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Authors: Lily White,Dawn Robertson

The Good Girl (5 page)

BOOK: The Good Girl
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I pushed the door open farther as I entered, but then shut it behind me, locking it to prevent her escape. Her eyes widened and she stared at me silently. Her face was ashen and she appeared sick. When she hugged her arms around her abdomen, I wondered if it was fear that hurt her or the effects of the alcohol from the night before. I could see that her body was shaking and I wasn’t positive that I was the cause.

“Good Morning.”

She opened her mouth to talk – reconsidered for a split second – and then the word vomit began.

“Listen. I have no idea who the fuck you are, or why I’m here or what we did, but I want to go home now. If you locked the door on accident – then, fine. We’re cool. But I really just need you to give me my stuff so I can go.”

I breathed in slowly and back out again. My arms were crossed over my chest while I attempted to speak calmly to a little girl who thought she held the control. “You’re not going home, Eleni. You’re staying here for a while.”

She stilled and I watched anger, frustration and fear flit across her expression. When she didn’t answer immediately, a grin pulled at my lips. What was once anxiety for having to confront her suddenly became excitement for finally getting the chance to talk to her. Sure – I could have approached her in public, I could have talked her into giving me her number – but it wasn’t easy with a girl like her. I’d watched her take men in the bathroom or alleyway behind her bar on many nights. I’ll admit I followed – that I would watch in the shadow of the alley while she had her brains fucked out by some muscle-bound, tattooed asshole. Those men were okay with saying goodbye once the deed was done; but I wasn’t. I wanted to experience everything about her. Her screams while she fucked, the feel of her body wrapped around me…I wanted to know her happiness just so I could know what it felt like to strip it entirely away.

I smiled thinking that it was just the beginning between us. I had no job, no family and I had very few, if any, real friends. My lack of a life gave me all the time in the world to focus on her – my newest project.

“Like I said, asshole, give me my shit and let me leave. I’ll walk the fuck out of here, I just need my clothes.”

“You’re not leaving.”

I was surprised when she rushed me. Her hands were extended in front of her and she shoved me against the door. When I felt her fingernails rake down my face, I growled in anger. My hand was around her throat instantly and my other wrapped into her thick hair. Picking her up by her head, I carried her the few feet to the bed and dropped her down on the mattress.

But I wasn’t done. My anger was seething and my desire to hurt was festering at the back of my mind. It was at that moment that the fucking voices started. As I looked down at my beautiful helpless girl, I heard the hidden parts of myself whisper. Rape, death, pain … pleasure - they wanted it all and they wanted it with her.

She choked and sputtered, curling herself into a fetal position; desperate to protect herself from whatever physical violence I’d think up next.

Her body started to retch in front of me. Before I could react, she pushed up from the bed and ran into the bathroom. I heard her vomit – over and over – until the sound was nothing more than her body convulsing in attempt to force up more.

Pacing the bedroom, I fought in my head with demons that wanted to take control. They had their victim – their target. I breathed deeply again, trying to clear my thoughts of the chaos. When I could no longer hear her getting sick, I step into the bathroom. I found her hunched over the toilet – her hands gripping desperately to the sides of the porcelain. When she could move again, she lifted her shirt to wipe her mouth. Her eyes were trained on me and I locked my stare to hers as I walked across the room to get a toothbrush from under the sink.

Holding it out to her, I said, “You might want this.”

“Fuck you, dick!”

I found her response to be … unfortunate.

Dropping the toothbrush in the sink, I stormed towards her and grabbed her thick hair once again. The chaos in my head was too loud, too sudden – my anger bloomed inside me and took over. I pinned her to the wall, my hand running up her kicking leg. She stilled when I reach her hip, my thumb running across her panties.

“I’d take you up on that offer if you didn’t smell like alcohol and vomit.”

When she started to fight again, I tossed her in the shower. Her head cracked against the glass enclosure and I grimaced to think how it must have felt – but she asked for it so I didn’t feel bad about having done it. If she was going to act like a little bitch – I would treat her like one, it was that simple.

Stepping forward, I turned on the water. It was cold and she screamed.

I laughed at the sound.

“It would have been warmer if you’d given me a second. But you fought against me, so you’ll have to feel the initial cold.” My words were broken apart by my amusement.

She glared up at me and I glared back down at her. This relationship was turning out to be fun.

When she realized she wouldn’t win in the brute strength and intimidation categories, she opted for begging next.

“Please. I have no idea who the fuck you are or why you think I’m staying here, but I’m not. I have friends and family who will be looking for me if I don’t show up in a few hours. I have places to be!”

The water was finally warm and I aimed the showerhead in her direction. Keeping my voice calm, I reminded her, “You have no family, Eleni. Stop lying. You have one friend who’s probably passed out drunk, naked and newly fucked in some guy’s bed. She won’t miss you. She probably assumes that you’re tucked away in your apartment after ditching her last night. I’ve seen you two fight before – I know that it will be days before she contacts you. You have a bad habit of ditching people when the mood strikes – or when there’s a new cock for you to bounce on.” I paused, allowing the truth of my words to sink in before adding the insult to the injury. “Really, your irrational and unpredictable behavior in life has set it up perfectly for you to go missing without anybody caring or realizing that something had happened to you.”

Her expression was priceless and I watched her huddle pathetically beneath the spray of the shower.

“How the fuck do you know so much about me?”

I smiled. “Because you told me.”

She shook her head, desperate to deny to herself the facts about her situation. She was in a strange place with a strange man who knew all there was to know about her when she knew nothing about him. There were no lies she could tell to change her situation and I was too large for her to force my hand.

“Please … just, please … let me go.”

My smile faded.

“No, sweetheart. First, you’re going to take a bath.”

Her eyes widened.

“Now, strip.”

 

Chapter Seven

~ Eleni ~

Maybe if I play it nice, he’ll let me go. It was the first thing that came to mind when the green-eyed man from last night told me to strip. Obviously being myself wasn’t working so I needed to attempt a different tactic. I was smart enough to realize that, at least.

I hated to admit to myself that I was scared shitless for the first time in my life; but not because he was holding me against my will or that he would probably rape me. I was scared because he knew everything there was to know about me, mainly the fact that no one was going to come looking for me. The thought was terrifying and painful at the same time. How fucking pathetic was I? I knew plenty of people – people I saw and talked to on a regular basis; but he was right. I never let them in enough for them to find my absence to be a concern. I disappeared often – not returning for several days while I wasted away on a bender just to escape from reality.

Looking up at him, I wondered how he knew I had no family; how he knew I lived alone, and how he knew that all my friends were casual acquaintances at best. He knew more than most people know about me which was creepy as shit. The thought briefly touched on my thoughts that this fucker might know more about me than I knew about myself.

I stood there in front of him, cowering under his sheer size. He was much bigger than me, towering well over six feet tall. I was willing to bet that under the layer of dark clothing, he had well defined muscles. He was probably one of those nasty gym dwellers that used his strength to overpower poor women like me – women who were broken and alone in the world.

But why on earth did he save me last night? Why would he save me from one would-be rapist just to pull the same bullshit?

My fucking head was pounding, and the nagging voices were coming to life. The lack of alcohol had them shouting. I wanted to scream for them all to just shut the fuck up. They taunted me about my predicament, laughed at my pain and misery and reveled in my misfortune. Fuckers. Some day, I swore, some fucking day I would kill them all. The memories, the nightmares – the weight I carried day in and day of the shit hand that life had dealt me. Rage brewed within my body as I tried and talk myself down. I needed to be smart about how I handled this and I wasn’t about to let my emotions take over just to get me killed.

As I stripped my clothing off per his request, my anger was fueling my desire to survive. The last thing I wanted was to push his buttons and piss him after he’d shown a small sliver of what I thought could actually be compassion.

“Can I ask you something?” my tone was brave. I was unsure of where my sudden bravado came from, but I was sure it was one of the voices cheering me on. They fucked me over all the damn time.

“No,” his tone was clipped and harsh. He was back to being a giant fucking asshole and I didn’t care because I was going to ask anyways.

“Why save me, just to do this? You could have any other fucking woman in the world, but you pick the chubby tattooed girl with the drinking problem? I’m sure you could do far better, why not just let me go?” I spoke freely because that was how I honestly felt about myself. I wasn’t a stick figure model that made men salivate to watch her walk by. I was curvy and tattooed – my lack of an amazing body matching my lack of an amazing personality. Almost every square inch of my body was covered by some kind of artwork, while almost every aspect of my thoughts was covered by some fucked up emotional scar.

He was quiet at first – studying me with piercing eyes that held darkness behind them. A smirk appeared on his perfect lips when he finally responded, "You have something I want - something that no other person can show me or teach me. It's something I don't understand. You have life, Eleni, and I want it.”

I tried not to make eye contact, but his eyes pulled me in. Something about him brought a piece of my dead soul back to life. Maybe that was the life he was talking about, but I wasn’t sure. I was confused, I was in pain and all I wanted was a fucking drink so I could escape this situation. Whatever cryptic message he was giving me, I couldn’t deal with the thoughts it aroused in my mind. I needed to fucking escape.

Still wearing my bra and panties, I pushed myself up and stepped out from under the spray of the shower. Reaching towards me suddenly, his fingers tightly gripped my upper arm so that he could spin my body to face him fully. Before he could make another move, my eyes were closed and I cowered under his touch. I didn’t want to be scared of him; but I was. I was scared shitless of him. He was the first person or thing I’d been scared of for as long as I could remember.

I couldn’t understand why he thought I was living? In reality, I wasn’t living at all. I was a fucking prisoner to my insane thoughts, my addiction, and my shitty life. And now, I was prisoner to him.

“I said strip, Eleni, I’ve allowed you a moment to accept my demand – but I’m not sure how much longer my patience will continue.” The warning in his words struck me as his finger softly caressed the side of my face. I opened my eyes and shivered beneath the weight of his stare. His expression wasn’t as harsh as it had been moments before. It gave me a false sense of comfort, even if it was only for a split second. After unclasping my bra, I allowed it to fall to the marble floor of the shower. He didn’t break his stare - his eyes continuing to hold mine while I stripped off the last piece of clothing.

My thumbs slipped beneath the waistband of my panties and I closed my eyes again as pushed them down my legs onto the floor. I tried to turn away, suddenly feeling exposed to his heated eyes, but his fingers tightened over the skin of my arm and he held me so that he could look over my body.

I didn’t dare look at him again, but I could feel his eyes watching me. The screaming in my head grew louder and I desperately tried to focus on shutting all the voices up. One-by-one I silently yelled at them. When they finally begin to quiet, I was able to enjoy a few moments of peace before remembering the fucked up situation I was in.

“You shouldn’t stay in long. It’s bad for your new tattoo. Just long enough to clean off your filth.”

The cruel tone to his words caused my eyes to fly open with shock. One minute he seemed to care, and in the next, he sounded like I was nothing more than a woman who deserved his abuse.

He smiled, wicked and cruel, and when his voice echoed through the nearly empty bathroom, my peace was stripped from me.

After pushing me back under the spray of the shower, he bathed my body and washed my hair. Memories appeared in my thoughts – like a flickering film reel, I saw myself as a child being bathes by my mother – one of the few memories I had of a time when she wasn’t negligent or unkind. When he was done running his hands along my skin, over my breasts – between my legs - I slowly emerged from beneath the spray of the water, pushing away the thoughts of my mother for the second time today. His large arms wrapped me in a towel like a child, and without thought as to what I was doing, I let out a painful scream.

The thoughts coming back were like knives to my chest.

“Eleni, you are such a sweet girl for Mommy.” She wasn’t high today. It was a miracle. “You know Mommy loves when you are such a good girl.” I nod in reply to my mothers praise. I was desperate for her love, and attention.

BOOK: The Good Girl
8.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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