Chapter 11

Zailah

His words echoed in my mind. Every word he’d spoken was accurate. It was a cold and dark world he lived in. Before my mum died, my life was full of colour, and I had to consider if it was naivety or stupidity that kept me from seeing evil in the world we lived in.

A recent study calculated that in a lifetime, an average person passes by at least 36 murderers. It could be on a bus, in a restaurant, or while walking down a street. After meeting Remus, I believed the statistics. Remus was the face of evil. One that would remain with me until my dying day.

As time passed, the pain in my neck eased, and I touched the bulky collar around my neck. I should have known that it was a trap. I lay on my cold floor for hours before I found the courage to open the cell door. When nothing happened, I snuck around until I saw the stairs, only to find the door at the top of them locked. I found a screwdriver. Surprisingly, it didn't take too long to open it.

I closed my eyes as I remembered the rest. The collar had a range before it automatically activated. My body had been alight with excitement, fear and adrenaline when I’d jumped on the gate. The shock from the collar made me fly to my back and land on the driveway. I’d never experienced that kind of pain before. The bastard had thought of everything.

He was a tactician and wasn't the typical man who could be outwitted. If I were to survive this ordeal, then I would have no choice but to follow his instructions until he trusted me enough for me to escape. I thought of Emma and Charlotte, but I couldn't endanger anyone I knew. Remus genuinely believed that he owned my life, and I could see his ego becoming bruised if he didn't hunt me down.

So where would I go?

If I hadn't gone out for Halloween or taken a taxi, our paths would never have crossed. The thought was like a punch in my gut, and I covered my mouth as I tried not to sob at the depressing thought. So many different thoughts rushed into my head that I could feel the downward spiral and could do nothing to stop it.

The only positive was that I felt clean again.

◆◆◆

When he moved and stretched his body out, I immediately sat upright, but he got out of bed from the other side and went to the bathroom. Shortly after his departure, I heard the shower turn on. My body sagged with relief. I was exhausted, and each time I began to dose off, I would jerk awake in fear of being shocked again. It would start a cycle of thoughts that sent a kaleidoscope of extreme emotions through me. I was mentally and physically drained.

He exited the bathroom with a grey and black towel wrapped around his waist. I watched as he crossed the room to his wardrobe and took clothes out. A pair of grey trousers and a black shirt on a hanger was in his hand as he walked towards the bed. His towel dropped as he put a pair of boxers on. I swallowed when I saw his pubic hair and flaccid dick on show, but it was covered up within milliseconds, and I quickly looked away to keep my eyes on the cream carpet in front of me.

He hadn't addressed or looked at me, and part of me wanted him to acknowledge me. It had been seven or eight days with no company, no distractions and barely any communication. The common sense in me knew if he had his attention on me, it meant suffering.

What did this make me? Desperate.

I kept my head down until he left the room. My legs ached, and I tried to shift my weight and stretch my muscles out the best I could. It was a long time before he returned, but when I looked up, his wavy hair was dry, and he held a silver bowl. My mouth began to water at the aroma of hot food. I’d lived off the cold and dry sandwiches he had left me in the fridge.

He put the bowl beside my knees on the floor. I swallowed when I saw that it was a large dog bowl, but it had an omelette cut up inside it.

“Eat it like an animal,”

he said as he sat on the bed with his phone in his hand.

I stared at him momentarily before pushing myself back to bend down to try and eat out of the bowl. The taste of the omelette hit my palette. It had herbs, spring onions, soft potatoes, and tomatoes with cracked black pepper on top.

It was the best thing I’d eaten in such a long time. I hungrily chased the food around the bowl, past caring that he was watching me or recording me. I let out a soft sigh when I finished as my aching stomach felt better. I’d had no idea how hungry I was, but I never slept all night.

“What do you say?”

he asked in a low, husky voice, which only told me he got off on watching me debase myself.

“Thank you,”

I said flatly.

“For?”

“Thank you for my food,”

I said in the same tone, but this time, my hands trembled with too many emotions I couldn't identify because I was too damn tired.

He chuckled before he lifted my chin, so I had no choice but to look at him.

“A little better, but with room for improvement. I might begin to keep weekly performance reviews for you,”

he said as he dropped his hand from my face. “They might be a touch different from your work ones,”

he said before tapping the tip of my nose with his finger.

My life was a joke to him.

◆◆◆

“Climb in,”

he said as he nudged me towards the open boot of his Range Rover.

At this point, I didn't have a shred of dignity left in me, and there was no graceful way of climbing into the boot of his car while being naked. I managed to climb inside, and when I turned around, he stood watching me while he leaned on the car.

“If you raise your head past the cover, expect to get shocked. I had intended to drug you,”

he said before he closed the boot.

Since it was automatic, it didn't go down straight away, and I crouched down to watch the house disappear. He said I would go to a facility, which implied a larger, less homely place. Not that my cement room was comfortable, I closed my eyes, and as the car began to move, I fell asleep almost instantly. After the night, I experienced that I needed it.

I felt rested but apprehensive about what would come next when I woke up. The boot door began to open, and I gasped when I saw the massive red brick building.

“It used to be a mental asylum. In the Victorian days, these institutions had a bad rep, and I thought this would be appropriate for your stay,”

Remus said.

I sat up and moved towards the edge of the boot to climb out but yelped when Remus grabbed me by the arms and pulled me out. He turned me around so my back was resting against the front of his body.

“Do you see the walls?”

he asked as his hand rested on my belly.

I looked around and saw the property had a high wall around it.

“I've set the voltage to the maximum. Should you manage to escape, you won't get past the walls of this facility,”

he said before his head touched the side of my face. “I would love it if you tried. Mmm, I can't wait to punish you again,”

he whispered, but this time he held my hips and rubbed himself on my ass.

I froze at the shock of him touching me in a sexual manner, but then his scent hit me, and he smelled so good. It wasn't just his cologne. It was his flesh and even the stale smell of cigarettes. I felt excited and nauseated simultaneously.

“Hmm, there is something about you—the way you smell,”

he said, sniffing loudly beside my ear before his hand moved lower. My breath caught in the back of my throat, but he moved it to my upper thigh. “Is it the wolf in you?”

he asked as if I knew what the fuck was happening right now.

I gasped when I felt his dick harden against my ass. My breath became choppy as his other hand moved towards my breast, but he kept it on my ribs, making me swallow nervously.

“I could do so many terrible things with your body, and you would heal almost instantly. You are a sadist’s dream come true,”

he said as his fingers brushed against my pussy.

I winced because I felt his finger slip between my pussy to feel my arousal.

“What a good little bitch. Wet for your master already,”

he said with a chuckle.

The panic in me put me on edge as the thought of him controlling every aspect of my life and me beginning to enjoy his depraved sexual advances. The idea of losing my autonomy was worse than any pain I went through for the procedures or his torturous collar.