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I take full advantage, scrubbing myself, washing my hair, and letting my mind wander far away from here.
By the time the skin on my fingers has started to prune, I feel almost refreshed. The whole bathroom is filled with steam, and the air is so thick with heat that I struggle to even see the walls.
If I wished to, I could almost imagine that I was someplace else.
But I’m not a woman with an imagination. Not anymore. The girl in me who dared to dream is dead, burned away with her books and the bodies of the poor boys she didn’t choose.
With a heavy heart, I step out of the shower. But I don’t turn off the faucet. Not yet. The sound of running water is so relaxing, and it adds to the atmosphere that I’m alone and far away from yet another gilded cage…
But then, without warning, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and an intense fear takes hold of me.
It’s the same feeling I got that night at the plantation, just before Leonid stole me.
I’m being watched.
… By him.
Focusing my lazy gaze, I glance around the steamy bathroom, not daring to move. At first, I don’t see anyone.
But then, up ahead, a dark silhouette appears in the steam.
Tall and ominous, the figure doesn’t speak or move, it just watches.
My heart drops.
It’s him.
“What do you want?” I manage to mumble out, but I might as well be a mouse. Leonid’s black silhouette doesn’t move.
“Turn the water off,” I hear. His voice slithers through the steam like a snake, wrapping around my throat, forcing me to comply.
“I’m not done yet,” I try to say, but it comes out as a rasp.
I can’t see his mouth, but I can picture it moving as he orders me around; I can remember what it did to me. His lips on my tits, his tongue on my clit.
My toes clench as the towering figure seems to stand up straight. Slowly, he makes his way to me.
“Yes. You are,” Leonid rumbles, appearing out of the steam like some fallen angel. That golden blonde hair is too pretty to belong to such a monster. That smirk with those dimples are too charming to come from such a beast.
Remember, Sophia. A fallen angel becomes the devil.
It makes sense, because that’s what I see in the haze. The devil. Wrapped in a tight white t-shirt, his twisted, black tattoos leaking down his powerful biceps.
But when did you fall down to hell?
Suddenly, I realize that my mouth is open. I’m staring at the handsome devil like some lovesick teenybopper. I quickly amend that, turning around and marching over to the shower faucet.
“There,” I pout, shutting off the water. “Happy?”
“Not yet. Come, get dressed.”
I never thought I’d hear Leonid say that.
Hesitantly, I obey my captor’s commands, following him out of the steamy bathroom and back into the familiar cage that is my temporary bedroom.
Temporary?
Who knows how long he’ll keep you here? Who knows how long you’ll live? For all you know, this could be it. The place you die.
