15. Dolly

15

DOLLY

I woke up with the remnants of restful sleep clinging to me like a weighted blanket. I didn't want to get up, not when I knew exactly where I was and what my future looked like. And although I was unsure of so much, for the first time since this entire situation began, I felt rested. I felt… good. Physically, at least.

So I lay there for several moments, just listening to the sound of birds chirping outside and staring at the strip of light that filtered through the old curtain.

But I knew I couldn't hide in here forever. The truth was I didn't want to. I needed fresh air. I needed to feel the sun on my face and the wind in my hair. As I stretched under the sheets and then pushed myself up, about to swing my legs over the edge of the mattress, something caught my eye.

At first, I didn't know what I was looking at. It was a small spot on the floor near the bed, dried and white. I noticed more markings on the sheets, and the longer I looked at it, the harder my heart stuttered.

A knot formed in my stomach as realization crept in, dread spreading through me like ice. I glanced behind me at the closed bedroom door, then back at the spot beside me. The second pillow was indented, and when I ran my fingers over the sheets, I snatched my hand away and gasped.

They were warm.

I bit my lip, trying to steady my breath, my mind racing unsure of what to think or even do. But I knew deep down that whatever happened while I slept was anything but innocent.

God , I thought. I knew what had happened. Lars had jerked off while I slept, and then he slipped into bed and slept beside me all night. And I had been completely unaware.

A part of me wanted to be disgusted. I wanted to feel nothing but revulsion consuming me because what other sensations would a normal, rational person have? But I didn't. I felt neither of those things. In fact, I felt…. No. If I didn't acknowledge the wicked feelings starting to fill me up, then maybe I could still hold on to a modicum of my sanity.

But maybe I'm not sane? Maybe I'm meant to be here because I'm just as fucked up as he is.

I moved to the end of the bed and left my legs hanging over the mattress, my shoes I'd slept in not quite reaching the floor, just trying to settle myself from the inside out and allow my thoughts to straighten as well.

I thought I'd been dreaming. I remembered feeling warm and safe… and most definitely not alone. Memories of arms wrapping around me and pulling me in close had felt so real.

Because it was.

But when I woke up, I was alone, yet his phantom touch was a scar on my body.

The thought of Lars holding me all night made me shiver but not entirely from fear.

And that scared me more than anything else.

I heard the door creak open and looked over my shoulder. I didn't know if my lack of immediate anxiety was something I should be concerned with. My mind was still whirling with thoughts of what went on while I was asleep, but I forced myself to focus as Lars stepped into the room.

Of course, his presence loomed with ominous intent.

He said nothing at first, just watched me, his gaze unsettling as he scanned every inch he could see of me. I didn't miss how his gaze flickered to the side of the bed where I knew he slept all night. But he didn't look toward the mess he made, and I felt my face heat as I pictured how he probably looked jerking off while I slept unaware.

Now, my anxiety started to rise, and I clutched the blanket next to my hip, unsure of what was coming next as I continued to watch him over my shoulder. But I was surprised when he stepped inside and pushed the door fully open, implying he wanted me to step out of it.

"How'd you sleep?" he asked, a tiny smirk lifting one corner of his mouth.

I swallowed, then licked my lips. My throat felt too tight and dry to answer. I knew he asked me just because he wanted to get a sick rise out of me.

When I didn't speak, he told me, "I have something for you."

My heart raced as a thousand possibilities flashed through my mind, none of them comforting.

"Come on, Dolly. I promise you'll like it."

When I didn't move, he exhaled, apparently frustrated.

"You'll learn to trust me." He stared into my eyes, like he desperately wanted those words to sink in and be true. "I thought we could eat breakfast outside. The fresh air and sunshine will make you feel better."

I barely hesitated before slipping off the bed because going outside was too much of a temptation, and I couldn't—and didn't want to—stop myself or fight him on this.

With legs that felt too shaky to even walk straight, I moved around the bed. Lars stood by the door, waiting, his eyes never leaving me as I stopped in front of the chair and grabbed the sweater I'd left on it last night after my bath. My heart pounded in my chest as I moved toward him. When I was about to pass him, I looked away. His stare—his presence—was too intense, and I felt it on and in every single part of me.

Even though my pulse pounded in my ears, I could still hear that the cabin was silent except for the faint sound of wind and birds chirping coming from outside. No TV, no radio—just nature—and it was calling to me. But still, I stopped, pressed my back to the hallway wall, and waited for him to move in front of me. I swore he leaned in close to me and inhaled as he passed.

When he kept walking, I followed him down the narrow hallway, my gaze darting around as I took in every little part of the cabin I could see. The walls were made of dark, weathered wood, covered with handmade art pieces that seemed old-world.

The hallway opened up to a small living room, an intimate kitchen, and a stone hearth that was already alive with crackling flames in its fireplace. I stared at the fireplace, a pile of chopped wood neatly stacked beside it. I realized I was breathing harder and tried to calm myself.

The furniture was simple and hand carved. Upholstered, wooden armchairs were in front of the fireplace, worn but comfortable-looking. There was a worn two-seater table and a faded rug beneath it that was close to the kitchen. Everything about the place felt old and untouched by time, like it had been here forever, hidden away in these woods.

It probably has.

Lars went into the kitchen, and I watched him gather what I assumed was the breakfast he'd spoken of that we'd eat outside.

I kept glancing around, wanting to know everything I could about my prison. My gaze drifted to the lone window in the living room. Beautifully embroidered curtains were on either side of the glass, but they too looked old and sun-bleached. The glass was cloudy, but I could see all the trees right outside and the swatches of sunlight that filtered through the treetops.

Noise of Lars gathering items filled the small interior, and I swallowed hard when he headed toward the front door. My breath caught in my throat as he turned the knob and pulled the door open. The sun broke into the cabin, and for a second, I squinted at how bright it was.

The cool morning air blew inside and touched my skin. It had been days since I felt and smelled fresh air and since the sunlight had caressed my skin. I was walking toward the opened doorway before I knew I was doing it.

"You're free to go outside."

I realized I'd stopped. Maybe my unease was pouring off me?

Breathing something other than the confined cabin air inside was too tempting to resist, so I kept walking the rest of the way through the cabin, right out the front door, and onto the small, wooden porch.

"I want you to explore, Dolly," Lars said from behind me, his voice steady but somehow softer. "There's nowhere to go but here." And just like that, his words felt like chains, reminding me I wasn't actually free to do anything.

I glanced back at him, surprised he stood several feet behind me, giving me space. I swallowed again and stepped off the porch but glanced at him again, expecting he'd shift his calm attitude toward me and pull me back in, changing his mind.

But his body remained still, his dark gaze watching me. He'd been so controlling up until this point. Yet right now, he was giving me space, allowing me to put a semblance of distance between us. It felt like a trick, yet a deep part of me told me this was real.

I'd slept with my shoes on, the survival instinct in me saying I needed to be ready for anything. To run. But when I stepped onto the forest floor for the first time, I wished I was barefoot, able to feel the soft earth beneath my toes and the soles of my feet.

I took a breath, the fresh air filling my lungs in a way I hadn't realized I needed so desperately. I walked farther from the cabin, the space between Lars and me growing as I glanced around the forest and took in the natural beauty of it all.

As I kept walking, I felt my smile grow when I felt the warmth of the sun on my skin and the wind brushing through my hair, teasing the tendrils. The trees were dense all around me, the trunks ranging from young and skinny to enormously thick with countless decades of age. The ground was uneven from the undergrowth with flora sprouting from the earth and trying to reach for the sunlight.

I couldn't lie. I had to admit I wasn't even thinking about whether I should make a break for it. I should've been looking for escape routes and noticing if there were clear paths. But instead, I admired how utterly secluded we were. There was not course that would've guaranteed an escape. Even if I did run, where would I have gone? It was obvious the cabin was deep in the woods, with no visible signs of civilization.

My lips tingled to call for help at one point, but I loved being outside too much to ruin that. I started making mental notes. Each step farther from the cabin felt like a step into unknown territory, but I couldn't stop my exploration because I felt a sort of euphoria fill me.

There was this strange feeling gnawing at me. Something that wasn't fear. I hated Lars for what he'd done. I hated being his prisoner. But I couldn't ignore the way he'd been taking care of me.

He was controlling and possessive, but it was laced with something else.

He cares about me. Truly. Genuinely.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that.

It made me sick to even humanize him and this situation he put me in. But I couldn't help it. He made sure I ate. He brought me water, clothes, and wanted me to be clean. I'd never had anyone take care of me like that before, not in any sense of the words.

Every gesture chipped away at the clear line that was drawn between captor and captive. And that was what we were. That was what this relationship was.

But is it really?

I shook my head to clear the confusing thought.

In this moment, I didn't feel like a captive at all. He was freeing me… in a sense.

Before I realized how long I walked, a small creek came into view. I glanced behind me, seeing the cabin in the far distance while Lars was a few feet from me. I wasn't breathing hard, and my pulse wasn't racing. I felt at ease and calm right now.

I stopped by the creek, staring at the water as it trickled over rocks as my mind wandered. As much as I wanted to hate him, I was confused and really began thinking about everything at greater length and depth.

Something in my chest twisted painfully, and I pressed a hand there, trying to shove the feeling down.

I'd always been so alone. So lonely.

I didn't know how long I stood there, but after long moments, I finally forced myself to turn away from the creek. But when I spun, I saw Lars had spread out a blanket, set out the food he brought, and gestured for me to sit and eat.

He hadn't said anything else. He just let me be and do it at my own pace. But the weight of his gaze stayed on me as I sat down and started eating with no other prompting.

And when he sat across from me and started picking at the food for the first time since he'd taken me… I truly wasn't afraid. At all.

I should detest him and only be focused on escaping. But why did the thought of him sleeping beside me last night make me feel warm?

And why was I playing with the idea that I wanted him to do it again?