10. WILLOW

I’m not sure if it’s the same day or the next when my eyes open but I do know my body feels like it’s been run over by a freight train. A feeling I’m getting tired of waking up to.

“You know I’m kinda busy at the moment, if you need me just message,” Dean’s voice comes from next to me on the bed. It’s low and husky like he's not long woke up. I pretend I’m still asleep so I can listen.

“No, I”ve not had a chance yet. Just give me a couple extra days to get things done on my end and we’ll do it then… No, you’re not coming here! I’ll meet you there.”

I can’t hear who’s on the other end of the call. Is it a work call? A woman? It’s crossed my mind that Dean might already have a girlfriend or be sleeping around, especially since he’s away a lot and sometimes comes home smelling of booze.

Pain stabs in my chest. I don’t want to be the one he’s cheating with but I also hate the thought of him being with anyone else. My breath hitches involuntarily and I quickly clamp my mouth shut.

“I’ve gotta go. Just text me if you need anything,” Dean says as he ends the call and I lay as still as I can, trying to pretend I’m still asleep.

“There’s no point being quiet, I know you’re awake. You make noise when you’re asleep, soft purrs just like a little kitten.”

I slowly turn over and see he’s leaning his cheek on the back of his hand as he smiles down at me.

His dark hair’s a mess from sleeping and it curls up in the cutest way at the front. I keep my hands tucked under the blankets so they don’t end up brushing through it. “I wasn’t deliberately listening.” I definitely was but there’s no point admitting that to him.

He shrugs nonchalantly, “doesn’t matter if you were. It was just a friend.”

A knot tightens in my stomach and I hate myself for having to even ask this, “a female friend?”

Something bright flashes in his eyes and he smiles so wide I can see the tip of his tongue as he strokes it along his teeth. “If it was, would you be jealous?”

I scoff and sit up. He wraps his arms around me and rests his chin on my shoulder. “He is a friend. So, no need to pout, baby.”

“I’m not,” I say trying to shrug him off but the ache in my muscles makes me groan and my body curls in on itself. Dean lets go of me and hops off the bed to crouch in front of me.

There’s concern in his eyes and also a weird glint of fascination as he looks at me. “What’s wrong?”

Motioning to the array of marks on my chest alone I say, “what do you think? If you’re not going to stop doing this to me, you could at least give me some painkillers.”

He stands up and runs his hands through his fringe as he rocks back on his heels. He looks almost nervous as he says, “I don’t have any.”

“Oh.” That’s kind of odd, doesn’t everyone have that sort of thing in their house?

“I can go buy some. What do you need?”

“Just the basic stuff.”

“The basic stuff,” he mumbles, making an odd face. “Anything else?”

Why does he even bother to ask? It’s not like he actually cares.

Unless he does,a little voice in my mind says. No, my feelings for Dean are already too fucked up. If I start thinking he might also be feeling the same way about me then it’ll hurt so much more when he's done with me.

I shake my head and Dean nods. “Okay. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

As he gets dressed I try not to stare at his body but my eyes have a mind of their own and they drag down his cut torso to the defined V that points straight down to his…

“What is that?” I gasp, my eyes locked on to his cock.

“My first tattoo. You like it?”

“You…your…” my mouth won’t cooperate. He steps forward and gives me a closer look at the tattoo wrapping around the base of his cock. “That’s…”

“Your mark.” I can hear the smugness practically dripping off his voice. He grips the end and lifts the length so I can see how the pattern wraps all the way around. I’m suddenly struck with the realization of how comfortable I am examining him like this.

I look up at him and see he looks way too proud of himself. “You’re insane,” I mumble.

“I wondered when you’d finally notice. It’s already healing up.”

When did he even get it done?I try to think back to when I bit him but my time here is a blur. I’m not sure how I didn’t notice, he’s been inside of me in one way or another pretty much every day.

“You’ve been having sex with me with that?” I ask and he quirks a brow. “I mean, did it hurt? Surely you’re not supposed to have sex with a fresh tattoo on your…”

“Cock. You can say the word baby. It won’t bite. Unlike you.” He rubs his thumb over my lower lip and I push him away. He’s such an ass.

He laughs and finishes getting dressed into some dark jeans and a short sleeved black top that hugs his arm and chest muscles too well. Before he heads out he brings me in for a long kiss.

I tell myself I didn’t like it. That the brightness in his eyes as he leaves and the butterflies in my stomach mean absolutely nothing.

Once the door locks, I listen closely for the faint sound of the front door then his car starting before I lie back on the bed and take a deep breath.

He is certifiably insane.

What sort of person gets a tattoo of that on their junk? I’m not sure if I should be horrified or flattered that he got it done in the first place.

If Stockholm Syndrome is a real thing then maybe it’s starting to set in. I’m getting way too used to this whole situation and I need to remember that none of the nice things he's done outweigh the awful things he's put me through.

What awful things? The voice lurking in the back of my head quips. All he does is have sex with you and you enjoy it.

No. I need to remind myself it’s my body that enjoys it, not me.

I can’t believe he’s really gone out to buy me painkillers though. He could have easily said no or even laughed in my face and told me to put up with the pain, especially since he loves it so much.

My stomach twists from all the mixed up emotions in me right now but I have to ignore them.

I hang my head in my hands as I try to figure out what to do. I keep telling myself I can’t stay here but everytime that annoying voice in my head taunts me. I have nothing. No money, no clothes, I don’t even know what Dean’s done with my things.

The times I’ve been left alone I’ve searched this entire room for anything to help me get out of here but so far I’ve found nothing. There’s plenty of places I can’t reach like the top of his closet or the highest shelves in the bathroom but I doubt I’ll find anything useful there anyway.

I’ve been planning an escape since I got here and now feels like my best chance to try to get out.

I grab a towel from the bathroom and wrap it around myself. With the cuffs on, it’s hardly like I can wear clothes but I don’t want to be running through the streets naked so this will have to do.

Then I shuffle to the closet and grab one of Dean’s boots. The toe cap feels like it’s steel and the whole thing is pretty heavy so hopefully it’ll be enough. I take it to the door and try the handle just in case but as I thought, it’s locked. There's only the one lock on the handle itself. If I can get that off then that’s one step closer to some sort of freedom.

It takes all my effort and way too much time but I finally manage to get the handle loose. Just one more hit and it’ll be broken.

My muscles ache from the strain as I put all my energy into it and finally the handle falls at my feet with a dull thud.

“No way! No freaking way!” I can’t believe it actually worked.

With the boot in my hand, I head to where I think I remember the stairs being.

Luck must really be on my side today as I find them straight away. I awkwardly walk down them, trying not to trip with the chains around my ankles and manage to avoid breaking my neck. At the bottom I see the front door up ahead. Of course it’s locked but I use the boot on the handle again.

My arms start to burn as I keep smacking it over and over but this one doesn’t even budge.

I’ve no idea how long has passed and I’m quickly running out of options. I run to the closest room and try the window. Again it’s locked. They’re all locked.

Abandoning the boot I pick up a nearby lamp and shield my eyes as I toss it at the glass.

It bounces off without even leaving a scratch.

“What the hell?” Is it reinforced glass? Being a killer probably comes with a lot of enemies so I wouldn’t be surprised if the windows are all bulletproof. This place really is built like a fortress.

I spin on the spot trying to find anything heavier to use when I hear the familiar rumble of a car engine outside.

“No! Not yet!”

Did it really take me that long to only get this far?

I hurry out of the room and am about to go back upstairs when I realize it’ll be obvious I tried to escape if the door is broken open.

Dean might actually kill me if he catches me.

Instead, I race through the house, as fast as the chains allow, to find the kitchen where I grab a knife from a drawer. My hand shakes as I look at the point of the blade.

I can’t use it. I can’t kill someone.

I feel like I’m about to be sick just from the thought of hurting another person. No, not just another person. Him.

Why do I feel like that? I should wish him all the pain in the world for what he’s done to me. Hopefully it won’t come to using it. He doesn’t know I don’t have it in me. I can just threaten him with it to let me leave. If I can just get to the street, surely someone will be able to help me.

The click of the lock startles me and I hurry to the door before he can lock it behind him. Dean’s eyes widen as he spots me.

“Move out of the way!” I quickly say, before Dean has a chance to do anything.

He looks down at the knife that I keep pointed straight at him but my arm won’t stop shaking and he smirks.

He tosses the paper bag onto the side table near me, seeing the pharmacy logo on the paper makes me feel bad that he actually went out to get me what I needed whilst I’ve been here trying to leave him.

No, I shouldn’t feel bad about that.I need to leave. I want to leave. None of this is okay!

“Move!” I say again. “Or I’ll have to hurt you.”

He takes a step inside and I instinctively step back.

“I’m not surprised, just disappointed.” His words are a punch to the gut and I can feel my eyes burning from unshed tears.

He’s so cruel, one minute he treats me like his prisoner and the next his girlfriend.

I don’t understand what he wants from me.

“I’m actually kind of interested to see if you’ll be able to do it,” he says, nodding to the knife.

The space between us is quickly shrinking along with my confidence.

“I’ll do it! I’ll hurt you, if you don’t let me leave right now!”

With one hand I clutch the towel tighter to me as I keep the other with the blade aimed towards him making the chain between the cuffs stretch tight. I expect him to reach out to disarm me but he steps aside.

“Fine. Leave. If you make it out, your life is yours. Not that you even have one. I know you have nothing to your name and nowhere to go. Except back to your father.” My breath catches in my throat and he notices. How does he know any of that? “I know you don’t want to go back there. Why else would you leave him so suddenly? There's something you won’t tell me, but I will find out what it is.”

“Shut up! You don’t know anything about me. You have no right to know anything about me!” I look between him and the open door. This could be a trick but my freedom is right there.

So why doesn’t it feel like freedom?

Dean’s right, I have no place to go.

As much as I don’t want to be here I also don’t want to leave. I’ve craved affection my whole life and finally I have it but it comes from the wrong place. I can’t stay.

Keeping my front to him, I inch closer to the door. “If you don’t make it past the gate your life is mine, Willow. I choose what happens to you. I’ll be the only one to ever bring you pleasure or pain. It’ll be up to me when you die and it’ll be up to me how you live. There will be no more chances to leave after this so make sure it’s worth it.”

That’s it then. If Dean catches me he really will kill me. He doesn’t even look sad about it. I really was kidding myself when I thought he might have actually cared about me.

Without giving him another look I toss the knife aside and run. There’s no point trying to fight him off with it, if he catches me then it’s all over and I don’t want him dragging it out any more than I know he will.

The road to the gate isn’t that long but each step is agony without shoes and my running is hardly more than a fast paced hobble.

I don’t dare look over my shoulder to see if Dean’s watching me. If he is, I’m sure his face is full of smug satisfaction.

With each step I realize how stupid this whole decision was. There’s no way I can outrun or outfight him.

As the gate gets closer more tears fill my eyes until they’re burning. When I get to it, I look over my shoulder and see Dean halfway up the path just watching me with his hands in his pockets.

Why isn’t he chasing me down? Panic bubbles up in my chest and I search the gate for a way to open it.

It’s a solid block of iron without even any gaps to look through. The only way I can see to open it is a small panel next to it that needs a passcode.

No wonder he let me run. It was all a trick.

In a panic I start punching in random numbers but of course they don’t work.

Shit. This was such a wasted attempt. I should have waited longer, planned it out more.

The crunch of boots behind me makes my heart sink. When I turn Dean’s standing right behind me, smiling down at me.

“Looks like you’re all mine after all.”