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Tyrant
Ilaugh as I turn away from the window, bouncing the baby in my arms. I caught the smile on her face as she passed through the second gate. After being hopelessly stuck and wasting so much precious time, she stumbled across the first gate by accident, and now she thinks she has my whole labyrinth solved already. What Miss Stone doesn’t know is that it’s not only the gates that change. As soon as she disappears around a corner, walls will move. Markers like lamps and other decorations shift around. It amused me to design a garden that would confuse anyone who doesn’t understand its secrets. I find it fun watching people stumbling around in it, hopelessly lost.
I tickle Barlow’s cheek. “Shall we go and watch your sister on the security monitors? It won’t be long until she bursts into tears from sheer frustration because she’s hopelessly lost, and I can’t wait to see it happen.”
I walk out of the drawing room and down the passage to a smaller room filled with monitors. Most of them show no movement, but on three, there is the girl, moving through my garden, her head turning left and right as she goes.
Her dark hair tumbles down her back, and her pale dress gleams in the light from the moon, making her look like a lost nymph clothed in spider’s silk and starlight. She’s already pretty, but she looks beautiful in my garden. Soon she’ll be pretty and dead on the grass with her throat and dress shining with blood. Her arms and legs will be sprawled out. Her thighs will feel soft and smooth against my fingers. I imagine Miss Stone will leave behind a beautiful corpse. Meanwhile, I’ll watch as she exhausts herself in my labyrinth, take note of where she curls up and goes to sleep, and then go down there and play with the doll-eyed girl. With her hands bound and a gag between her teeth, she won’t be able to scream.
I groan and shift on my feet, and I have to adjust my pants which are suddenly tight around my hardening cock. I wonder how wet she’ll get as I lick her. How hard she’ll cry as I force her to get turned on against her will. I would bet my fortune that if I fuck her, there’ll be blood all over my cock after that first thrust.
Imagining all this is doing nothing to quell my raging erection.
I glance at Barlow with narrowed eyes. “I think I kidnapped the wrong sibling. Your sister and I could have more fun, don’t you think?”
Barlow looks back at me with wide, trusting eyes. He pats my jaw with his chubby hand, right over my tattoos, and I can’t help but laugh. “It’s a good thing you can’t understand a word of what I’m saying.”
Glancing at the monitors, I’m pleased to see that she is headed in completely the wrong direction. From the way she keeps doubling back, I’d say she was thoroughly fucking confused once more.
“Your sister still hasn’t made it past the third gate,” I murmur to Barlow. “It’s almost like she’s not trying to get you back.”
Barlow grabs a fistful of my shirt before looking restlessly around. He squirms against me, making frustrated little noises, and I realize what’s about to happen. It’s been a long time since I held one of my siblings when they were this age, but you don’t forget.
Barlow starts to cry. Big, open-mouthed wails at a volume to wake the dead. He might be lacking a fear response to strangers, but there’s nothing wrong with his lungs.
Angela hurries into the room, her arms outstretched, a warm bottle of formula in her hands. “I was just coming to find you, Mr. Mercer. I’ll take him off your hands so you can—”
I turn my body protectively aside so she can’t take the baby from me. “Ah-ah. I can do it.” I pluck the bottle from her fingers. I enjoyed doing this once upon a time. I forgot how much I missed it. “Did you get everything else I requested?”
Diapers. Romper suits. Wipes. A bassinet. Angela nods, watching with surprise as I settle Barlow in my arms. “Everything is set up in the room down the hall. A proper little nursery. I must say, it’s lovely having a baby in the house.”
“Don’t get used to it. Barlow’s only here because his father owes me money.”
Angela reaches out and tickles his cheek. “Still. Now that he’s here, it makes me realize that a baby is what this house needs. It’s time you were married, Mr. Mercer.”
I jerk my chin at the door. “Go. You’ve got work to do.”
Angela leaves the room, but she comes back a moment later with a clean white cloth which she lays over my shoulder. “So you can burp him without worrying about your nice shirt.”
Barlow finishes the bottle, and I pass it back to Angela before lifting the baby against my shoulder. “Hungry little fellow, aren’t you?” Barlow answers a moment later with a burp that seems to make his entire little body quake.
Angela beams at me. “You’re a natural. You’ll make a wonderful father one day.”
I open my mouth to tell her I doubt I’ll be a father when I’ve never met a woman who doesn’t irritate the hell out of me, but I’m distracted by Barlow’s wriggling. He’s been fed and burped, but he’s still not happy. “Do you need changing? Is that it?”
“I can do that for you, Mr. Mercer.” It’s clear my housekeeper is dying to pry the baby away from me and make a fuss over Barlow.
I should just hand him over, but I find myself reluctant to deposit him in Angela’s capable hands.
I stole him. He’s my baby.
I stride past Angela and carry Barlow down the hall to the makeshift nursery.
She hurries after me. “Mr. Mercer, are you sure you don’t need any help?”
“Didn’t I ever tell you I have four younger siblings? I’ve done this a thousand times.” I lay the baby down on the changing table and examine his little suit with a frown. “It’s been some time. I might be a little rusty. Let me see…”
After a few false starts and some clenched fists and howls from Barlow, I manage to change his wet diaper and get him into a fresh romper.
