“Because I need to.”
Shit. Need? I was lost, confused, and panicking mainly because he confused me.
“And if I say no?” I croaked.
Courage was coming to me today because, I guess, I simply had nowhere left to go. He would kill me eventually, by accident if not on purpose. This was a simple statistical certainty.
Death might be easier than what I had suffered.
“Say no.” He shrugged. “I will make you.”
“Oh.”
Fatigue engulfed me.
Somehow this had poured concrete into my veins. I collapsed slowly onto my knees, scrunching sand beneath my legs. My head was heavy, and I leaned forward, teetering, mouth slack. Under my palm, my gathered dress slid over my thigh.
An ant wandered over a twig. A large, pale-yellow flower blossomed on a vine that strayed onto the path. More of those flowers were dotted throughout the underbrush.
Flowers. Then I realized why this struck me as strange. I hadn’t really seen flowers or beauty or nature, not the details, not really seen them, for years. I wanted to cry for that vanished part of me.
I cleared my throat and dared to look at him. “Actually, you can’t make me do this.”
Was this what they called a Mexican stand-off? If so, it was a drained one. I’d gone from turned on, as usual when confronted by him, to resigned and exhausted.
“Don’t be so certain.”
We were having an actual discussion.
Talking was not Isak’s way.
I merely blinked and waited. Could he make me help him be more human? I didn’t know how to do it even when consciously aware.
Isak sighed.
His face changed and showed expressions I could not interpret because I knew nothing of his motivations, of what drove a mesmer. Being a blank, unreadable golem was more him.
The wash of the ocean rolling onto the shore was a constant background noise.
It made me think of one of those old movies where a man is frantically trying to tune a radio and getting endless static, because outside the world has collapsed and the monsters are approaching his door.
In my world, the monster had already broken in.
Despite this, hope came into being deep inside me. A gleaming morsel of it unwound like a seedling and reached for the light.
Maybe this was something worthwhile?
Was it possible he had changed?
He went to one knee and plucked the nearest yellow flower, twirled it. “Put your clothes back on. We’ll return.” He looked up. “To the house. Here. Have this as proof.”
Frowning, I took it. “Of?”
“Of me wanting more than I have before.” Then he stretched his arm and grabbed my nipple in finger and thumb then ground them together until I yelped. “Just don’t think I’m now a fucking angel.”
Grimacing, teeth gritted, I said the obvious, “Never.”
He didn’t notice me drop the flower.
“Good. Clothes on.” He drew my nipple outward so that I had to shuffle forward on my knees. “I’d rather discuss this further in private, away from the bugs and the crocs.”
“Crocs?”
“Crocodiles.”
Of course. As if I’d been in any doubt. Why were we still here?
While he waited, I quickly pulled my dress over my head, slipped it into place. My panties were not returned. I had to lead the way over the same trail we had come down. We were passed by a laughing couple returning to the resort, then a family group equipped with flashlights.
I watched them go, filled with a yearning for normality. Why me? It was a question I had asked myself many times.
Then another man passed us, heading in the opposite direction. Dark, short hair, shadowed eyes, an olive complexion, and black leather gloves – an unremarkable man if not for the gloves. There was one other thing – I recognized him. He was one of the men who had assaulted me at Ted’s house. Not rape, but he’d come close to it.
His subtle double-take then faint sneer almost made me halt, but I kept going.
I kept walking, in a daze. What should I do?
It seemed as if Isak had not recognized him. Though he had been concussed.
If I said nothing, would more of those men arrive? Probably. In the confusion might I not escape? Especially with Isak a little less all-powerful. It was possible, but unlikely, and being a captive of these other men held more uncertainty than any day with Isak.
Which was both alarming and reassuring. Up to a point, I trusted Isak more than a random, murderous criminal.
We entered the little resort house, and I turned to speak. I should tell him.
“Ummm.”
One finger held upright was all it took to silence me.
Torn, I stared at that finger and his face.
“Crawl up.” He flicked the finger, indicating the spiral stairs.
Very well, suck on this, Isak. Condemn yourself to whatever happens. They will fuck you up if they catch you.
How had they found us? The red Porsche might be how, if they had seen it taken? I imagined Ted and his associates as some vast spider-web affair of Australia-wide bad guys. Unlikely. They must have lucked out.
I kneeled on the tiled floor and put my hands on the first of the timber steps.
The loud rev and roar of an accelerating motorbike reminded me of the black gloves that man wore. Bikers might network, when they weren’t killing each other.
They might.
Isak gave my butt a nudge with his bare foot, cunningly using the front of his foot to edge the dress material between my legs, before lifting me, a little, off the floor. “Go. At the top, expect punishment.”
Whatever. He didn’t want to know, and I could not talk.
I crawled slowly, growing ever more aware of how he followed, like some creature stalking behind wounded prey, and also growing ever more aroused. For once, I was
