Page 16 of Scar

I feel sick. Why do I feel sick? My head is throbbing, my mouth feels like it's full of cotton, and my joints are sore. What is going on? I didn't even drink last night. My eyes feel like they're weighed down with lead. I hate this feeling. I rub my eyes until they finally feel clear enough to open. But I'm not in my room, I'm not even in my apartment. Where the heck am I?

I sit straight up in the bed I'm in, ignoring how dizzy that sudden movement made me feel. Why can't I remember what happened? I remember everything that happened when I got drunk Friday night. How is it that now I can't even remember drinking? I'm so confused. I'm nauseous as well. I didn't even feel this nauseous last time.

Whatever happened last night, this is a lovely room. It's cold, just how I like it so I can curl up under thick fleece blankets. It has plenty of natural light, the morning sun is lighting up the gorgeous dark gray hardwood floors that contrast perfectly to the off-white creamy walls.

Wait, it's morning? How long have I been out?

The bed I'm laying in is massive and so soft. If I wasn't so nauseous and confused, this would be nice. There's far too many pillows and a few too many blankets, just how I like it. Wait, some of these are mine... That's my blanket. My favorite blanket is what's covering me up. Did I plan to come here?

I don't like this. I don't like the vibe I'm getting from this situation. I need to leave. I jump up out of bed, feeling quite light-headed. It makes me stop for a second and hold onto the small nightstand for balance while I beg this feeling to go away and that I don't throw up or pass out.

I grip tightly onto the nightstand until the room stops spinning, looking down to see my blue light filtering glasses, my book, and a bottle of water. Did I wake up in another timeline? I look settled in this room, like I'm supposed to be here. But the door is locked from the outside, that's terrifying on its own.

I take a lap around the room, looking at everything. Half the closet is full of my clothes. Everything is carefully hung and sorted by item. The other half of the closet is a man's clothes. Cigarette pants, fancy sweaters, button-ups, slacks, loafers, and Oxford shoes. Wait, Leon? This can't be. I can't be the girl that gets so drunk that she sleeps with a professor... I'm not even sure if that's what happened. I don't think it did. I'm seeing small flashes of my memory the longer I'm awake, but none of it makes sense.I'm seeingmy birthdaycake destroyed, then I fall asleep crying. I feel rope? No! This can't be…

I was kidnapped. By someone, I don't know who. Maybe Leon? No. I still have to be dreaming, but you don't hurt in dreams. And right now, my throat hurts, as do my wrists. I lift my hands, seeing red marks from rope cutting into my skin. I sink down on the closet floor, curling my knees up to my chest and resting my forehead on my knees.

The jingle of keys snaps me out of my thoughts. I crawl backward until I'm hidden by the layers of hung pants. "Ma petite fleur, you can come out now. I will not hurt you." The voice says. That is Leon... I don't even know what to say, but I definitely don't believe him that he won't hurt me. I hear him take a slow lap around the room, confident he won't find me. But he does, far too quickly. He pushes the pants aside and stares down at me. "What are you hiding from?" He asks calmly.

I want to kick him. I want to kick him in his perfect face and run. What am I hiding from? He kidnapped me from my bed! When I cried, he shot something into my butt and now I'm somewhere I don't recognize! "Why..." I ask quietly, staring up at him. He offers me what looks like a sympathetic smile, I'm not buying it, and he offers me a hand. "Just come out of the closet, and we will discuss this like adults." He tells me. I glare up at him, my arms still tightly wrapped around my legs. "We're past talking like adults when you drugged me." I tell him as angrily as I can muster.

Slowly, far too slowly, this man gets down on one knee. He holds onto one of his thighs as he drops to the other knee. As if he's steadying himself. "I suppose you're right. Fine. Let's discuss this like adults, or I'm going to drug you again. You'll wake up strapped to a chair where we can have this talk." He says much more sternly.

All the warmth I felt from this man, it's gone. The sweet man that gave me apple cider, the man that drove me home and made sure I had some water. Now he's staring at me like he wants to sell my organs. It's somehow more terrifying when he's so close to me and I can see the murderous look in his eyes. How have I never noticed that one eye is a warm, soft blue while the other is a cold icy silver? Is it like a split personality thing? Is that why he's so inviting and sweet half of the time and times like right now he's terrifying and calculated? "Fine." I say through gritted teeth. I'll let him talk, but then I'm finding a way out of this room.

Leon stands up, gripping onto that same thigh as he does. A weakness, maybe one I can exploit? If he has a bum knee, maybe I can kick it and run? "I suggest whatever you're thinking of trying. You don't." He tells me. He offers me his hand again, but I don't want to touch him. Instead I crawl out from the closet and stand up. When he takes a step towards me, I take one back. But he gets the idea. He backs away and sits at the desk in the room. I sit on the small cushioned window sill. "You live here now." He tells me. "The heck I do!" I shout at him, standing up and crossing my arms across my chest. He sighs, pointing towards where I was sitting again. "No. I want to go home!" I shout at him.

Leon stands up, towering over me. "Sit down!" He yells. The coldness of his voice scares me, the look in his eyes as well. The warm blue one and the icy silver eyes glare at me with so much determination that I sit and gulp down the fear that is almost paralyzing. "You don't have a home. That skank of a roommate threw you out. You can't afford another place. You can't even afford to feed yourself properly. This is your home, and I will provide for you. When I decide I can trust you, we can be a normal couple. Until then, you're done with school." He says.

I curl my legs up to my chest again, feeling hopeless and lost. "Finals are this week. If I don't take my finals, I have to start this year over." I say quietly. He has no idea what he's about to take from me. Other than my life. If he thinks he's doing this to make me happy, he's ruining me.

Leon stands up, moving to sit next to me. But I don't even register what he's doing. Not until I feel something cold and metal around my neck. A necklace? It's solid metal and slightly snug around my neck, I even hear him lock it into place and stuff a small key in his pocket afterward. I reach up, touching this necklace that is apparently a permanent fixture on my body now. I wonder if he'll attach a chain to it and drag me around like a dog. Will he make me crawl for him? Eat out of a bowl on the floor? Is this the crap he's into? "This stays on until I can trust you. Don't worry, nobody will know what it's for." He tells me calmly. I feel his hand on my back, but I feel too stuck to move. I'm wearing a fancy version of a collar, and I am missing out on college. "It won't be so bad, ma petite fleur. You'll like living here. I promise." He tells me. He squeezes my shoulder lightly and gets up and leaves. I don't hear the lock of the door, maybe I can sneak away?

I have to try, right?

Chapter 23

Leon's POV

I have to leave her alone to process. I know she'll be upset, fuck she already is upset. But she'll accept what her life has become. I'm positive she'll grow to like it, even. I head towards the kitchen, intending to make her something to eat. I know it will help her stomach, I'm sure she feels a little uneasy since I was forced to sedate her when she was already dealing with a hangover.

Maeve heads down the hallway, tip-toeing while I cook. I don't mind if she explores our home, I want her to be comfortable here. I intentionally don't acknowledge her as she goes around the dining room to avoid the kitchen.

To avoid me.

That's fine, I will give her the space she needs, for now. I hear her go through the living room and to the back door. I gotta give her credit for being bold. I set the knife down, heading towards her. "I wouldn't advise going too far. It will hurt if you run." I warn calmly. She takes off in a sprint when she hears my voice. Toward what? I live on a dead-end road in the middle of nowhere! Sighing, I take off after her.

I don't want to hurt Maeve, but I don't want her to hurt herself. I tackle her into the grass, rolling us so I'm under her and can take the impact of the hit. "No! Let me go, butthead!" She yells, kneeing me in the fucking nuts! God dammit that always hurts!

She takes off running again while I hold my balls in my hand, groaning in pain. But a few seconds later, I hear my girl scream before hitting the ground. I hop up, running towards her. I grip onto her ankle, yanking her back. Back into the perimeter of the wireless electric fence that I know just shocked the ever loving shit out of her. That's what her collar is. It's not only the transmitter for the wireless fence, but it's a GPS. I hated the thought of hurting her, but I hate the thought of losing her more.

I straddle Maeve's ass as she lays face down in the grass. "Did you just call me a butthead?" I ask with a laugh. I've never heard a twenty-one year old call someone a butthead before. Fuck, I've never heard anyone above the age of five use that as an insult. It's kind of adorable that she doesn't cuss. But right now, she's suffering. "I told you not to run." I remind her. She kicks me in the back a few times, but it doesn't do much. "Now we're going to deal with what happens when you run from me." I tell her calmly. How does she expect me to take the collar off if she runs? I lift up onto my knees, gripping her sweatpants and yanking the waistband down until that gorgeous thick ass is on display for me. "What are you doing?" She yells at me. She kicks me again but a few hits to my back won't hurt me. It won't stop me either.

I unbutton my pants, stroking my cock a few times. I lean down, letting my erection press into her ass. "I'm going to fuck you, obviously. You need to learn the rules around here, ma petite fleur. But I don't need a fucking mask or duct tape to beat every little fantasy you've ever had. If you run from me again, and it will be your ass I'm fucking in the yard, and I will get the duct tape that you want so badly." I say into her ear.

I want her to know that I know about her little drunken fantasy. I'll happily wear a mask and chasema petitefleur through our property. I'll happily duct tape her legs so far apart that her thighs burn from the stretch while I fuck her pretty little pussy until she begs for mercy. But I don't need all that to make her cum harder than any man ever has. She'll find out soon enough.

Maeve kicks me a few more times, but she doesn't scream or stop me. Deep down, I know she wants this. She has to. I reach down between her legs, running my fingers along her smooth cunt that I've missed so much. Fuck, she's wet. She's still fighting my hold, but she wants this. She can lie and say she doesn't want this, doesn't want me, but her dripping cunt tells me the truth. I guide my cock into her, hearing her let out a strangled gasp, kicking me again. But again, she doesn't tell me to stop and I know that she won't.