His Prized Possession

Part one-

Chapter One:

Margaret looked up as the bell above the door jingled. The snow had been coming down so hard for so long that she didn't think anyone would be coming into the hardware store today. Her father owned the little hardware store out of the way and only locals ever came in. When the weather got so bad they usually only had one or two customers a day. The day had been dragging on, only one person coming in just before the storm started, and so she was happily surprised when the strange man walked in. She jumped up as if to move toward him but her brother intercepted him before she had a chance and she gave him a hard glare as he winked at her. She settled back down behind the cash register, observing the tall stranger as her brother went to greet and assist him.

"Hey, how's it goin' today?" her brother asked the stranger. He turned to look at him, observed her brother silently, and then turned back around. It would normally not be strange to see a man with a thick black knit cap on his head in this weather, nor with such a thick coat and black gloves, but the fact that he did not remove his sunglasses even inside struck Margaret as odd. His reaction to her brother only seemed to add to the strangeness of this man. His cheeks were red and windblown and the snow was beginning to melt, making him glisten slightly.

"So, uh, can I help you find anything?" her bored brother asked as he followed the man to the wall. The man turned his head toward her brother just a fraction of an inch, before looking back to the wall.

"Jason," Margaret said and her brother looked at her. He raised his eyebrows at her and she shook her head, mouthing "no" to him. Jason winked and looked back at the man.

"I guess you are a hardware guy then huh?" he asked as the guy went straight to the wall with the wire cable. "Nothing better to do with your life?"

Her brother laughed nervously but the guy stopped abruptly and turned to look at him. His thick black sunglasses reflected her brother's surprised face back at him. She knew he had truly only meant it as a joke meant to make fun of both of them, not just the man, but this man obviously did not know that. Margaret grimaced at her brother's inability to tell a joke that was not rude or insulting. He apologized for any harm and backed away. The man went back to his searching and Margaret shook her head at her brother.

"Idiot," she whispered as she passed him and he shrugged. She walked over to him, hoping to supplicate the man some. In their type of business, such a small hardware store, word of mouth was everything. "Hey, sorry about my idiot brother."

The man turned his head to look at her but he did not immediately go back to his searches. He looked at her a moment and tilted his head, before he nodded slowly.

"He really does mean well. One of those people who doesn't know how to interact with people," she smiled and he paused as he reached for a pair of pliers. "Here, it looks like your getting a lot. I'll get you a basket."

She hurried over to retrieve him one and when she returned and held it out to him he placed his items inside before taking hold of the handle. He reached for a spool of wire and she was about to step away when she made a little noise. He paused and looked at her, hand not moving.

"That's technically," she raised her hands to do air quotes, "'top of the line', but this will hold more weight at higher tension. What are you looking to do with it?"

He picked up the new wire she had pointed to and examined it. He said nothing and she glanced back over her shoulder. Her brother was behind the register now, staring at her. He gave her a quick shake of the head and a shrug of his shoulders. She was about to leave when he stepped up to the razor wire and motioned to it. He looked back at her and she smiled at him, eager to help and end the monotony.

"Is it for fencing?" she asked but got no answer. "I would recommend this one if it is for safety. It's strong and could sever a digit if someone grabbed onto it," she laughed, "but it has to potential to hurt animals if they get tangled. If you live out in the wilderness and deer or whatever is around I'd recommend this one," she said and grabbed another spool, careful not to hurt herself. "if it's just to deter people. I mean, it's strong and can really do some damage, but it's not as sharp."

He grabbed the first she recommended and put it in the basket.

"Oh, and if you just want to tie someone down than those zip ties are great," she joked but her mouth went slightly dry when he reached for the black zip ties she had motioned to. She looked over to her brother to see if he had noticed it but he was scribbling something down in the ledger book. She laughed, trying to keep the slight discomfort from her voice as she spoke, "could I interest you in some duck tape as well?"

He looked at her, mouth pinching and turning downward. Slowly his head turned downward and she felt a chill run over her and her stomach turn when she came to understand, without the slightest doubt in the world, that he was slowly, openly, and without shame, checking her out. Her face turned red and she tried to pretend she didn't notice. She was pretty, not too skinny but athletic, with sandy brown hair and brown eyes, and she was used to creeps checking her out in college and back at home, but the fact that his appraisal had occurred after, perhaps an off colored, joke about duck tape, gave her the creeps.

"So… I'll be over at the checkout counter. If you have any more questions just let me know," she said and walked away. He turned his head and she could feel his eyes on her as she went back to the counter.

"Creep," she murmured to her brother as she watched him go back shopping. He began looking at tools and she looked at her brother. "I'm just going to go back to the office and sit with dad for a minute. Tell me when he leaves?"

"Sure," her brother said and she took one last glance at the man before slipping into the back of the store.

Three weeks later

Margaret looked over her shoulder as she slid the house key into the lock. Every time she closed the hardware store and walked home she seemed to have this strong feeling that she was being watched. It was an uneasy feeling, one that she was too embarrassed to share. Surely she was being silly. It was just because something about that man three weeks earlier had stuck with her and frightened her. After her brother had come to get her from their father's office he had told her that the man had told him to relay his thanks to her. Despite the seemingly kind words she had continued to feel put off by the whole scenario.

Now, as she gazed over the white landscape she saw nothing, not a single person in sight, but she felt eyes on her. It was dark, anyone could be hiding out there, waiting for her, watching her. She shook her head and let out a deep breath.

"Get a grip girl," she whispered and opened the front door to step inside. She was being utterly foolish. This wasn't a movie she was watching. This was real life and things like that didn't happen in real life. She entered the house and sighed, taking off her hat and scarf.

"Dad! Jason! I'm home!" she called and hung her hat and scarf up. She frowned as she noted the darkness of the house and the utter quiet. It wasn't totally strange. Her brother no doubt went out with friends on his night off and her father often went to bed early. He had not yet recovered from the death of her mother. But she had expected her brother to be in tonight and her father to be awake. He had been trying to spend as much time as possible with Jason since he would be going to college next year. She was worried about him being alone in this huge house a long, but she thought Jason would have stayed home with him tonight, especially so close to Christmas.

She hung up her coat and turned around. She went to the stairs to check on her father. Obviously no one was downstairs and she wanted to make sure that with Jason out of the house he was OK. She hoped he had eaten, but she knew that unless Jason had made it for him, he didn't.

"Dad?" she called softly as she got to the top of the stairs. "Did you eat?"

She got to his bedroom door and had her hand on the handle when she heard a creak to her right. Suddenly her ears were burning and her stomach was in knots, heart pounding in her throat painfully. She swallowed and it felt like she was swallowing knives.

Calm down. It's an old house. It makes noises, she told herself and let out a shaky breath. She was about to turn the handle again when she heard another creak and she whirled around.

"Jason I swear to God if you are trying to scare me I will murder you!" she called in a harsh whisper. She licked her bottom lip and waited. "Jason? Dad?"

She grabbed the handle from behind her and turned it. She stepped into the bed backward and turned to her father's bed, finding it made and untouched.

"Fuck me," she whispered and walked over to the phone on the far side of the room. She picked up the phone and brought it to her ear. She began to dial but her stomach turned when she realized that there was no dial tone and that each time she hit a button there was no sound. Her lower lip trembled and she dropped the receiver. It clattered on the floor hard and she ran to the lamp. She had thought that it would turn on. She really believed when she hit the switch it would turn on. When it didn't her stomach dropped and bile rose in her throat.

"No, no, no," she breathed. She looked around. She needed something sharp, something hard, something she could kill someone with. She couldn't find anything close to her and so she grabbed her father's favorite pen from the drawer. She considered taking the lamp, but it was far too heavy for her to carry and use adequately.

Just get to the front door. Get outside and run, run like you're on fucking fire.

She held the pen in her right hand, raised up by her face and ready to stab if need be. She inched forward and stepped out into the hallway, listening intently, ears perked up. She struggled to listen for noises but her breathing was too heavy. She held her breath and closed her eyes listening. When she heard nothing she stepped forward and opened her eyes to find an incredibly thin line of wire spread across the landing at the level of her face. She frowned and looked up, finding only wire cable spread out in front of her. She frowned and ducked underneath the wire.

She squeezed the pen in her hand, feeling it slip in her sweaty palm. She let out a long shaky breath and moved to the stairs. She could see the front door from where she was. She felt like she was going to drop dead from the fright. Her heart pounded in her ears, her throat hurt, and she felt dizzy. She was spots and she took a step down the stairs. It creaked and she bit her bottom lip. She squeezed the pen hard and then, with a deep breath, ran down the stairs, jumping two steps at a time, and sprinted for the door.

She wrapped her hand around the handle, ready to turn it, when she felt an incredible pain shoot through her palm and she ripped her hand back. Wrapped around the handle was razor wire like they sold at the store and she knew. She looked down at her bleeding hand and looked around. She began running for the back door, the pen still in her hand. She slammed into the kitchen table and cried out, but circled around it quickly.

She reached for the back door, not even thinking if this handle also had razor wire on it or not. Even if there had been it wouldn't have mattered. She was going to open that door.

And she did.

And she almost made it too.

She reached out, ready to plant a foot onto the un-shoveled, snow covered deck, when she felt a cold, plastic feeling hand on her elbow yank her backward. She yelped as she was pulled backward and she went flying onto the floor. The backdoor was slammed shut and she heard the sound of it locking. Pain shot through her limbs from the fall and she felt the warmth of her blood pouring down her wrist.

She looked up and her fear was so powerful she could not even scream. Her mouth opened but nothing came out. He stood there, tall, looming, powerful and totally in black. His eyes seemed to glow almost green and he tilted his head to the side. She began to scramble backward, forcing herself up onto her feet. He began looming forward and she finally managed to get to her feet. She was halted by the kitchen table that no doubt already caused a bruise on her hip and she raised the pen up, body trembling. He titled his head to the side and she barely managed to make out the sight of his lips curving upward.

"I'll kill you," she said but her voice trembled. He stepped toward her and she lashed out but he was not close enough. He pretended to lurch toward her and she tried to jab again. He did that over and over again until finally he got close enough. She jabbed hard, almost making contact with him, when he grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back. The pain of her arm being twisted forced her to move her body around and as the pen collided with the floor her breasts were pushed up against the kitchen table.

Tears began to come to her ears as she felt him push her down on the table with only one hand. He grabbed her free wrist, the one now slicked with blood, and brought it up to rest on top of the other. Tears spilled onto the table as she tried to squirm but he was too strong. His free hand went to squeeze the back of her neck and she felt his hips press against her bottom. She could feel the hardness, the undeniable feeling of his arousal, and she readied herself to be raped. Instead she felt the hand leave the back of her neck and softly stroke her hair.

"Shhh," he whispered. "Shhhh."

"Please," she cried. "Please don't kill me."

"Shhh," he hushed her softly and gently dragged his finger tips over her cheekbone. She felt his hand slide back to her hair and he gripped her ponytail. "Sshhhh…"

She did not really have time to register the pain that engulfed her as he yanked her hair, pulling her head back. In a swift movement he shoved her head back toward her desk and her forehead slammed onto the hard surface with loud thud.

She saw spots blotting her vision and a little cry left her lips.

"Shh," he said again and her hair was yanked back again and her head slammed down. This time she felt no pain and heard no thud but saw only black.

A/N: I just saw the Collector and the Collection recently and thought I would try my hand at a story. Let me know what you think? The next chapter will still be in the house but eventually they are going to make it back to his place.

This is will be a relatively violent story and it will be dark, but it will also be a romance. So I am giving you that warning now. Please don't flame me later if you think it isn't "in character."

Thanks!

Please review?