“Trust me.”
Two words.
I feel every complicated layer of what those two words mean between us right now. It’s ironic, isn’t it? He’s telling me to trust him, and he’s the one person who destroyed it completely.
He ties my other wrist. I squeeze my legs shut, but he doesn’t let me get away with that either. He grabs my ankles and ties them as well. I try to pull my limbs near my body to find some sort of comfort, but I can’t.
He sits beside me and says, “I need you to listen to me.”
I want to ask him what the fuck else am I supposed to do?
Let him burn down Elm Hall?
I listen.
“You came here thinking you knew what you were walking into. You didn't. You still don't.”
I stare at the darkness inside the blindfold.
“I never thought I did, Cody. I know nothing.”
His hand finds my stomach over the shirt I’m wearing. He rests his hand there, warm and heavy and completely still.
“The people you’ve been trusting cannot be trusted.”
“And I’m supposed to trust you?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me who you’re talking about.”
He’s silent as I hear him move across the room.
“Cody? Are you leaving me here?” I plead, panicking. I can hear it in my voice.
I hear footsteps walking to the bed. “No, baby. I wouldn’t leave you here. What do you think I am?”
I breathe, exhaling. And right at the wrong time, because my stomach burns. I tremble, feeling something burning hot drop on my body. “What’re you doing?” I ask, panting.
He lifts my shirt higher and drips more on my body. The places that were burning are now cool.
“Cody, what is that?”
“Something to remind you who you belong to.”
I lift my head, trying to look down at it, but it’s just black. And then I fall back on the bed.
“I don’t belong to anyone.”
He pours more, and as it drips down my stomach and hardens before completely falling off, I think I know what it is –– candle wax. I wouldn’t have known this if Maeve and I hadn’t played with it a few years ago.
“You’re wrong, babe. You belong to me and only me.” I feel his large size sitting on the bend of my leg, right on my sensitive area. “You think I don’t smell him on you? It makes me sick.”
“Cody,” I mutter as he pours more. I shake. “Shit!”
He leans in and whispers in my ear, “You’re mine, Adela.” He starts to peel off the wax. I’m trembling, and then I feel his wet mouth on my skin.
“Cody,” I breathe.
