Your Body Disagrees

1378 Words
ARABELLA Morning comes like all the other days—me waking up in an empty room that I spend all day in. I didn't sleep after the nightmare. I couldn't. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Liam's face. I heard his voice. It's worth it. I go to the shower, washing away all traces of yesterday—Maximillian's lips on my ear. As soon as I get out, the door opens. No one ever knocks. Sofia walks in with a tray. Bacon. Coffee. She sets it on the nightstand. Turns to leave. "Please." My voice comes out hoarse from screaming in my sleep. She stops but doesn't turn. I move closer to her. "Please," I say again. "Give me your phone. Just for a minute. I need to call my boyfriend. I need to know he's okay." Sofia turns. Her face is blank. Like always. "Boyfriend," she scoffs. "I won't tell him where I am. I won't say anything about Max. I just… I need to hear his voice. Just once. Please." She watches me. Not even a bit of sympathy on her face. "Put yourself in my shoes. What if—" "I will never be in your shoes, little girl." Her voice comes out sharp. What little girl? She is so freaking annoying. I bite my lip but don't say anything. "If you want to call someone, you should tell Max." I clench my fists. "He won't let me. You know he won't." "You think I would?" She laughs—for the first time, she laughs. Then turns back toward the door. "Why are you so emotionless?" The words come out before I can stop them. Sofia stops. Her hand on the door. I step closer. "Do you even feel anything? Or are you just like him?" She turns slowly. Her face blank again, of course. "Who do you think you are that I should help you call your boyfriend?" Her voice is low. "You better get your act together. Do whatever Max wants. Or you won't even see your boyfriend ever again." My chest aches. "But he's never told me what he wants me to do!" I'm yelling now. I know I'm yelling but I can't stop. "He won't tell me anything! He just locks me in here and comes whenever he likes!" "You don't know what to do? But I already told you what to do." She circles me. "I will never betray my parents for a sick psycho," I say. I feel her hand on my throat in seconds. "Your family made him this way. It's your fault. Stop being a dummy." She let go of my neck causing me to stagger backwards My hand going to my neck. "Get ready. You're going to Spain in a few days." The words don't make sense at first. "Spain?" I blink. "What are you talking about?" Sofia crosses her arms. "You have a few things to do for Max. He'll give you the details when he has time." "I'm not going anywhere." My voice rises again. "I'm not a toy." The slap comes fast Stinging. My head snaps to the side. My cheek burns. The sting travels through my jaw, up to my brain. I stand there. Frozen. My hand pressed to my face. She lowers her hand. "I have had it with you. If I were you, I would take my advice." I resist the urge to hit her back—just because I believe one day I might be able to convince her to help me. "You won't. You won't betray your parents." "You don't know me," she says calmly, then walks out, slamming the door behind her. And I'm alone again. I sit back on the bed and stare at the food absentmindedly. Spain. They're taking me to Spain. I laugh at myself as I touch my face—my cheek still feels painful. I left my parents thinking I could start my life over with Liam. Why is my life so hard? Why am I stuck here while my boyfriend suffers? I can't just keep screaming and complaining. I have to really find a way to get out of here. Or I might never see Liam or my parents again. But what? What should I do? Should I make him fall for me? Nah. I shake my head at the thought. He is a psychopath. That would be mission impossible. Should I poison him? When he dies, I am free. Nah. I have never killed someone before. Besides, he would kill me first if he found out I even attempted anything. Should I set the room on fire? When he brings me out, I will take the chance to escape. Too dangerous. What if they don't really care and the fire burns me to death? Their goal is to make my parents suffer anyway. Should I try to pick the lock with a knife until it budges? Will it even budge? Should I pretend to cooperate? Act sweet. Make him trust me. Then run when I get the chance. With every thought, my mind echoes: suicide mission. So I just stay curled up on the bed. --- ........................................................................... I don't know how many hours pass before my mind goes blank. In fact, I go depressed. Maximillian comes in. I don't move. I am not in the mood to talk to him at all. "I bought barbecue," he says, setting a small stool near the bed and placing a wrapped package on it. Did I hear right? Maximillian is bringing me barbecue. Who knows what he is thinking. I get up from the bed. "Is it poisoned?" His hand finds my neck. He doesn't press hard—he just traces it slowly with one finger, putting his other hand at the back of my neck. "Poison is boring. I would use my hands." "What are you doing?" I ask, my heartbeat tripping. "Shhhh. Stay quiet." I swallow. The sensation is fire. I want to scream stop. But I can't move my lips. This is not a dream, is it? Why is he doing this? I fall back onto the bed. He brings his lips to my neck, sucking and biting. I am screaming in my head. But the rest of my body is vibrating. His mouth goes down to my breast, targeting my n****e. I am unable to stop the sound leaving my mouth. "Tell me to stop," he whispers. I really want to say it. But I am unable to. His mouth on my n****e is driving me wild. His hands go down, touching me through my panties. I spread my legs. I promise it is a subconscious act. Believe me. I can smell myself. I try to close my legs. But he taps my center hard as my juice seeps through. "Please…" was the only word I could form. Was I begging him to let me go? I am not sure. I am betraying Liam at this moment and I deserve to be killed, but for some reason my body doesn't agree. "Has your boyfriend ever made you feel this good?" I jump up immediately. How dare he mention Liam at this moment? I get up from the bed. He brings out his phone, dials a few digits. "Do you want to talk to him?" He waves the phone in my face. I crawl forward. "Yes, Max. Please." "It's Maximillian." "Okay, okay… Maximillian, please." "Of course I will let you talk to him." My heartbeat triples. "On one condition though—you break up with him." "I ca…n't. Maximillian, please don't… Please, I am begging you." This man makes me do things I am so ashamed of. I don't know whether to hate myself or hate him. "Let me know when you decide." He walks to the door. "And eat the barbecue. It's still hot." "I hate you." "No you don't. Your body totally disagrees." And he is right. I should hate him. He has humiliated me in every way. But I don't hate him, making me hate myself even more. I sit there. The smell of my own arousal and the barbecue fill the air. I am so embarrassed that I wish I could just kill him.
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