Xavier can’t hurt me anymore. He can’t touch me, cut me, or use me. He’s a
pitiful soul posing as a powerful being. Soon, I will remind him that he is only a
man, and I am the reaper forged beneath his own hands.
“I can help relax you if you’d like,” Xavier suggests from beside me, his voice deepening. “There are private rooms to your left.”
“Okay,” I agree quietly.
He grabs my hand, the touch of his skin sending a cold chill throughout my
body. I’d forgotten how dead he feels. He pulls me toward a double set of doors
in the corner of the room. Subtly, I glance back to Zade, finding him in a full-face mask. All black with geometric points, a dramatic frown, and a slash through the eye. His yin-yang eyes are hidden, only bottomless pits where they should be.
Admittedly, he looks terrifying. And I’d be lying if I said that didn’t spark something low in my stomach, sinking between my thighs.
Turning away, I focus as Xavier leads us into a hallway full of black doors.
It’s deathly silent in here.
“Soundproof rooms,” Xavier supplies, glancing back at me with a wicked
smirk on his face.
I bite my lip, my nerves running wild as he walks us into a private room. The
white walls are tinted blue from the LED lights surrounding the ceiling. A single
black bed sits in the middle with handcuffs on the headboard and footboard. And
a dresser is next to it, likely filled with different kinds of toys.
“Should I be worried that these rooms are soundproof, Xavier?” I ask, no longer concerned with him recognizing my voice.
He slowly turns his head to me, his blue eyes widened with surprise. Even beneath the mask, he can’t hide his reaction.
“I see my diamond has come back to me,” he drawls, his lips curling into a
smile. His eyes drop to my body, taking his time as he slowly takes me in, pausing on the rose tattoo on my forearm.
“My god, you look fantastic. Must be why I didn’t immediately recognize
you.” His eyes kick up to my hair. “And your hair is darker. Can’t say I’m a fan
of that.”
“Truly, I’m hurt,” I respond dryly.
Anger flashes across his irises. That reaction makes the smile impossible to contain.
He nods his head, seemingly to himself.
“I suspect you’ve come back to kill me.”
I cock my head. “You think I could?” I query, though I’m not the least bit interested in his approval.
He laughs, tipping his head back and exposing his throat. One slash to the jugular. That’s all I’d need. But I don’t want to kill Xavier.
Not tonight, I don’t.
His laugh tapers, and if I were breathing any louder, I wouldn’t have heard the subtle click from behind me.
I turn, my heart dropping when I tug on the handle, finding that he locked the
door. Which means it’s automated.
“I’m good friends with the owner here,” Xavier explains darkly. “If we want a
little extra time with the girls than they’re willing to give, we have… means to
get them to stay a little longer.”
I face Xavier again, noting his hand in his pocket. He must have some type of
button in there to engage the locks.
My pulse is hammering, but I force my chin high, exuding a confidence I’m
having trouble feeling.
This… was not something Zade, or I, was aware of. One of the biggest rules
in this club is no locks to offer security and comfort to the women. Seems the owner is a slimy bastard and knows how to hide it. Makes me wonder how many women have gotten trapped in these rooms, and how they were kept silent. The
reputation of Supple is impeccable, which means their scare tactics are effective.
“You locked the doors,” I say aloud so Zade can hear me.
“The fuck did you just say, baby?” His voice comes in a second later, and I
just know he’s rushing toward my door.
In order to protect the privacy of those who use private rooms, they don’t allow cameras in here. And surprisingly, there’s not even a shady camera hidden in the room like Zade would have thought. Which means now that I’m locked in
here, he won’t be able to see a damn thing that happens.
Adrenaline pumps into my system, and dread pools in my gut.
I may be stronger than I was, but that doesn’t mean that PTSD doesn’t have
me by the throat still. Trauma isn’t something that just poofs away. I’ve been
improving, but it’s a work in progress, and I have a sick feeling Xavier will roundhouse kick me back into that dark place it took me weeks to crawl out of.
He’s the boogeyman in my nightmares. The face I can’t get out of my head.
The things he put me through were far worse than any of the things Rocco and
his friends did to me. What he did to me was fucking personal.
I wasn’t just another body being passed around from man to man. I was a possession that he took his sweet time with. He drew out my suffering for as long as he could, and those are the moments that haunt me most.
I pleaded for a death he’d never grant me, giving him power over a life that
was never his to take.
But I refuse to cower now. I refuse to give him any control over me ever again. Tonight, I’m going to take back that power and make him wish he’d just stuck the knife in my fucking throat.
The doorknob wiggles behind me, attracting Xavier’s attention. I seize the opportunity and drive my fist directly into his nose in a snap movement.
His head knocks back, eyes bulging with surprise. Before he can recover, I’m
lunging at him, landing another punch to his stomach and then to his temple.
He roars, his arm whipping out and catching me on the side of my head, the
gold ring on his finger slicing across my cheek. Blood pours from his nose as he
tackles me, a snarl on his face.
We land against the door harshly, knocking the breath from my lungs. He then
grips me by the biceps and throws me with all his strength, pure rage on his face.
I fly to the ground, crying out as I land awkwardly on my shoulder, my temple knocking on the tile floor. Stars explode in my vision, drowning out Zade’s now panicked voice in my ear.