My body tingled with shocks of warmth as the panic slammed through me.
He lifted me off the ground and I screamed, but the sound was muffled as I clawed and scratched at his hands, the leash slipping from my grip.
“Lucy!” I tried to scream
He carried me into one of the hidden alcoves and tossed me away from him as if I suddenly burned him.
I stumbled, just barely managing to catch myself before I scrambled back, the creek to my back, too wide to cross, thick trees all around me, but it didn’t matter. He would find me no matter how far I ran, wouldn’t he? Real or not, he was always going to find me.
“Lucy,” I said, fixing my dress as he stood in the alcove’s entryway like some sort of demonic entity watching its prey.
She appeared at his side, watching me with a wagging tail.
My eyes were wide. “Attack,” I said carefully.
He didn’t even look her way.
She remained exactly where she was, confused as to why I would possibly give that command.
This couldn’t be real then. I was imagining things. I was having another nightmare.
She always followed my commands. Always.
I closed my eyes and shook my head, shoving my hair back. “Wake up,” I ordered myself. “Please,wake up.”
The chuckle I heard sent fear spearing down my spine, causing my eyes to open. “This is one nightmare you will never wake up from, little writer.”
I took a step back, my shoe slipping on some mossy rocks, causing my heart to slam.
I readjusted myself and my eyes jerked back to his. “Yes, it is. It has to be.”
“Why?” he asked, cocking his head to one side, the mask making the motion that much more terrifying. “Because something like this couldn’t happen to someone like you?” he offered, taking a step forward. “Because you see this shit on television, write about it in yourbooks, but you could never believe that it would happen to someone you love,” he mocked.
I glared, hating his fucking condescension. “I don’t owe you any explanation.” It wasn’t real because it just wasn’t. I saw him in that club, and he did what every other book character did; he consumed me. Steven was right, I needed to stop writing, no matter how impossible. I needed to stop filling my head with that nonsense. I needed to just get a normal job or stay at home and clean. Become a homemaker, that’s what I needed. His homemaker, just like he wanted.
This wasn’t real.
He shook his head, stalking forward. “No, but you owe me the rest of the payment, and trust me when I say, that after this, every payment will be made in full when I come to collect.”
I clenched my hands into fists and grit my teeth. “I didn’t agree to any payment arrangement. I didn’t borrow any money. I didn’t make any deal with you. I owe younothing,” I said, hoping my voice came off as angry as I felt.
He smiled as if he knew the secrets of the universe. “That’s the thing about us, we don’t need agreements. We decide, you do what we say, or you get punished. Usually by torturous death. You can thank your precious little boyfriend for that.”
I laughed against my better judgment, my hatred and resentment for Steven only growing. “That didn’t seem like torture to me.”
His smile widened. “No,” he said, his eyes scanning over me slowly. “It wouldn’t have.”
My eyes narrowed and it was then that I realized how close I let him get to me. He was only feet away.Shit. “What does that mean?”
“It means you are terrified of how I make you feel. It scares you what I do to you,” he went on, his eyes dropping to my lips only to find mine again. “It’s actually pathetic how green you are, considering.”
My eyes narrowed and I was too confused by what he was saying to move, to do anything but stand there. I shook my head, a breathlessness filling me, my skin growing hot as he stopped in front of me. “I am scared of you,” I whispered, my hands shaking at my side. “I’m absolutely terrified of you.”
His hand shot out so fast, I had no idea what was happening until his fingers wrapped around my throat. He jerked me forward until my nose nearly touched his. “Good.”
I wrapped my hands around his wrist, my heart slamming against my ribs as he turned my back to the table and started forcing me towards it. “Stop,” I pleaded, struggling to keep my footing, my heart slamming against my ribs, threatening to escape.
“A payment is a payment,” he stated, ripping that scarf off my neck and tossing it to the ground.
