Chapter 2: I Want You

If you’d have asked me ten hours ago if I’d stand up to the monster hiding in my room, my answer would be fuck yeah! But now, standing here, completely frozen, my eyes stuck on the doorknob as it twists and turns… I swear I can't do shit. I can't even move.

Fight, Elena. Run. Move. Do anything. Don't just stand there like a moron. Do something!

The door creaks open ever so slowly it feels like an eternity. I don't want to see the monstrosity hiding behind the door. It will make this nightmare feel more real than it already is. I fling my phone to the ground and let out a ferocious scream I don't know has been clawing up my throat as I throw my entire weight forward, slamming my hands into the wood. The door collides with his solid frame, buying me a fraction of a second to figure out how to escape.

“Stop it,” he growls.

I throw myself through the gap, scrambling wildly into my bedroom. I don’t look back. I crash past the fluffy cushion in the center of my room, my eyes locked on the door ahead. I reach the threshold, my fingers wrapping around the frame of the bedroom door. I’m about to swing it open when a strong hand suddenly clamps around the back of my nightgown.

“Ah! Let me go!”

He yanks me backward with a brutal force. My bare feet lose their grip on the floorboards, and I go down hard, the air driven completely from my lungs as my knees and chest slam into the hardwood. Pain flares through my joints, but the terror is louder. I scramble onto my hands and knees, sobbing, dragging my body forward. Just a few more feet. Just the hallway. I can make it on my belly. I just have to get away. I continue to crawl, ignoring the pain in my bones.

“Leaving so soon, Little Bird?” his deep voice purrs from above.

Before I can make another inch of progress, a heavy manly boot firmly plants itself in the center of my lower back. The pressure isn't enough to crush me, but it pins me instantly to the floor, rendering my flailing limbs useless.

I gasp, my cheek pressed against the cold wood, tears blurring my vision. The weight vanishes, but before I can draw a breath to scramble forward again, he grabs me by the ankle.

“No! Let go of me! Let me go!” I shriek, trying to kick him with my free leg.

It’s like kicking a brick wall. He ignores my strikes entirely, dragging me backward across the floorboards as easily as if I were a rag doll. The friction burns against my bare stomach as my nightgown rides up, revealing my lace panties.

“Fuck you!”

“I know you want to,” he says coldly.

He pulls me right back into the center of the dark room, flipping me over onto my back. It hurts. Before I can roll away, he straddles my hips. He settles on top of me, bracing his weight on one arm and pins my arms above my head with his other hand. He spreads my thighs open with one of his legs, locking me in beneath him.

Unbidden tears slip from my eyes, rolling down to my ears. “Fuck you. I hate you. Just kill me already.”

Up closer, looking through the cutouts of his dark mask, I see the color of his eyes. They're the rarest most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. Those orbs look like they hold the universe, blue and shimmering with a lot of mischief.

“If you’re dead, it won't be fun now, will it?” he says.

“Better than letting you have your way with me.” I retch and spit on him. Literally.

He doesn't wipe the spit from his mask. I cry out, screaming as he uses his free hand to rip my nightgown off my body. I have only my panties on. My breasts are exposed. My nipples harden under the cold air, under his terrifying gaze. He traces my collarbone.

Everywhere he touches lights up and I hate to admit it. My skin ignites like it’s set on fire. He roams downward and clamps my right breast. His gloved fingers pinches my nipple, rolling it. My face turns red with humiliation and disgust. More embarrassment than disgust. He takes his hand off me slowly as if it pains him to do so. The way his eyes glow in the dark makes my heart race.

“You need to be punished.”

Five words. And my heart sinks.

He fumbles for something in his pocket. And when he gets what he wants, he takes it out. It’s a rope. God! I was scared it would be a knife or a gun.

“Please… no, don’t do that,” I quiver.

He ignores my plea. The rope bites into my skin roughly. He ties it like he’s a professional at this. I’m sure he’s tied

someone else before. The way it’s tight tells me everything I needed to know. I can’t get out of it even if I wriggle all day long. This man is not new to harassing women. I’m not the first. I’m seriously doomed. The realization hits me hard, I don’t know when I start to cry.

“Don’t do this to me. I haven't done anything wrong. If I wronged you, please forgive me.”

He doesn't answer or act like I’m talking.

I continue to beg. “I have money. You can take it. I’ll give you everything I have.”

At that, he pauses. “I don't want your money.”

I sniff, halting my tears, praying he listens to me. “Then what is it? What do you want? I’ll give you anything.”

A long pause. “You,” he says, his voice hoarse. “I want you.”

A shiver runs down my spine. He spreads my thighs further apart and leans down. My breath hitches. I feel air hit my bare skin as he tugs my panties aside, staring at the moisture glistening on my core. When his gloved hand flicks my clitoris, my body trembles involuntarily, setting my cheeks ablaze. His eyes lock on mine, intense.

I can see the demons fighting behind those blue abysses. The pupils have turned completely black. A low tremor vibrates off his chest.

“You’re very wet for me,” he notes. “Why do you keep denying that you want this? That you want me?”

“What—what do you mean?”

“Just shut up,” he commands, standing up abruptly.

He pulls out his phone from his pocket. “Smile for me, Little Bird.”

The blinding camera flash goes off, capturing me naked and helpless.

“What are you doing?” I demand.

“I wanted my first picture of you awake and aware.”

He stares at the photo, nods in approval, and slips the phone back into his pocket. My heart leaps out of my throat as he leans down, hovering over me again.

“A keepsake for my collection,” he whispers, his breath hot against my skin, sending a thrill through me. “Consider it a gift rather than a punishment. I’ll be seeing you very soon, Little Bird.”

He stands up and vanishes into the night, leaving me helpless and breathless. I start to weep, struggling against the rope. I realize a knot is beginning to slip. He must have untied it intentionally before he left. The rope loosens its grip. I’m finally free. But why do I still feel bound? Bound to a masked man who is taking over my life. Bound to a man who sees me even in the dark.

Why did he tie me up in the first place if he was going to let me escape? Why did he take a picture of me? Why didn't he have his way with me when he had me pinned beneath him? My mind is a mess. I curl into a fetal position, crying my heart out. I fucking hate him. If I see him again, I’ll kill him.

It’s all my fault. I started having the feeling of being watched a month ago before I began smelling his cologne in my house. Nathan doesn't use such an expensive, captivating scent. He barely uses any fragrance at all except I force him to.

I kept the man that comes to my house a secret at first. Because deep down, I had an intense feeling of being coveted, a quiet longing of being watched by some stranger. I have been with Nathan for so long, I have completely forgotten what it’s like to crave someone else's attention. To smile to myself when men stare at me a little longer than they should.

Ever since Nathan and I started dating three years ago, I made myself strictly for him. Only had eyes for him. Until the man in my house decided to make me his object of fixation, and I couldn't help my curiosity. It struck me that he might be dangerous. Still, I wanted to feel him watch me like I was the only thing that mattered to him.

And now… I’m paying for my sins.

After twenty minutes of lying on the floor, crying, and wondering if this was how people lost their minds, I decided to sit up. I needed to wash myself from the filth that had touched my body. Then I notice my cell phone beside me. I remember throwing it away in the bathroom.

Slowly, I reach for it. The battery is fully charged.

How is that possible?

The screen lights up. One new message.

See you tomorrow, Little Bird.