Beautiful Tears (Enemies to Lovers - Dark Romance Book 1), page 8
My mind wandered back to the paddle. Had Harper enjoyed her spanking, propped up at the foot of the four-poster bed? If I was a betting man, and I wasn't, I'd say she had. The trouble was, she was already wet before we started, so I couldn't be sure that spanking turned her on. The woman hadn't started bawling, but she'd had experience with BDSM before. This wasn't new to her. My conscience be damned, I was going to have fun unravelling her, piece by piece, before sinking deep inside her - anywhere inside her. The thought made me crazy. But not for another six days. Well, how hard could that be? For the next two days I wasn't going anywhere near her except to deliver food, and after that the trials would begin in earnest. I had so many great things planned for her. She should count herself lucky that I was giving her forty-eight hours to catch up on some sleep. She'd need it. The woman wasn't going to get much rest after that.
Turning around, wondering what room I should explore next, a circular piece of furniture caught my eye. Propped up on four artfully curved legs, it was a small cabinet surrounded by wooden slats and glass panelling. The top was just a round oak tray. Delightful as it was, that wasn't what had caught my eye. The interior was full to bursting with every spirit imaginable. Hallelujah! I'd just won the jackpot. Searching around for a bottle of whisky, I grabbed a Scottish malt by the neck and hightailed it back to the kitchen. All I needed now was a glass and a decent helping of ice. Who needed beer when they had a bottle of the good stuff nearby? Now I just had to find a working television.
Chapter 14 - Harper
When the lights went out I nearly had a fit. Today's events had been mind-blowing by anyone's standards, but to be left naked down a cellar in the pitch-black darkness had just about finished me off. My left arm still throbbed miserably and the utter humiliation I'd felt as Brandt had put his hands all over me still hadn't left me. I felt hot and cold, all at the same time. What was that all about?
I pulled frantically at the chain around my neck when he left me, desperately trying to wrench the thing from the wall, but the metal refused to budge and the padlock was going nowhere. I finally accepted I was here until Brandt chose to release me, and that was a scary thought. What if there was a fire and the house burned down to the ground? Mind you, it was so damp and cold down here that the fire would have to have a serious attitude problem before it took hold. But that wasn't exactly a comforting thought.
After I had exhausted myself trying to escape, there was little to do bar sit and think. The only thing I wanted to do was burst into floods of tears and drown in self-pity. It was also the one thing I couldn't do. At some point a chance to escape would present itself. It might not be for a year, maybe even two, but that point would come, and I was going to be ready.
Snatching the thin blanket I wrapped it twice around me. It didn't provide much protection from the cold, but anything was better than nothing. Brandt intended to make me suffer in every way, it appeared.
Wondering if there were rats down here, or if Brandt was trying to scare me, I scanned the floor in front of me. I could barely see past the bars in front of my nose, so I held out little hope that I'd see anything smaller. He was probably lying, anyway. There might be the odd spider, but I didn't think the previous owners would have left the house infested with rats. I crossed my fingers, just to be on the safe side.
My stomach chose that moment to growl. It wanted food. When was the last time I had eaten? I could hardly count yesterday evening because I'd immediately brought up my meal with the stress of being homeless. Now I faced a whole two days without food. What about drink? Surely he wouldn't leave me without some water? Hysteria started bubbling up my throat again. I must try and look at things positively.
Well, I had a roof over my head and very cheap lodgings for the next five years. He hadn't murdered me yet, which was another plus. Oh, and he was drop-dead gorgeous, although I think that was more of a curse than a blessing. Then there was the fact that he turned me on, and it appeared he might like depraved sex. Was that a positive? The jury was out on that; it depended upon how depraved he was. But by the looks of things, I estimated he was at the higher end of the scale.
Shuffling towards the wall, my back connected with a box of some sort. Squinting my eyes to try and decipher what it was, I tried to reach it with my arms, only to find that the chain didn't allow me enough movement. Damn Brandt and his bloody revenge. How long did he intend to keep me tied up like an animal? He didn't seriously expect to stow me down here for five years, surely? Would he grow bored of the game eventually? Time would tell.
Putting my foot on top of the box, which appeared to be made of cardboard, I dragged it towards me until it was within grasping distance. Anything he might have decided to leave for me was sure to be vile, so when the box was finally underneath my fingertips I was unsure whether to open it or not. Picking it up, I sniffed at it and then shook it. The only thing I managed to figure out was that there were several items inside. What could he possibly want to give me, other than a heart attack?
Opening the box slowly and with a good deal of trepidation, it was with surprise that I found food inside it. I had to run my hands over the items several times, to make sure I didn't imagine them. Sure enough, there was a sandwich, a bottle of water, a yogurt, a small squidgy rectangle that I guessed was cheese, and an apple. Tears pooled in my eyes. An apple. How long ago had it been since I'd had a piece of fruit all to myself? Putting the apple up to my nose, I just sat there and inhaled it for a few minutes. Wanting to smile and cry at the same time, I breathed in my apple for the better part of five minutes. It was one of the crisp, green, crunchy varieties, and probably a Granny Smith. The last time I'd had one would have been several months ago. When you don't have much money, expensive things like fruit are the first things to go. I'd filled up on bread, noodles, rice and soup for months. There was the occasional tin of beans, some potatoes, and some cheap crackers when they were on offer. I wasn't sure I even remembered what an apple tasted like.
Worshipping my prize for the better part of half an hour as I mulled over the day's events, I finally got around to taking a bite. It was my first taste of heaven in what seemed like a very dark couple of years. The fact that it happened in a makeshift prison cell didn't deter me from my enjoyment. Tart, fragrant acidity exploded on my tongue. It was a taste of summer, of better times, of childhood and play. Memories came flooding back to me, bittersweet, those of kinder times and softer landings. These days I felt like a walking disaster. It was almost as if every time I moved I was destined for failure.
Sitting back on the bed, almost shivering under my blanket, I wondered what lengths Brandt would go to in order to gain my testimony. Would he still release me after five years without it? He looked like a man on the edge, and that didn't bode well. That was the least of my worries, though. I was naked and in chains. Soon my body was going to be his plaything, however much he might hate me. Would he use sex as a weapon? Of course he would. I had no right to expect otherwise. Could I endure that for any length of time? He would use me ruthlessly, there was no question about that. When I ultimately didn't do what he wanted, would he snap? Was it right for me to deny him the life he was entitled to, in order to save mine? What was my life worth anyway? I was beginning to wonder if I might as well put everyone out of their misery. You can't think like that. You've come too far. I hadn't come far enough. I was going around in circles.
I ate every last bite of that apple, and by that I mean I ate it all. The core, the seeds, the stalk, everything was too precious to waste. Mind you, I was careful not to chew the seeds. I'd read somewhere that apple seeds released cyanide when chewed or crushed. That's how I amused myself when I had no money; books. The library down the road was free, so my favourite pastime became reading. Whatever the subject I could read for hours on end, and my mind was adrift with all sorts of wonderful, and for the most part useless knowledge.
Rummaging about in the box, I tackled the yogurt next. Snapping off the plastic spoon attached to the lid, I peeled back the foil and inhaled. It was nothing fancy, just plain yogurt, but even that was magical to me. Thick and creamy on my tongue, with the faintest aftertaste of lemon, it wasn't long before I was completely full. Had I not been jumpy with nerves I might have been able to eat something else, but with just one bucket for company I had no desire to make myself sick. I could eat the rest of the box when I woke up in the morning. Besides, just because Brandt had fed me today, there was no guarantee that he would tomorrow. Drinking half of the water I then refastened the top tightly. Today's waterworks had left me dehydrated, but I wanted to ration my supplies until the morning. I wasn't sure if I would see Brandt in the next two days, so it made sense to be cautious.
Grabbing the bucket beside the bed, I quickly relieved myself and then placed it as far out of reach as I dared. If I pushed it too far away there was a risk I wouldn't be able to reach it or would kick it over when I next needed it. Life was bad enough as it was, so I didn't intend to make it any worse.
Rolling into a tight ball on the hard mattress I tried my best to relax. After the events of the day it was almost impossible, but somehow, despite my shivers, I eventually manage to get a few fitful hours of sleep. My dreams, when they came, were angry, nasty and filled with terror. The nightmares were back in vengeance.
Chapter 15 - Brandt
Hitting the gym at 5:30am, I welcomed the chance to expend some energy. Harper had been playing on my mind all evening, and I'd barely gotten any sleep because of the girl. My cock was having fantasies it couldn't cash. One moment I was telling myself that under no circumstances was I going to go near her, and in the next my hands were all over her. She didn't deserve me, or my body, even in the basest sense, but my control was a fragile thing. Blame it on five years of celibacy. Perhaps I should have gone wild with Liam in London, back when I had the chance.
As soon as the thought entered my head, I dismissed it. There was only one woman who would be able to take what I had to offer, and that was mainly because she had no choice. Some days I felt as if the darkness was taking over. The constant battle to keep my desires in check was growing, and soon, unless I was very careful, I would snap. That couldn't happen for at least another week.
Finishing my tenth set of presses on the flat bench, I then began some cable crossovers. I'd wondered if my enthusiasm for fitness would diminish once I left prison, but the opposite appeared to be true. With Harper under my roof I seemed to have more energy than ever, and the small gym I'd had installed on the ground floor was getting a hammering. Maybe, I'd go out for a run later. With the hills around here that was sure to help me calm down a little.
After I'd played around with some free weights and a set of eighteen-kilogram kettlebells, I decided enough was enough. It was time to get something to eat and a much-needed cup of coffee.
Breakfast was just a protein shake with a scoop of oatmeal and a banana. It took no more than a couple of minutes to prepare, and then I was sitting in front of my computer screen, reviewing last night's footage of my captive. I was going to learn everything there was to learn about Harper Wilkinson, and then I would exploit each and every detail to its fullest extent.
Watching the video in front of me, I was surprised to find that Harper had not dissolved into a puddle beneath her bed. Women are different to men, in my opinion. They don't feel the need to hide and box up their emotions, and when upset, they generally let it show. Harper had not succumbed to tears last night, although she had several times in the van. I almost felt cheated. I wanted her tears, freely flowing, and I wanted that pretty face to be sobbing its heart out. I'd never thought of tears as beautiful before, but on Harper they were something simply astounding. A tortured form of beauty or bruised beauty perhaps, but no less magnificent for it. Tears were something my family were never allowed to indulge in. My father always said they were a form of weakness; an indulgence he wouldn't permit. If we wanted to survive in the real world we would need to be strong, he said. That was good enough advice, I guessed, but a little on the harsh side at six years of age when you'd just taken a tumble. Sighing, I pushed my thoughts forward and stared at the screen.
Bar the tears, everything progressed as I'd thought it would. She scrabbled around madly for a bit, starting clawing the walls, and tested the strength of the metal chain she wore by tugging at it ferociously. For such a small thing, she certainly had a lot of grit and determination. I couldn't help but admire her spirit. Then she wrapped herself up in the blanket and sat there rocking for a moment or two until she spotted the food parcel I'd left her. At first she seemed reluctant to open it, and I guess I was responsible for that. But did she honestly think I was going to starve her? Yes, I might be a monster, one of her creation I might add, but there was still some humanity left in me somewhere.
When she finally gathered the courage to open the parcel, I watched as she hugged the apple close to her chest, almost as if inhaling its scent. Was it comforting, perhaps? A familiar scent, the smell of home? Whatever it was, it certainly meant something to her, because that apple stayed in front of her nose for what seemed like forever. When she finally did get around to eating it, she ate like a starving man. A yogurt quickly followed, with a few sips of water and then she pushed the box away. I didn't get it. How could you be hungry enough to eat an entire apple, pips and all, and then not eat everything in front of you? Sure, she ate the yogurt, but I was damned if I could figure her out. Was she on one of those faddy diets? Paleo, low-carb, something like that? When I went in there in a few minutes' time with her breakfast, I'd make her eat the rest of the contents of that box, and then she could have the meal I'd just prepared for her. She was not starving herself on my watch.
The rest of the video was mainly fractured sleep. She obviously had a nightmare because there was wailing and thrashing about, and I was probably to blame for that too. But I refused to feel guilty. I'd had my fair share of nightmares on the other side, and my only crime had been to befriend Harper Wilkinson. It was a mistake I would not make again. Under no circumstances was I getting close to her. Everything would be done at arm's length, and after I'd got her to testify she'd be out of my life for good. There was no way that woman had five years of imprisonment inside her. She'd crack in under a week, two at the most. I just needed to be patient.
Putting a pan of oatmeal on the stove to boil, I then began loading up the dishwasher. The cereal was nothing special, literally one cup of rolled oats and two cups of milk, but the woman was going to eat it. She'd also get a banana, and that should see her through to lunchtime, giving me plenty of time for a run. I was wired to explode at any second, and I felt like a grenade that someone had already hooked their finger into. The hard physical activity would relax me, and a run through the Scottish hills was pretty magical to boot. It would allow me a chance to scout out the surrounding area and make sure there was no way Harper could escape. After her two days was up I'd give her a little more freedom, but anything extra would be dependent on good behaviour. I didn't expect much of that for the next few days, though. She'd be testing boundaries at first. Smirking, I scooped the softened oatmeal into a plastic bowl. She could test me all she liked. There was little chance she'd be winning any battles. Grabbing a plastic spork, I laid it on the tray with the banana and added another bottle of water. A spork was a cross between a spoon and a fork, and prison issue because it was really hard to do any damage with it. She wouldn't be chiselling any marks on the walls with this beast, that was for sure.
Making my way down to the cellar, I wondered what kind of mood Harper would be in when she saw me. It was either going to be anger or fear. Thankfully she didn't have much to throw at me, bar an empty bottle of water or a cardboard box. Heaven help her if she decided to throw the bucket. I would let her know, in no uncertain terms, who was boss around here and she wouldn't like my methods much.
When I turned on the light and began descending the stairs, I listened carefully for any signs of life. There was nothing. She'd been asleep when I turned my laptop off, so I guessed she still was now. If that were the case, I'd just drop the oatmeal and run. We could discuss eating everything I put in front of her later. Besides, I wasn't supposed to be doing much in the way of interaction for the next thirty-six hours, but if it came down to eating properly, I would put my foot down.
Rounding the corner my eyes immediately centred on the bed, but Harper wasn't where I expected her to be. In the few minutes since I'd turned my computer off, she was now awake and... jumping up and down. It was probably to keep warm because it seemed to be bitterly cold down here. I made a mental note to get her another blanket. While I wanted her to suffer, I didn't want her to come down with hypothermia.
Her face turned around to meet mine as soon as she heard my footsteps. Clutching the blanket tighter around her body she began backing away from me, though she had virtually nowhere to go.
"Pass me the box and you can have breakfast," I barked. So much for my no interaction rule; I'd kept it up for less than twelve hours. Oh well, I suspected things were going to get worse before they got better. Heaven help the woman if that box had any food left in it.
Harper gave me a mutinous look. I wondered whether I was about to get the bucket thrown at me, but then she grabbed the box from the end of her mattress and looked at me, shrugging her shoulders. She hadn't spotted the slot I'd had specially made under the door, and that was no great surprise, seeing as how the room had been in darkness for most of her time here.
