16. Laura

Chapter 16

Laura

I throw myself into my work. Five days pass excruciatingly slow, and I start to worry about the whole car thing until a BMW gets parked out front of my house. Simon himself tosses me the keys. "Enjoy," he says. "And I hope you renewed your license."

"As if that matters. I'm a Bianco, remember?"

He snorts and walks off. I stare at my new car and think about all the implications. I can go anywhere I want, anytime I want, but there's only one place I want to be. I check my watch and pull out my phone, and there's a message from Jackal with an address out in the suburbs, about a half-hour drive. I confirm that I got it, and that I'll be there at midnight.

I spend the next few hours working, but I can't concentrate. Instead, I shower and fuss over my clothes. I barely recognize myself as I lay out a bunch of different options on the bed, trying on each one and looking in the mirror to see if it's cute or not. I haven't cared about my appearance in a really long time.

But I want Jackal to like me. I want him to want me. Which is how I eventually end up in a short gray skirt, no tights underneath, and a quarter-sleeve black top. I skip the bra and go with a pair of sneakers, just in case. I'm nervous as hell when I get into the car at eleven-thirty, and I keep wondering if anyone's going to stop me on the way out, but the guards only give me a look and wave me past.

Out into the city. I can't remember the last time I was behind the wheel. I got my license when I was younger, right after the incident, mostly because my therapist at the time said it would be good for me. Luckily, the drive isn't bad and the BMW has navigation. I pull up into a gravel parking lot outside of what is clearly an abandoned warehouse.

I park and stare. This can't be right. I check the GPS, and yes, I'm at the correct spot, and it's the address Jackal sent—but why would he bring me to a place like this? The roof is metal and the windows are boarded over, and the majority of the wall space is covered in graffiti. Weeds grow in patches and a wooded area juts up against the far side of the structure.

My phone buzzes. I stare at it for a moment before picking it up.

Jackal: Come inside.

Jackal: There's a red door straight ahead. It's unlocked.

Laura: A normal, sane girl would turn around and get out of here.

Jackal: Lucky for us, you're neither. Come find me, little demon.

I stare at his messages before checking myself in the mirror. Only a little bit of makeup—I don't really know how to go all out —and my hair's down in waves. I have no idea if I look good or not, and hell, it doesn't matter.

"You're doing this," I whisper to myself.

I get out of the car, heart shuddering in my chest.

This isn't Cage. At least when we met there on the roof, I had a sense of familiarity. It was my brother's club and I know the place relatively well.

But this is Jackal's turf.

My feet crunch as I spot the door and head toward it. My hands are damp when I pull the handle, and the smell of must and mold hits me as I step into a narrow hallway. I pause, letting my eyes adjust, and realize there's a light source up ahead, through another interior doorway.

I head to it. This is crazy. I should be terrified, but instead I'm weirdly excited. This warehouse clearly hasn't been used in a really long time, and there's evidence that people have broken in over the years. Broken glass and scraps of trash litter the ground.

The doorway opens into a huge, high-ceilinged storage area. Pillars disappear into the darkness above. The ground is concrete and swept clean, though there are still small piles of trash. A ring of concrete blocks surrounds what looks like the leftovers of a fire. And up ahead, in the middle of the huge area, is Jackal.

He stands on a blanket, just like he did on the roof. But this time, there are lights around him, the kind of lights used on a construction site. I walk slowly in his direction, pulse racing, excitement ringing down my spine as the jackal mask tilts to the side.

God, he's beautiful. Tall and built like heaven. He's in a black suit like always, slim and clinging to his cut physique. I want to dig my fingers into his forearm and hear his heavy breathing. My stomach's a nervous, excited wreck.

It's perfect. This is exactly what I hoped for. The space is terrifying, like something from a horror movie, and Jackal stands in contrast to everything around him. He's beauty incarnate, and all I want to do is drop to my knees at his feet and beg him to make me feel something.

"I knew you'd come," he says when I get close enough.

"Don't act like you haven't been tracking my phone."

I swear, he's smiling under the mask. "That's true. I was keeping an eye on you the whole time."

I gesture around us. "Nice place. You live here?"

He ignores my nervous comments. "Do you want to know what game we'll be playing?"

Another butterfly flutter digs into my guts. I stare at him and slowly look down at the ground.

There are three boxes at his feet. They're typical clothing-sized boxes, though slightly deeper, like something a fancy department store would use to pack men's shirts. Each one is black and wrapped with a dark red bow. The color of fresh blood.

"I'm guessing it has to do with those."

"Tonight's game is simple." His head inclines toward the boxes. "You pick one. Whatever is inside will determine what I do to you."

My heart skips a beat. What he'll do to me . I stare at the boxes and try to imagine what they might contain, and my brain goes on a wild romp through various fantasies. Paddles, clamps, all manner of strange toys and equipment. I try not to whimper with nervous fear and excitement.

"What if I don't like what's inside?"

"This is a game, baby. If you don't want to play, then we won't play. But you'll like them."

I chew on my lip. "I can only choose one?"

"Greedy girl," he whispers and I nearly moan at the lust in his voice. "Only pick one. You couldn't handle two. Not yet."

I step forward. All three boxes look exactly the same. There's no way to make a rational decision here—all I have to do is point to one and trust him.

"I don't know," I say, looking up into his eyes.

"You're nervous. I understand. But I promise, if you say the word albatross , we'll stop. Hard limit."

"Any other rules?"

"If you want more rules, you can make them."

I shift from foot to foot. He's looking at me, steady and unwavering, and I swear his eyes are moving up and down my body. God, I love when he looks at me. It's exciting in a way I can't describe. Even when he's watching me through the cameras at my place, just knowing he's there makes my skin turn to goosebumps.

"Middle," I say, pointing. "And no other rules."

"Are you sure, little demon? You're open to anything I want?"

I try to sound braver than I feel. "It's just a game, right?"

"Get on your knees," he commands. "And open your surprise."

I hesitate, but I slowly sink down in front of him. I reach out and pull the box to me, surprised by how light it feels. He takes the other two and places them gently behind the lights, out of my view. Once he's back, I slowly untie the ribbon and take off the lid.

My jaw drops open.

Inside is a silk blindfold, black, and a braided silk rope, also black.

And beneath them is a deep black dildo. One of the biggest I've ever seen.

"Good choice," Jackal says and his tone is dripping with anticipation.

"What do we do with these?" I ask, staring.

He kneels down across from me and takes out the blindfold. "First, you put this on."

I take it and hold it in my hands. "Then?"

"Then I undress you, tie your hands behind your back, and fuck you with that dildo until you scream my name."

My eyes go very wide. "I don't, I mean, I'm not sure?—"

I'm not sure that thing is going to fit.

But Jackal only reaches out and strokes my cheek.

"Play the game, little demon."

I bite my cheek. I'm so turned on I could scream. I'm pooling between my legs, and I'm very aware of how exposed and vulnerable I am, but there's something about the mixture of nervous fear and animalistic desire that heightens all my senses. A rational person would refuse the blindfold and tell this masked stranger to use that huge silicone dick on himself.

Instead, I raise the blindfold to my face, and tie it nice and tight, plunging my world into blackness.