12. WILLOW

My hands grip the edges of the sink as I stare at myself in the mirror.

The marks on my body are a canvas of yellows and greens, reds and purples. An artist’s palette of pain. I press down on a bruise letting the pain flow through me.

Can I even blame Dean for all of it? Of course you can, Willow, I tell myself.

The maniac kidnapped me, used me and has now carved his name into my flesh like I really am just a piece of meat to use. Like I’m his property.

He made it clear.

I own you.

I keep telling myself I hate him for everything but I can’t tell if I’m lying to myself or not.

Dean’s words have been playing over and over in my head since I woke up alone earlier. I’ve no idea how long I slept. All I remember after my body basically exploded all over him was an overwhelming feeling of bliss. Whatever pleasure that he brought out of me completely overrode the pain and I was insanely high on it. I could have said anything to him in that state.

It’s like I’ve got an orgasm hangover and the end of the night is missing from my memory.

He thinks I’m his and maybe I am? This is so messed up. I don’t know right from wrong anymore. I do know he's not going to kill me though. The sincerity in his eyes as he told me that made me believe his words even though I probably shouldn’t.

Pulling back the bandage, I trace my fingers over the deep lines of his name on my body. There’s an underlying sting that makes me wince and I remember the feel of the blade as it made each cut followed by the most intense orgasm of my life.

It’s disgusting how good it made me feel. Who the hell gets off on pain like that? Me, apparently.

It’s getting a lot harder to deny it now but no matter how much he wants the truth I can’t give it to him. I’m not sure why though? A sense of pride maybe or just plain old self preservation?

“Don’t touch them.” I flinch as Dean comes up behind me and moves my hands away, weaving his fingers through mine. He stares at the reflection of his handiwork in the mirror.

This is the first time I’ve seen him since what he did to me. My nerves start to get the better of me and I can feel my body trembling.

He doesn’t look the least bit sorry about it but he doesn’t look smug either.

Unless I’m seeing things, I swear that’s awe on his face. It makes my heart beat even faster in my chest. No one’s ever looked at me like that before.

“You need to keep them clean. Does it still hurt?”

I nod and he reaches above me to grab some things off a shelf.

“Is it a good hurt or a bad hurt?” Dean asks as he turns me around and adds some ointment to the cuts. I hiss from the sudden sting but can’t help but feel something else in my body from the intimacy of him tending to me like this. Now that I think about it he’s always looked after me when I”ve needed it, even though he’s been the cause of it everytime.

“A bit of both,” I say, wetting my lips. Honestly, I’m not sure how to really describe it.

“Tell me what the difference is.”

“I can’t.”

“Try. Imagine I was an alien and had no idea what this could feel like.” He smirks at me, like there’s something he’s not telling me as he delicately places gauze over the wound and tapes it up.

“You’re so weird,” I mutter to myself not caring if he hears me. Folding my arms over my chest, I say, “fine. I’ll play along if I can have some clothes.”

I hold my chin up even though my knees feel weak as I look up at him. His bare chest is right in front of my face, he smells clean and come to think of it I do too. Even the sheets were clean when I woke up earlier. He must have cleaned everything up, including me, after I passed out yesterday.

Dean flicks my nose and says, “feisty, little kitten. I like it. Here, take these and I’ll find you something.” He holds out two white pills in his palm.

“I’m not—,” I start but he quickly interjects.

“They’re the painkillers you wanted. The guy at the pharmacy said to take two every four hours for general aches and pains.” He rubs the back of his head. “Not sure how many you’d need for this though.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine. Thank you.” My fingers graze his palm as I take the pills from him and as I look up at him through my eyelashes I see the small smile creasing the corner of his mouth. Then he quickly turns away into the bedroom.

When I’m finished in the bathroom, I’m nervous to go to him. I don’t know how to handle him after last night. It’s like nothing’s changed for him but everything has for me. If he’s not going to kill me then why am I even here? Just as a plaything for him? Does he want a real relationship?

What do I want?

Just yesterday I thought the answer was my freedom but whether it’s because I’m scared to be out in the world alone or I’m just scared of what Dean will do if I try to leave him again, I can’t even begin to think of planning another escape.

As soon as I walk into the bedroom, Dean tosses me a shirt and I awkwardly grab it with a yelp.

“Some warning next time, jerk,” I snap, biting back my own small smile.

The shirt smells like him even before putting it on. I tug it over my head, trying not to knock my cuts and when I look down at it I pull it outwards. “What does this even say?” I tilt my head trying to figure out the picture underneath the scrawled lettering. “Is that a skull?”

“It’s one of my favorite bands,” he shrugs as he sits crossed legged on the bed. He's also put on a similar top but judging by the logo he’s repping a different band. Guess you can judge a book by its cover. Dark and broody guy likes heavy metal. Guess I have a type now.

“Do I not get any underwear?”

“Not today,” he winks and jumps up off the bed. In one long stride, he’s wrapping his arms around my waist. “Maybe you can earn some later.”

I don’t let him get to me and make a point of rolling my eyes at him. “What shall we do today?” He starts to lean down and nip at my jaw, I arch my neck away but he just follows with his tongue.

“Shouldn’t we talk about yesterday?”

Squeezing me tighter, he sighs. “Do we have to? I thought everything was made pretty clear.”

“You’re not angry?”

“No, baby, why would I be? You took your punishment well and I know you’re not going to do anything like that again.”

My mouth goes dry and I stop myself from swallowing the lump forming in my throat. It wasn’t a question but still I say, “no, I won’t.”

“Now,” he says slowly, looking at my lips. “You didn’t finish answering my question earlier.”

Right, how does it feel being cut up by a psycho? My stomach flutters at the thought and I know I can’t give him the exact truth.

“Obviously, it hurts, like an ache but it also makes my skin tingle and my heart race. I’m not sure how else to say it.” I shrug looking away from him.

“If I touch you will I find you wet?” Dean says, his voice so low and gravelly I’m forced to look back up at him. My cheeks burn and the heat spreads all the way down to between my legs.

This is the moment I should tell him no, that I hate the way it feels, but we both know exactly what my body did when he fucked me whilst I was still dripping blood yesterday.

I nod.

He leans his forehead down onto mine and says roughly, “fuck, Willow. There really must be a god for me to be able to find someone like you.”

I breathe out slowly, my mind and body both anticipating what he’ll do next. His hands all over me, the feel of his cock between my legs as he finds new ways to hurt me that I know I’ll end up enjoying.

“Want to fuck you so bad but you should at least have a day to heal. Don’t want you to think I’m an asshole.” He winks at me. “Anyway we have other plans.”

“Plans?”

Dean starts to lead me by the hand from the bedroom but I dig my heels into the carpet. “What’s wrong?” he asks. “We’re just going to have dinner. You must be starving, you slept most of the day.”

I did? The curtains are still closed so I can’t tell if it’s night or day but the cramps in my stomach tell me he’s right. As I let him lead me downstairs, our fingers entwined, I ask, “you’re not putting the cuffs on?”

“Do I need to?”

“No!” I quickly say. He’s actually trusting me after yesterday. I’m not about to question it and get my ass stuck in the bedroom all night so I quietly follow along.

In the kitchen, the counters are covered in all sorts of ingredients. Pots and pans are stacked up to one side and there’s a pile of cookbooks on another end. “I’m not cooking for you! If you’ve got some bullshit old fashioned views on what a woman does in the house then you might as well kill me now.”

With his back to me Dean picks up a stack of papers and laughs, his shoulder muscles moving hypnotically under his shirt. “I don’t need you to be a maid for me, Willow. I’ve been looking after myself for a long time.” He turns to me and hands me the papers which I now see are all print outs of recipes. “No, we”re cooking dinner together. I’ve seen your search history on your phone, you’ve got a lot of recipes saved and I mean a lot!”

He’s been through my phone?I don’t know why I’m surprised. He knows so much about me that I’ve not told him, another violation of my privacy isn’t exactly unexpected.

“You went through my phone to look at my saved recipes? Why?” He must want something out of this.

“How else was I supposed to know you weren’t some crazed serial killer?” I scowl at his attempt at humor but I can feel my lip twitch as I try not to laugh.

“I wonder what I’d find on your phone then.”

“You’re welcome to look,” he winks.

He probably would let me if I asked but do I really want to know what someone that kills people for a living and is okay with kidnapping someone for his own sexual pleasure searches for? No, thank you.

“I’m sure it’s just as dirty as any other guys search history,” I say as I curl my lip.

Dean moves my hands aside so he can step up to me, I take a step back but end up sandwiched tight between him and the counter.

“I wanted to do something nice for you to show you that I’m serious about us.”

There is no us!Is what I want to say but I hold the retort back. I swallow as I peer up at him. Every day it gets harder to be this close to him. All I can smell is him and all I want to do is slide my hands under his shirt to feel his warm body and—

“Pick a recipe, I’ve bought everything we need for all of them so choose whatever one you like.”

Wait, he bought all of this just so I could pick whatever meal I wanted? Surely asking me what I wanted would have been easier but the thought he’s put into this is oddly nice.

“I don’t understand,” I say, pushing at his chest and he takes a step back looking hurt.

He rubs the back of his neck, as he says, “you don’t like it. That’s fine, I’ll think of something else.”

“No, it’s not that, I just…this is all new and kind of weird for me. Why do anything for me? You don’t have to, I’m already here and you’ve told me I can’t ever leave so why even try to be nice?”

“Because I don’t want you to hate me,” his words are filled with so much innocent vulnerability I’ve never seen in him before that my heart breaks a little for him.

“All I’ve known my whole life is being locked up by men that think they know what’s best for me.”

His eyes suddenly go dark and his whole demeanor changes like he wants to hurt someone. For once it’s not me.

“Who hurt you? Whoever they are they’re fucking dead!” he growls.

“Other than you?” I snap half-heartedly and he steps forward but I hold my hand out keeping him at bay.

“Willow, I—,”

“No, let me finish. I know, I can’t leave, that’s the only thing I kind of understand. What I don’t understand is why you would even want me? I don’t know how I feel about you or any of this but I want you to let my heart be my own. You’ve taken over my body and I’m not even sure what my mind is doing but my heart is still mine. You can’t just expect me to give it to you after…after everything.” I hold Dean’s gaze and the darkness in his eyes seems to fade back to his usual sharp blue but there’s still a hint of anger there.

“Okay,” he says quietly.

Tears threaten to spill from my eyes and I’m not sure why. I tear my gaze off him and start looking through the pages in my hand. I don’t manage to take in what’s on them and I hold a random one out to him.

“We can start with this.”