across the room, breaking it as well. I grab everything I can lift that is not attached to the floor or the wall and throws them, not satisfied until everything that belongs to that monster is shattered across the carpet and my voice is hoarse from screaming as loud as I can. A very expensive looking laptop computer and a cell phone are among the broken items.

I look around the room when I am finished and spot my clothes on the floor. They are not much, but they are better than nothing. I slip them on and run my hand across my face, sighing softly. I will never forget this. I will never forget the way he used and abused me. I must find a way out of here, but until then, I have to be strong. I suddenly feel very tired. I did not want to even look at the bed. The cage was not an option either, so I curled up on the littered carpet, ignoring the shards of glass that dig into my skin, and fall into a deep sleep.

When I wake up, the first thing I notice is the metal bar in front of my face. Then I notice the other bars next to it. I take my time getting up, still worn out from my temper tantrum, and look around with a bewildered expression. I am in the cage. The floor outside of my jail is clean, and everything is neatly put back in place, as if my tantrum never happened. I wrinkle my brows. I look at my hands and see little scratches on them.

I look over at the bed and am shocked to find him sitting there, his legs slightly spread, elbows resting on his knees and his chin in his hand watching me intently, but not in the same cold way as before. I shiver and inch backward, remembering my promise to myself. I have to stay strong. I force myself to stay still, but I cannot seem to make myself look into those eyes again. I sit rigid, my shoulders tense. I try to keep myself from bawling again when I remember what happened. I wait in silent agony as he sits there, examining me.

I almost jump out of my skin when he speaks. "Enjoy your little fit?" I do not look at him, forcing myself to stay perfectly still. this does not seem to bother him. "I'd have thought you'd be tired after our little bang." He says.

Clenching my teeth, I force myself not to cry at his crude reference. I hear the bed shift as he stands up, his footsteps soft as he strolls across the room toward me. I begin to tremble. Without warning, his hand is under my chin, forcing me to look up at him. I look away, my heart pounding.

"Look at me." He commands, his voice a whisper, almost begging.

I swallow, my copper eyes moving until I am staring him full in the face, a mask outside the bars of my cage.

"You shouldn't have laid in some many sharps things. You could have cut yourself." He whispers, his expression slowly changing.

My breath quickens as fear takes over again. When he is like this, it is like and icy chill before a blizzard. His hypnotizing eyes are frozen on mine and my stomach tightens.

"If you ever do that again, I'll teach you what torture feels like." He breathes.

I stare at him and nod.

"Excuse me?" He murmurs, a dangerous warning behind his words.

"Yes." I mumble miserably, a single tear escaping and trickling down my face. He releases his hold on me and fold his arms over his chest.

"Call me master," he commands.

"Yes, Master." I whisper, another tear making a path down my cheek.

He reaches over and unlocks the cage. The door swings open in the front where he is standing. I glance up, terror plainly shown in my face as more tears appear and run down my face. He cannot mean to have me again, so soon. Ethan reaches in and takes my arm, gently pulling me out of the cage. I step onto the carpet with my face turned away from Ethan. I halfheartedly jerk my arm in his grip, knowing it would not do any good to resist. He gently pulls back, inching me towards himself. I shake my head and close my eyes, hoping with my whole being that he was not going to hurt me again.

To my surprise, he simply pulls me into his arms and presses my face into his chest. I forget to breathe. My wet face quickly soaks his shirt, but he just wraps his arms around me and presses face into my hair. That one act of small kindness, even from him, opened every emotion I was holding in. I tremble out of fear, sadness and anger all because of this man. However, just being held has me loose it. So, I cry because in that moment that is all I can do.

After a moment he speaks. "If you behave, you'll enjoy your life here." He whispers right above my ear. It sounds muffled but smooth, like a snake.

I decide to be brave. "You mean if I become your slave," I say bitterly, not even sure that he hears me with my face pressed into his chest.

He does not even flinch. "Call it what you want."

I clench my teeth and my body goes rigid. Why is he being like this? One second he is cruel and does not care. The next he is nice and sweet. He must be toying with me. I push away from him. His arms tighten for a second before he releases me. I glare up at him. He raises a brow.

"What I want is to go home!" I yell, sounding like a spoiled brat. I do not care. I am so sick of all of this. If he chooses to kill me, well, that is better than whatever else he has planned for me.

He watches me for a minute, his arms folded over his chest. "Obviously, you need some time to think about it." With a sigh, he takes my arm and pushes me into the cage. I trip and land on my stomach. Thankfully, the soft pillows cushion my fall. I turn quickly, hoping to beat the door and bolt out of the room, but he slams the gate in my face and leaves the room. I kick at the bars and scream for him to let me out. It does nothing. I bury my face in the pillows, screaming and crying until my lungs could not take it anymore.

After a while, I pace in my cage, wiggling the gate every now and then. I use my fingers to get the tangles out of my hair and organize the pillows and blankets. I do anything I can think of to keep myself entertained. Anger takes over a few more times, resorting in me hurting my feet on the gate trying to break it open. The exertion eventually takes over my body and I fall asleep.