The Dark Forest: A Collection Of Erotic Fairytales(124)
Looking down, she wrinkled her nose at what she saw. The tray on the floor held a plastic cup of what looked like water, and a simple sandwich. Unidentifiable meat between white bread. She wanted to leave it, to be like one of those people who did hunger strikes to stand for something, but her throat was so fucking dry. The result of whatever he’d drugged her with along with all of the screaming.
Don’t think about that right now.
Sliding to the floor beside it, she watched the food for a while, debating inside as to whether she should risk it, as if the disgusting little sandwich might suddenly start talking so she wasn’t just going around in circles by herself. It could all be drugged, poisoned, but as terrible as he had been, he seemed to want her alive. Deciding to test it, she committed to a single taste of each, but the first sip of water undid her. As her stomach growled, she emptied the cup and hurried to refill it from the corner before she ate the sandwich in slow bites, hunkered down across the room from the door.
Weak, weak, weak.
As the simple food settled, her head seemed clearer, the cobwebs fading away, but along with the clarity came the return of the panic. He had made videos. Was the man really sending them to her father? Was he sending them to other people, or posting them across the internet? Had she really come underneath him as he’d forced her over the couch?
The soreness between her legs and the sudden wash of shame verified the last part, but only time would answer the first. A sickening twist of her stomach almost brought the sandwich back up. She couldn’t imagine her father seeing those videos, either one, and the worst part of it all was that she knew the man wasn’t done. If he were done, she’d be out of the damn room—or she’d be dead.
That was not something she was interested in waiting for.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked towards the ceiling, making eye contact with one of the red dots that floated near the recessed lights that were far out of reach. When no response came, she felt a flash of anger. “Hey! Asshole! Why the fuck are you doing this to me?!”
The dull silence that echoed back at her was infuriating. She’d always gone out of her way to be kind, to know the names of the people who worked for her father. There was never a time she left out a please or a thank you, and she was proud of that. Hell, she called her father’s head of security Uncle Will. She wasn’t like her stuck up friends, so caught up in their wealth they didn’t even bother to try. Yet, here she was, naked, bruised, alone.
Rage prodded her and made her growl at the unfairness of it all.
“I don’t even know who you are!” Rebecca stood and screamed at a different camera. “I haven’t done a fucking thing to you, so what’s your problem? Are you mad that we have money? Angry that my father is successful? What the fuck do you think my father did to you?”
Her voice was raw, the lingering ache in her throat from his rough chokeholds made her run out of steam faster than she wanted, but nothing happened. Tearing her fingers into her hair, she pulled at the roots like she could hold herself together if she could just keep her head from coming apart. Emotion roared through her as the situation settled over her. Kidnapped, assaulted, and being used as a pawn against her father.
“Talk to me, you son of a bitch!” Reaching down, she snagged the tray off the floor and threw it at one of the cameras—it missed—but the television flared to life showing a vibrant number five.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” She walked over to the television and slammed her hands against the plastic case that protected it. The number ticked down to four, and then continued dropping. “Is this the deal, you’ll only talk to me when you have me pinned down or tied up? You and your delusional bullshit—”
The screen showed a one, turned red, and then flicked off, just before the heavy metal door opened.
Rebecca turned fast and forced herself to hold her ground. His dark outline in the doorframe made her stomach flip flop, but she swallowed down the sudden nausea. “I want answers.”
“No, Rapunzel, you don’t.” His voice was clear and threatening, but she stayed strong.
“What do you think my father did to you? Why are you doing this?”
“I don’t think anything, I know, and I’m sick of listening to you shouting. Shut the fuck up, or I’ll gag you.” He had one large, gloved hand on the door to hold it open, and she could see a plain looking cement hallway behind him. Nothing helpful.
“Then why not just fucking tell me? Just tell me why you’re doing this!”
“Don’t push me, princess.”
“Why not? Are you going to kill me?” She wasn’t sure where the question had come from, but it was somewhere deep inside her, somewhere underneath all of the helpful logic she’d been nursing since she’d woken up. When he laughed, a low and sinister sound, Rebecca took a step backwards.
“No.” His head tilted. “Not yet anyway. Now, are you going to be a good girl and keep your fucking mouth shut until I tell you to speak?”
“Go fuck yourself,” she spat, and then he stepped into the room. Backing away fast, she tried to circle him, to stay out of his reach, but her back collided with the wall when he suddenly lengthened his strides. With a quick jerk, he had a fistful of her long hair and he threw her to the floor. Landing on her side, she tried to scramble away, but he was on top of her too quickly. One hand caught her throat and squeezed as he dropped between her thighs, forcing her legs open.