By the time he came upstairs I was dressed and near his weapons, deliberately with my back to him, fiddling with the wicked knife he favored often.
I smiled to myself at what he must look like seeing it in my delicate hand, seeing how close it was to my throat.
He said nothing, though his swallows were highly audible and I turned around. His expression was what I hoped it to be, unspeakable fear and an uncompromising desire for survival. Even though it was not his own he worried for, it was close enough.
I flashed him a grin and dropped it, it clattered to the dresser top, but I was already on the move, sitting in his chair sifting through his children's books he couldn't even read.
With balled fists no doubt the size of my head, he came strenuously closer, eyeing the other switchblade I had carried over with me to his infantile robin blue table, clutching it in my hand.
At his hesitation I was glad my gamble that he would care if I were hurt paid off.
"Did you know six hundred thousand people go missing in a year?" I asked him rhetorically, feigning being engrossed on my other task.
I didn't really care if he knew, just wanted to make him feel stupid for not knowing. He grunted his response and I didn't bother hiding my smile that my intention had hit home.
"Four thousand bodies are recovered out of that huge number at best." I answered, fingering to the next page. "A couple hundred thousand of that are women my age, naïve little bees, thinking the world wouldn't come for them.
"My brother, Darren, the one you killed, had been volunteering for years to help recover bodies from the woods, ridges...lakes. Each one more grotesque than the last, some rotten with death by the time he finds them. Unlucky others freshly cold, with evidence that the desecrated had been fucked recently despite their departed status." He flinched and I moved on pretending not to notice.
"Have you ever done something so terrible?" I finally looked at him fully, finger still ready to turn the page at his answer.
His throat bobbed with words he wanted to say but I didn't care for them.
"Yes or no, Jamie." I spit his name with boredom etched in my tone.
He sighed angrily but shook his head, "No."
I nodded and went back to his book.
"He told me often to check my surroundings, to listen to my gut when it screamed that something was wrong. He told me women developed that six sense from evolution. You do know what that is right?" I rolled my head towards him setting the finished book aside, pulling out another one.
At his hesitation to answer and I slid the blade down my bicep and his nostrils flared, eyes melting wildly, proofing he could react if he wanted to.
He flinched at the blood it drew but it was a surface scratch at best. He didn't need to know that however.
When he gave a semblance of an answer at my threat I went on, unfazed by his brutality.
"He said women can predict the future, believed in everything a woman said, even dying to protect one from simply getting hit because of her adulterous behavior." I rolled the word laughing at myself, "He would've aneurismed and died knowing my situation if you hadn't gotten to him first."
My palms flattened on the table on either side of his knife while I looked into the cruel eyes of my captor, he was seething but didn't dare move, exactly how I wanted him to feel.
"Do you intend to shove a knife through my throat when you grow bored of me?" I asked sickly sweet, thousands of emotions crossed his features but one settled in the hard set of his jaw. Frenzied determination. "Are you to leave me in the ridges or valleys of an unmarked grave to pass by and reminisce about the warm of my body? Or would you simply keep me here, buried in the backyard like the graves of my family?"
His eyes went wide at my concession of guilt, that I had traveled around without him knowing, that I had stumbled upon the mounds of dirt not to far away from his backyard in the tree line of another property.
Jamie turned and tossed thoughts, then he smoothed out his face. "You will never leave me." He gasped out, already growing hoarse, but seeming completely fine with referring to himself as a person. "I called you mine."
The last part was nearly lost between his gasps and snarls, but unfortunately I heard it, and I hated myself for not hating it.
I pushed the knife away and sighed, crossing my arms over my chest. Whatever was to happen next was certainly worth this rush of power, how the mighty have fallen, indeed.
He snatched the dagger away, pocketing it, shaking his head slightly. Relief washed over his features for only a moment before rage snagged his chest and he gave over to it. "Too far." He snapped kicking the table out of the way. "You went too far."
It was amazing how much better he spoke when angry, still inhuman but better.
My mouth soured at his hypocrisy, "And you didn't?" I yelled incredulous, "Every single thing you've done was too far! You killed my brother, took me, forced me into marriage and now force feed me to keep me from dancing out of your reach."
His nostrils flared as his breath quickened, he came in deathly close, the circle of his strong beautiful nose pressing to mine. "What matter," he drawled, breath whispering across my cheeks, "I can go further." He imitated me, my pitch and cadence.
I struck him across his face, but he didn't move, not even a wink to prove I had hit him at all. A fiery look took me back, as if that had sealed my coffin, a smile contradicted his burning gaze.
Now you did it, It seemed to say.
I was ripped from the chair, thrown across the bed and bounced off its springs. His shirt was pulled over his shoulders and discarded to the ground, my gown followed it, leaving me nude and shaking.
He took a step back, trailing blue over my body, lingering in some places, working quickly over the others. "Say," He whispered haughtily, sounding much like the predator he was. "Nothing before me?"
My breath hitched wildly, I looked towards the door then back to him.
He followed my gaze and grinned lazily. "Try, but useless."
He loosed his belt and it slipped to the ground next to my dress. "Say." He demanded again, rolling his head on his shoulders, bones cracked with the movement and I was heaving with fright.
I refused to answer and his grin only widened, "Was hoping...you wouldn't."
His hand shot out, clasping my ankle and dragging me down the bed towards his waist, he was much taller than me, but his cock was eye level.
I fought him viciously, dragging my nails over his skin, drawing blood, seeping my teeth into his hands and arm until I tasted metal. But he did not give in, growing more and more frenetic.
His fingers dug into the sensitive flesh on the inside of my thigh to keep me still while his other hand moved punishingly across my slick pussy. He grunted his pleasure when my legs trembled and dipped lower, pushing a finger into me.
Tears ran down my temples as I yelled curses and flipped him off, bucked against him every step of the way. He would not take me tonight, I'd make sure of it. I cocked my leg back and kicked him in his stomach but again he didn't move, slapping it out of his way and seeping his finger in more.
My lips parted at the foreign sensation, I could feel him inside of me, it was disgusting. He took advantage of my stillness and moved, putting my legs firmly behind his back, holding them there with his elbows while I dug into his arms and chest.
