Chapter 12
For the full two weeks all the men were weary of me. Lee had my full wrath, truth be told, while the others – it was mainly just fun. Lee had given me the bedroom on the first floor, so it would be easier for me to get around. I had to concede that it was easier to stay at his house. I had people who cared for me and helped me around his home.
But I was happy when I got to go home. I loved Lee's extended family and all, but I wasn't comfortable around them. My childhood wasn't the greatest and seeing them all happy, reminiscing about the past? It made me angry. Hurt that I didn't have that life and angry I had no one to talk to like they were conversing.
Finally the day came when Lee took me to physical therapy. They were gonna take my stitches out too. I was wearing short yoga shorts and a purple t-shirt. I was fidgeting, pulling them down to make them appear longer.
"Stop it Aria." Lee finally said. "I know you feel self-conscious, but you are only drawing more attention to yourself."
"But Lee," I stopped. My barriers were supposed to be so indestructible. This didn't include talking about my feelings. Drawing a deep breath I continued. "They can see the wound."
"And it's something to be proud of," Lee's hand came to rest on top of mine. I gasped as my hand was on my thigh, thus so was his. He entwined our fingers together. "You don't seem to care that I've seen it."
"Because you are and have been a great friend to me, Lee," I said. His fingers were burning into my bare skin.
"And that makes it different?" Lee raised his eyebrow at me.
"Yes, because you can't judge me!" I stubbornly said.
"Ah, I see." Lee finally said, figuring out what was really behind my walls.
"Aria Johnson?" the nurse finally called. Lee helped me up from my chair.
"See you in an hour or so," I told Lee. He nodded and opened a magazine. Sighing I made my way down the hall with the nurse towards the torture room.
"Come on!" My physical therapist, Dwal urged me. "You are a police officer! Don't be a wimp!" Struggling to raise my shaking legs, I collapsed and gave my therapist a glare. His dark hair was short and he was balding. Though he made no effort to hide it; he had tattooed the top of his head.
"I can't do anymore!" I shrieked. He nodded his head.
"You did better than I expected."
"Wait, what?" I asked confused. He just grinned.
"Most people can only do about 5 to 10 reps after such an injury as yours. You were able to do nearly thirty," My body was bathed in sweat, my breathing was ragged and I had surpassed most people? Hooray for me. "Now I want you to rest." Dwal said.
"Will do, Dwal," I promised. He helped me up – my muscles were groaning and protesting this movement.
"I'll see you in three days!" Dwal said as I began to hobble down the hall toward where Lee was waiting for me.
"Sounds good!" I called back. I made it to the waiting room, where Lee was reading another magazine when I emerged. He looked up, put the magazine away, and literally took me off my feet.
"Lee what are you doing?" I asked him as he held me off the ground in a bridal carry.
"Taking you to the car," he gathered the crutches in one of his hands and a man held the door open for him.
"I can walk!" I hit him on the shoulder. "I'm not an invalid."
"I know. But you seem like you're in pain." He walked to the car, where he finally put me back down on my feet. Opening the door, "In you go, my lady." Rolling my eyes, I got into the seat. Hissing softly as he shut the door – he was right. I was in pain – a lot of it. Tremendous amounts of it as a matter of fact. Though I wasn't going to tell him that. Getting in the car he looked at me concerned.
"Do you mind if I stop at the store?" Shaking my head, he started the car. We made a pit stop at the local grocery. "Aria, I won't be too long." He promised. "Is there anything you need?"
"No Lee, I'll be fine." I smiled softly "Roll down the windows and you can take the keys with you." Anxiously watching me, Lee nodded and did as I asked.
"I'm fine!" I insisted. "Just a tad tired." Lee kissed my cheek before going into the supermarket. Smiling I locked the doors and leaned back in the seat. I could hear people milling around me, before, exhausted, I drifted off to sleep.
Nervously I glanced around, looking for a weapon. I could see a hammer and I reached for it, but the chain stopped me. Tears welled in my eyes, as I put too much pressure on my already bruised and bloodied wrists.
"Oh, my god," I murmured. My throat was raw from screaming all day. Now I barely could croak. Pulling at the chains accomplished nothing, besides swollen, bruised and bleeding wrists. I hadn't seen him all day, for that I was decidedly thankful.
Only not seeing him brought dread to my stomach. He was usually here with me, never letting me out of his sight. I was his little pet, his obsession. I could barely thing but prayed it wasn't because he had found a new victim. What would Lee do if they found my remains?
The steel door opening brought me out of my musings. He was standing there in the doorway. Wearing black jeans, a green t-shirt, and black shoes. He was staring at me. With those unnerving black eyes, that felt as if they would pierce right through my soul. His black hair was styled in an almost hip fashion, The power he emitted – the feelings that washed over me as he stood there, were almost too much, too scary.
"Hello my pet!" He greeted me in his cheerful voice. "Now I heard that you were being noisy. Is that right?"
"Uh - " my voice cracked painfully and looked up at him with fearful eyes.
"Oh dear," he said sympathetically. "Your voice tells me Azog was right. Now what to do to punish you?" He eyed me for a few moments. "Azog!" He finally called out.
"Yes, Mair?" Azog asked in his deep voice.
"Take her down the hall." He commanded. Azog grabbed me, roughly, and undid the chains. I was too terrified to try and get away. By the time I cleared my mind, we were in a room. Azog chained me to a steel table, before leaning again the wall with a smirk on his face. He entered shortly thereafter, making me gasp.
"Aria, love, what must I do to make you realize you are mine?" He began lighting a fire." Always and forever." Frightened I couldn't comprehend what he was doing or why. Kissing me roughly, he walked back to the fire.
"Why?" I barely managed.
"Why? Beautiful Aria, I have always been in love with you." He turned away from the fire. "And you need to realize you are mine!" He yelled. Yelping, my head slammed back onto the metal table. My eyes welled with tears, in the days that I had spent with him, he had never raised his voice to me. "Oh darling!" He rushed to my side. "I never meant to make you cry." He stroked my hair. He kissed me, softly this time. Startled I gasped, he took advantage of that surprise. His hands began to wander along my frame. Azog cleared his throat.
"Yes. Time for that later." He gave me a smile. "First we have to deal with your punishment." Gulping, I watched him with wide eyes. Making a decision, I decided to play along with his sick game.
"Please don't hurt me?" I begged. He softened and looked at me with concern in his eyes.
"You have to be punished." He looked honestly contrite.
"Please?" Making another decision, "Love?" He looked happy.
"She's almost mine, Azog!" Azog looked at me cautiously. He was suspicious of me.
"Or Mair, she's playing you." Azog said, correctly pegging my game.
"Never matter," Mair waved his hand about. "After a few weeks she'll be mine, body and soul." He said that sinisterly. My skin crawled. "Now I apologize, but this, just means that you belong to me now."
He held up a glowing red brand. It was a M. Shrinking back, he came closer. "Azog!" Azog held me down as he put the brand on my right shoulder. I screamed, as the smell of burning flesh filled the room. Azog finally let me go, once he was completely done. Coughing, blood splattered on the table.
"She's injured her throat." He looked at me. I was wondering if he suffered from bipolar or multiple personality disorder or something like that. "You are just going to have to not use your voice for a while."
"That's a relief." Azog said. He looked at Azog.
"You can go." Azog gave me one last glance and left the room. Mair moved closer to me. Leaning beside me, he kissed me again. Resigned I responded to his cold and slimey kiss. His left hand wrapped in my hair and his right slid down my body slowly.
"I've waited for you a long time," he murmured before beginning to kiss my throat. I couldn't move my hands or feet, so I had to sit still. His touch made me feel unclean. Then suddenly he bit my throat. Gasping in pain, my neck arched. "That's it," Mair whispered, his hot breath on my throat. This didn't feel how I thought it would feel. My friends told me they were on fire when they slept with a guy. Then again, they were able to use their own free-will. They weren't forced to respond to a guy who had them chained to a table.
"Please," I asked softly, hot tears trickling down my face. He merely continued, straddling my hips. Helpless, I laid there as he began to unbutton my shirt. After loosening each button, he kissed the flesh he uncovered.
"Oh god," he whispered, as he finally pulled the shirt apart. He just looked at me, lust overtaking his face. "What's wrong, love?" He finally noticed my tears. Pressing his body against mine, he brought his face over mine. I knew I couldn't tell him exactly what was wrong, so I quickly thought.
"I've . . ." I broke off, my face burning red. His hands gently stroked the tears away.
"Please," I whimpered. Understanding began to dawn on him.
"You're untouched." Mair said. Flushing red, my face and throat felt red-hot, I nodded. "When you blush, most of your body does too," he trailed a cool finger down my face, my throat, my chest, to stop at my belly button. "Don't worry. I'll be gentle with you." Gulping, I looked at him wildly."
"Please, don't!" I barely mouth, my throat feeling like it was on fire. Sucking on my neck again, he made me gasp at the foreign feeling.
"I'll tell you something." He said, eyes aglow. "If by the time I'm done 'torturing' you, you still want me to stop – I will." Swallowing hard, I nodded. He waited for me to say it out loud.
"Alright," I said softly. Grinning wildly, he went back to kissing my body. He came to my bra. Frustrated he got off my lap and went to a side table. Gathering a knife, he sat astride my body again. Becoming frightened, I pressed against the table.
"Love, I'm not going to hurt you," he whispered.
"But the knife," I breathed. Kissing my lips again, he sought to reassure me. Knowing the sick, twisted mind of a serial killer, I had no choice but to continue this sick game. His touch made my skin crawl, his taste was making my stomach ill and his voice got on my nerves. He brought the knife between my breasts and he sliced the garment. Then he did the same with the straps. Dropping the knife, just out of my reach, he began to give attention to my breasts.
"Please," I whispered, hoping he would stop. However, he took this as a sign to continue. Grabbing the knife again, he moved lower down my body. His hands were everywhere.
Gaining my attention by unbuttoning my pants, I began to panic. He kissed my stomach. Unzipping them he slowly peeled them off my legs. Then taking the knife he sliced up the sides of the pants.
"Mair, stop!" I told him, firmly, using his first name finally. Gently he relieved me of my pants and brought his face to mine again.
"Don't forget your promise, darling," His dark black eyes were looking at my own green ones. "I'm not done with you just yet."
"No more. Please, love," I asked pleading. His eyes softened. Running a gentle hand over my face, he sighed.
"Sorry, beautiful." He did look sorry. "But not until after I'm done with you," he roughly kissed me, all teeth and tongue. Sliding down, he pressed kisses all over my body. Gasping as he hit one particular spot, my head hit the table, hard. He loved this. I just prayed for it to end. Finally, he was done.
"What do you say?" He kissed me, pulling my hair nearly out.
"Mair," I could barely think right now. I was in so much pain. He grinned and stripped, then he touched me.
"DON'T TOUCH ME!" I screamed, my eyes flashing open. His hands were the only thing that invaded my thoughts.