A/N: This is a re-posting – just thought it deserved another look. Enjoy.

"If ever words were spoken

Painful and untrue

I said I loved, but I lied"

The breaking took longer than I expected. I knew it wasn't going to be easy. Not with her. Lesser women would have crumbled far sooner. Still, I thought the game would be over too soon. I underestimated her again.

The first week was the best and the worst. There were numerous escape attempts. She screamed at me, railed at me, threatened me, but she never begged. No, not then. I knew she wouldn't, but it still filled me with a fierce pride when she spat at me or slapped me. Her rage was sweet, like an intoxicating nectar that I couldn't get enough of. I taunted her, hurt her and left her for hours, but she didn't give in. She never knew that I stayed so close I could hear her sobs, her prayers, her anger and desperation in the darkness. I forced myself to listen. Maybe it was my way of punishing myself for what I was doing to her. In truth, there were times when I felt guilt stirring at the edges of what little conscience I had left. But it was never enough to release her. Never that.

"In my life all I wanted

Was the keeping

Of someone like you"

In the middle of the second week she had resorted to an odd mixture of rage and apathy. My taunts took longer to elicit a response, so I changed my tactics. I admit, I teased her mercilessly during this time. I 'forgot' to cuff her before I left, or I would leave the door slightly open, admonishing her not to move while I went to another room on some pretense or another. She never failed me. I relished the chase, the hunt. Her ability to improvise never ceased to amaze me. So often I wondered what she would have been like if someone in my line of work had gotten to her at an early age. She'd have been an amazing manager with her ability to think clearly under pressure. Ah, but that wasn't why I'd stolen her away, was it?

"As it turns out

Deeper within me,

Love was twisted and pointed at you

Never ending pain, quickly ending life....."

By the fourth week, the escape attempts had almost ceased. That was when she surprised me and nearly got away. She'd managed to hide a plastic fork under her mattress. I didn't know what was coming until the fork was embedded in my thigh. Obviously, that wasn't where she was aiming. She caught me by surprise, I'm ashamed to say. She rushed past me and was out the door almost before I realized what was going on. It took me hours to get her back into her cell after that. I was almost wishing I'd never started this by the time we landed back in the little room, both of us bloodied and bruised, neither of us giving an inch. I had to punish her, though secretly, I was elated that she was still fighting me, still so full of spirit. That night, I thought she'd break, that she'd beg me, but she never did. The tears fell and I could see the pain in her eyes, but she still refused. She was fucking magnificent.

"You keep this love

Thing

Love

child

Love

Toy

You keep this love

Fist

Love

Scar

Love

Break

You keep this love"

It was more than six weeks before she even began to crack a little. Once I saw that thin fracture in her veneer of strength, it was time to switch tactics. I moved slowly, showing only a very small kindness infrequently. At first, it was simple. A long hot bath, then straight back to her little room. A short walk with me in the back yard, her hands cuffed with me holding on to her. Then a ride into the city in my car. I admit, I was a little nervous about that one, but it went over without a hitch. She rode beside me, meekly, silently, the shadows under her eyes the only indication that anything was amiss.

"I'd been the tempting one,

Stole her from herself

This gift in pain, her pain was life"

After six months, I knew I had her. She was mine, unequivocally. She actually took pains to hide her identity when we went out in public. The victory was sweet, but it lacked something. She now shared my bed every night and god, how I enjoyed her beautiful body. At first, it was fucking amazing, but then I started to get annoyed with her easily. I'd get pissed and scream at her and she'd curl up on the bed and cry, begging me to just stop screaming at her. Then, I'd just want to hurt her. When it was over, she'd go into the bathroom, clean out the cuts and put ointment on the bruises, then climb back into the bed with me that night and tearfully whisper apologies for making me so angry. It was like having a fucking four year old.

"And sometimes, I feel so sorry

I regret this

The hurting of you"

Now, she sits beside me on my sofa, quietly watching the TV. When she looks up and sees my eyes on her, she gives me a shy smile and asks if I want her to get me a beer. I have to curb my temper when she looks at me like that. I can't figure out why it pisses me off so much. This is what I wanted, right? I stole her, I broke her and now she's mine, body and soul.

"But you made me

So unhappy

I'd take my life and leave love with you"

Last week, I actually tried to set her free, to get her to leave and she refused. She cried and clung to me, begging me to take her back, promising me she'd be better, she'd do better, she'd do whatever I wanted if I'd just tell her what I wanted. I was so enraged I broke four of her ribs. I had to take her to the fucking hospital and deal with all the questions, the accusing stares, the pitying looks at her. It's almost funny when I think about it. The police actually questioned her, and she sat right there and lied to them. Told them she'd fallen down the stairs or some such shit. She didn't even give them her real name. That's when it hit me. I'd created this. It was my frankenstein and now I had to deal with it.

"I'd kill myself for you.

I'd kill you for myself

You keep this love"

She scoots closer to me on the sofa and it's all I can do to sit still and not push her away from me. I'm disgusted with what she's become. I can see the hurt in her eyes when she looks at me. Damn it, she must have felt me stiffen when she moved closer. I sigh heavily and relax, allowing her to nestle against me. Maybe tomorrow I'll end it. I've been thinking about it off and on for several weeks now. Just finish the job that I started on that Red Eye flight to Miami. At first it was just an idea, but it's consuming my thoughts more and more. Yes, I think I'll just do it. Just do it tonight and get it over with. For now, I focus my attention on the flickering TV as her hand slips beneath the waistband of my pants. I sigh again. Well, maybe not tonight. Tomorrow, then.