I have no idea what he has in mind, but whatever it is, I hope it isn’t too painful. I will try to be on my best behavior, but it will be a challenge dealing with a narcissistic man who isn't playing with a full deck.
He will make me angry with his constant demands; I know it. He is an empty shell. I can sense it in him. He felt nothing when I was bawling my eyes outin the tree, almost shitting myself out of fear. Thanks to him, my feet are full of crusty, dried-up blood. I have to take care of them so they don't become infected. The bottoms of my heels are burning. I looked at my Dark Knight, raising my brows.
“My feet are full of cuts. I... I need to bandage them. Do you have anything I can use?"
He looked at me with a smug smile on his lips. It’s that smile that pisses me off. The guy gets off on this shit. He’s such an ass. He is enjoying my torment.
Sick bastard!
"No need to worry, pet. When we get to my place, I’ll clean those feet up for you. I will have them healed in a couple of days. I don’t want marks anywhere on your body, not even at the bottom of your feet, unless, of course, they're by my hand."
His laugh is sinister. I shudder in revolt. He is going to leavehismarks on me, which means inflicting pain.
Knowingthatmakes me feel better!!
I hate this man!
I honestly want to spit right in his damn face. Even though I would love to see his reaction to a face full of my saliva dangling off his chin, I know better.
He already threatened to slap the snot out of me when I was losing my mind in the damn tree. I certainly don’t need a backhand in the mouth right now.
I laughed to myself.
Who said chivalry was dead?!
He reached out, stroking my arm. I cringe at his touch, pulling away. I loathe him. He grinned evilly at me .
“Don’t worry, Kitten, right now you may reject me, but I can assure you, there will be a time when youwill crave my tongue, my dick, and my touch. I will be your damnation and your salvation. You can bet on that.”
I feel my insides twist at his words. He is so vulgar and sure of himself. I don't want him touching me at all. He makes my skin crawl.
Damnation can’t mean anything good. Although I am hot-headed with a big mouth, I am terrified of this man. I know I have not seen the worst of him yet.
He is going to discipline me, but how? I don’t do well with beatings. My mother used to hit me when I was a kid, and it made me into the person I am today. I went through a lot of crap with herandher addiction to opiates. She did a lot of screwed-up shit when I was young.
I remember when I was 8 years old; she lost her shit because I didn't put slippers on my feet when I went outside, like she told me to.
I couldn't wear my sneakers, which were full of holes, so I walked around barefoot. I was too embarrassed to wear slippers while I was playing in the neighborhood.
The other kids already teased me because we were poor, and I hated it. When I came into the house barefoot, she went nuts and whipped me with a plastic spoon, leaving welts all over my body.
The woman who lived on the third floor in our tenement house called my father at work to tell him my mother was beating the living shit out of me, and I was screaming bloody murder. He rushed home and stopped her from pulverizing me to death. That was the only time he intervened when my mother hitme. I was covered in welts for days from that damn spoon.
My shrink told me my childhood issues made me a stronger person. Maybe it did, but it wasn't pleasant, nonetheless. I don’t like to take shit from anyone, including this screwball. He could kill me with one punch.
That is quite clear. He doesn’t needmygun to murder me. When I said I liked the bad boy type, I didn’t know what thatentailed. I am sorry I manifested this creep because now I know what a bad boy is.
He is sitting beside me, operating this high-end vehicle he forced me into. I knew he was wealthy just by the inside of his BMW, which has a black and red leather interior, and he keeps talking about his private island. I guess most killers make a lot of money. He is the epitome of evil, and psycho, all wrapped up in one package.
Lucky me.
He acts like he is out on a typical Sunday drive. He isn’t bothered by anything he has done tonight. The man is clearly mad. Although I think I will regret this, I must know, or I will lose my mind. I swallow hard, feeling the lump in my throat.
“How are you going to punish me? I want to prepare myself, so I don't have a nervous breakdown obsessing about it.”
He looks at me and winks.
“Now, if I tell you, the lesson will be ineffective, won’t it? I promise you will not have a nervous breakdown, pet. If that happens, you won't be of use to me; however, you could have avoided punishment by simply behaving. Now, you’re sitting here getting your panties in a twist, worrying about it. After youatone for your disobedience, maybe your attitude will improve.”
