Fiendish: A Twisted Fairytale (12 page)

After I finished my Alfredo, I washed off my plate then dug my phone out of my purse to call Seth. The longer it took for him to pick up, the more nervous I got. When his voicemail picked up, an uncomfortable weight settled in my stomach. I left a message then settled back down to watch TV and tried to think about all the possible reasons he behaved as he did. Unfortunately the same reason kept popping up. He had to be involved with someone, either married or dating. It would make sense; a man like him couldn
’t be single. I started to feel pretty bummed about the idea of being some sort of ‘other woman’ by the time Macy finally got home.

“Okay woman, spill it,” she said, dropping her bag at the door.

“Hello Macy, how was your day? Mine was fine, thanks for asking,” I retorted as I turned off the TV.

“Whatever,” she replied, rolling her eyes as she walked into the kitchen. “No man does that kind of floral overkill if not for a good time.”

“Well, this one did.”

“Seriously?
Not even a hand job?” she asked, walking back into the living room with her bowl of Alfredo.

“Nope,” I replied pulling my knees to my chest. “He showed up out of the blue again at my office and said he was sorry for not calling and what not. I missed my bus, so he drove me to my appointment to see that Marco guy. After that horribly embarrassing situation, we had dinner at Carroll Street then he brought me home. Now you have all the beans.”

I left out the part where I’d invited him in and him rejecting that offer. I didn’t want to relive that moment again. Macy quietly ate her food as she thought over what I said. I could see her wheels turning while she tried to put her own spin on the situation.

“Maybe he was working or had to take a last minute trip.”

“Then why not just text me to say so? I mean I know we aren’t dating or anything close, but nothing at all for nearly two weeks then he just pops back up? Doesn’t that seem odd to you?”

“Don
’t know, hun,” she replied with a shrug. “I guess it is a little off. Did you ask him where he was or what he’s been up to?”

“No. I tried to make him go away, but he was…determined. Yeah, guess that
’s what I would call it.”

“What do you mean determined?” she asked skeptically.

“Just that he really seemed like he wanted me to know he was sorry, nothing bad.”

“Huh, well then, what do you think it is?”

“I feel like he’s leading some sort of double life. Like he’s married or, at the very least, seriously dating someone and just wants to get me in bed and move on.”

“That would make sense if he
’d tried to put the moves on you. But from your account of things, he hasn’t been pushy in the sex department at all.”

“Ugh,” I groaned, running a frustrated hand through my hair. “I hate it when you
’re right. He’s not tried anything physical with me at all. What the hell Mace? You and Mitch have been going at it like rabbits and see or talk to each other nearly every day. Meanwhile I’m…confused as hell. And at this point so freaking tempted to use that damn vibrator.”

Macy started laughing as she sat her bowl down on the table. “Aw, hun,” she said, scooting over to hug me, “just ask him. It will set your mind at ease. Quit stressing yourself and just ask him. Point blank, and get it all out in the open.”

I sat there with my head on her shoulder, thinking about what she said.
Just ask him if he’s married, easy, I could do that.
But how would I know if he was lying? Four years with Paul proved I couldn’t reliably tell if a person was being truthful with me.

Chapter 11

This was the first time I could remember not sleeping well. Not only did Calida invade my waking thoughts, but she had invaded my dreams. Those eyes, her lips, the way her cheeks flushed when I stood too close: all of it infecting me like a virus. I didn’t like how I reacted to her on Monday. For the first time in a long time I actually felt out of control of a situation, even if it was only temporary.
What the hell was Calida doing to me?
 

Angrily, I yanked the covers from my body. I needed a distraction, and luckily for me, I had one waiting.
 The plan was to let Pet sit for a few days, let her worry about what might come next, but like anything, plans change. I flipped the power back on once I reached the cellar and descended the stairs to find her curled up sleeping
.
She looked somewhat peaceful as her chest rose and fell with her slow easy breaths.

“Rise and shine, my Pet.”

She jumped up at the sound of my voice, and I could tell she had been crying. Her eyes were puffy and her makeup had left streaks down her face. She shielded her eyes, squinting against the light that flooded the room now.

“We
’re taking a field trip.” I walked over and grabbed her arm.

“Ow! Let go!”

Trying to wiggle out of my grip, she swung at me with her free arm, which managed to make contact with my face. I was stunned for a fleeting second that she had been able to hit me. It had never happened before.
She’s really messing with your head
. Fury burned within me. I grabbed her arm and twisted it back so hard I could imagine the tendons straining under the pressure, yet I pulled back even further until the pain caused Pet to drop to her knees. The scream she tried to hold back bubbled out of her. 

Releasing her arm, I watched as Pet fell forward. She looked up at me, rubbing her arm, tears spilling down her face. Grabbing her hair, I dragged her from the room.
 She kicked and screamed, trying to hold onto the door frame in order to get free, but her strength was no match for mine. I glanced around the back room, thinking about what I wanted to do. Meanwhile she continued to fight for her freedom. I could always strap her down and give her shock treatment, or I could put her in my specially-designed Iron Maiden. The medieval era was great for their torture devices.

“Decisions, decisions, my dear.
 Pick your poison.”

“Go to hell!” she said through clenched teeth.

Her fight and determination was refreshing, and I couldn’t help but laugh as I settled on my choice of entertainment. I pulled her over and handcuffed her to the pipes then ripped off the sheet she’d pulled off the bed to cover herself. She twisted and turned, trying to find a weakness in her restraints. Causally, I strolled over to the wall and removed my whip. I had it specially made to include sharp barbs of metal braided into the rope. That allowed for a deeper, more painful cut. 

She stopped struggling when she heard the snap of it behind her.
 I always did love that sound, it reminded me of watching Indiana Jones with Mother. A smile played on my lips when I took the first swing, and a horrific scream escaped from her throat. That sound was what I needed to drown out the thoughts in my head. The second swing caused her knees to buckle, and she cried out for me to stop. The third swing, her head slumped forward, and her body went limp, dangling from the cuffs. On the fourth swing, her body started convulsing, and urine ran down her leg and she begged for me to stop. The once-smooth skin on her back was replaced by large cuts and welts. Her sobs were deep and guttural, filling the room. She breathed in quick and shallow; almost panting like a dog. 

I gave her a total of ten lashes. With each one, she screamed more, even when I thought she had no more to give, driving me to continue.
 By the final strike, she had nearly passed out from the pain. I undid the cuffs, and her body crumpled to the floor. I stood over her, watching as her body shook from the aftershocks. I took a deep breath, feeling calmer now. Calida wasn’t affecting me; I still had everything under control.

“Get up,” I ordered.

She ignored the command, continuing to lie in a heap on the floor. I took her by the arm, roughly helping her to her feet. She stumbled along as I walked her back to her room. Once I released her, she curled up on the floor, holding her knees tightly to her chest. I locked the door and smiled when I heard the shaky sobs she couldn’t keep from releasing.

***

Macy had driven me to Marco’s studio since she was a fan of anything and anyone that had to do with fashion. Her eagerness worked well for me since the plan was for Patrick to pick me up directly from there. I didn’t have to worry about leaving my clothes behind, or worse, taking them with me. She and Marco quickly formed a bond because she naturally stroked his ego gushing over him. That bond turned into a double team when they both ignored my protests over the dress Marco had chosen.

Now I sat in the back of the limo, desperately wishing I had a coat or something to cover myself with, especially since Patrick didn
’t bother to hide his lustful stares. The dress was not one of the three I had seen days before, and it had me begging Marco for the low cut gold one because it actually gave more coverage than the thing I’d ended up in.

The aqua color of the dress worked well with my hair and skin tone, and it was the only thing I liked about it. The fact that it was strapless, coupled with the open scroll work design in the front, exposed way too much flesh for my comfort level. A single strap across my back held up the top of the dress, and I knew I would spend the entire night worried it would pop loose. The necklace he
’d chosen had a jewel piece that stopped just above my cleavage, as if I needed any additional attention drawn to that area.

The limo stopped. I held my clutch tightly in my hand, fighting back the nervous urge to vomit that threatened to overtake me. Patrick extended his hand to me, helping me out of the car. We were met with a dizzying amount of camera flashes that left me slightly disoriented.

Patrick put his arm around my waist, pulling me close, to pose for pictures. His hand rested on the exposed flesh of my lower back as he led me into the museum. The skin to skin to contact increased my uneasiness. Once we were inside, I stepped away, trying to keep a professional distance between Patrick and myself.

“Would you like a glass of champagne?”

“No thank you, Mr. Thorn.” The last thing I needed was to drink anything tonight. Patrick ignored my answer, grabbing two glasses off the tray as a waiter passed by.

“For tonight, call me Patrick,” he said,
clinking his glass to mine.

For the next hour or so, Patrick led me around the room, talking and laughing with people. The men looked at me the same way Patrick did, and the women gave me fake smiles hidden behind nasty, disapproving looks. I kept busy either entering names and phone numbers into Patrick
’s smartphone or handing out his business card to people that said they needed to get in touch with him later.

When an overly dramatic brunette came rushing towards us, I was more than grateful that she started dragging Patrick away. I managed to get a glass of water then started wandering around the museum. I
’d never been to the High before, so I was very excited for a chance to look at some of the exhibits. I made my way to the room that housed the items that were going to be up for bid later in the evening. Most of the pieces were artwork of some sort, but I found myself captivated by one particular painting. It showed a woman in a white dress standing at the edge of a cliff. Her face was obscured by her flowing black hair. The sea raged below, and her arms were stretched out to the side as if she were about to take flight. I found myself wondering if she was there to jump, and if so, what had driven her to that point.

“It
’s a beautiful piece,” a familiar voice said. “Are you considering making a bid?”

“Not likely since everything here is a tad out of my price range,” I answered, turning to face him.

Seth stood before me wearing his signature sexy smile. The dark, three-piece suit he wore was most likely tailor made with the way it fit him. He was good looking in his casual wear, but if looks could really kill, he was lethal in his formal wear.

“You look…very handsome tonight.”

“Thank you. Your choice of attire is quite surprising.”

“It wasn
’t my choice,” I replied defensively, crossing my arms in front of my body, a futile attempt to cover myself.

Having the few moments alone, I had almost forgotten the risqué dress Marco put me in. However, under Seth
’s penetrating gaze, I was reminded of how revealing it was.

“I
’m surprised to see you. You never mentioned anything about coming.” I wanted to add that he never mentioned his plans, but that would have sounded rude. I didn’t do rude.

“Pleasantly surprised I hope,” he replied, stepping closer. “It was a last minute change of plans. I get invitations to these types of functions all the time. Most times, I don
’t attend because they are dreadfully boring. Instead, I just send a check, since it’s really my money they’re after.”

“So why come tonight?” I asked looking around, waiting on the approach of his possible date.

“I wanted to see you,” he replied, closing the remaining small gap between us. “I suffered through the dress selection. How could I not see the final choice?” Seth took ahold of my hands, gently moving my arms which were still across my body. I glanced around, noticing the looks we were getting, ones he chose to ignore. “I’m pleased with Marco’s pick.”