Page 68 of Shattered In Darkness

Someone took me here, but who would do this? I know Marcus has enemies, but I am not Marcus. I am just his trapped step-daughter. His puppet. If someone has a problem with Marcus, they should go to Marcus about it.

“Is someone out there? Let me out of here!” I bang on the door. Whoever took me has to be out there still. Surely, they did not leave me here to die?

After a few minutes of begging, I huff in frustration and walk back to the mattress. I pull my knees up to my chest and wait. Alone in the silence. It is suffocating. My eyes dart everywhere, watching the shadows on the walls. Lately, I have been wishing to be alone. To be away from Marcus. I got my wish in a cruel way that feels like a death sentence.

I didn’t know how fast one cage could turn into a worse cage.

I became lost in the abyss of my thoughts, until finally, the door opens. A tall, and broad figure stands at the doorway. Just staring. He tilts his head and watches me.

Leaping up on my feet, I storm towards him. “Hey! I don’t know who the fuck you are, but you need to let me out of here. My step-father is a powerful man and I know he will be looking for me. You’re a dead man when he finds me.”

The man only chuckles, then walks down the steps towards me. His face is hidden behind a skull mask. Despite the situation, I clench between my thighs.

I always had a thing for men in masks.

The man steps closer. So close to where I can feel the rage radiating from him. “Oh, I know exactly what kind of man he is. And I know what kind of woman you are, Lola Bloom. He won’t find you here. I am going to keep you here and I am going to fucking destroy Marcus Bloom. Even if it means ruining the one thing he holds dearest to his heart. You.”

I widen my eyes. I can feel the rapid pulse of my heart, how it is beating out of my chest. I wonder, does he hear it too? Is he getting off on it?

“I don’t know what Marcus did to you, but I can assure you that I am not involved with anything that man does. He is a monster. That’s all he is to me.” I try to stand my ground and look like I’m not about to shit myself. I gaze at him and stare through the holes in his mask. I can just barely make out his eyes.

Glimmering with fury and hunger.

The man holds eye contact. “Marcus took away everything good in my life. He ruined me. Whether you’re with him or not, I’ll make sure he knows I ruined you in return.”

I gulp. He could mean anything.

“How will you ruin me?”

He chuckles again. It’s a low, dark sound. He walks closer, and I back up. My back hits the cold wall, my legs trembling. He takes my wrists and pins them against the wall, leaning in close, his breath by my ear.

“Oh, darling, you don’t want to know. I’ll have you fucking begging to be released out into the cold.” He pushes against me harder, and I can feel a hardness growing in his pants. I feel sick. This is turning him on. “I’m going to make you squirm, make you cry, make you ache, make you wish you were anywhere but here.”

I want to scream.

But part of me remembers this. Remembers the wolf and the woods and the shape of a man who wanted to break me open, devour me, taste all the soft inside parts. That same electric rush, the same sick, sick craving.

The skull mask presses into my hair. His body crushes me tighter. My ribs spark with pain and something else. He grabs my wrists, spins me to the mattress. I shove at him, but I am nothing against his weight.

I try to roll away but am rewarded with his cruel laugh. “You scared, pretty thing?”

Of course I am. Every inch prickles. I want to dissociate, float away, become boneless. But I can’t. The fear holds me to the world.

“What do you want from me?” My voice comes out shredded, bloody at the edges. Not loud, not strong. A pathetic sound.

He barks a laugh. The skull grins. “You’re not getting rescued, Lola.”

My name, in his mouth, slices me up. He didn’t ask. He knows me. I try to swallow the scream.

I twist, but he just presses my arms up harder. My ribs grind against concrete, and my jaw aches. His shadow eats the whole room. “Let me out of here. I’m worth nothing to you. I’m a problem. You’ll regret this.”

“Not a chance.” He tilts his head. I see the glimmer in his eyes behind the mask, endless and sick. “You’re the only leverage that matters.”

He shifts his weight. The rest of his body pins me in place. I feel every inch of muscle, every inch of threat. My heart wants to punch through my ribs. It hammers so stupidly loud I know he must hear it. Can predators smell panic? Can they taste fear on your tongue? I bet he can. He probably lives for the flavor.

The pressure of his grip gets meaner, less careful. “You can beg, if you want. Or you can scream. Nobody’s coming.”

He does not say Marcus can’t find me. He says nobody. He means it.