Lyra Parish - Weak Without Him

The next morning, I woke to the sound of the door closing. My bastard placed a set of black lingerie, high heels, and thigh-highs on the table with the tray of mystery mush. The same routine continued. Wake, eat bland food, and dress in the clothes he brought. Then I'd be bound and led to the cage as naked women danced on stage. I stared at him with emptiness in my eyes.

Everything that I thought I knew was wrong. Everything.

"Take a shower before you dress," he said before he left the room. Just the same as always, I wasn't allowed a moment to respond. That was the most he had ever directly spoken to me. His voice was deep, but not demanding, and I knew he shouldn't be crossed. A dangerous look camped in his eyes, and I didn't want to find out what he was capable of. I did as I was told.

When I turned on the faucet, sludge dripped from it, until it finally ran clear. After I rinsed my body with the soap that dried my skin, I stood with a towel wrapped around me and looked at the little pile of fabric while contemplating my next move.

I wanted to rebel.

I resisted dressing once, and my bastard stripped me of my clothes and left me naked for a day. I learned my lesson and knew then that I had no choice. It was obey orders or be left with nothing. I would dress, but did so grudgingly.

The fit was familiar, and I knew they had come from my favorite shop in the heart of Vegas. As much as I loved the lingerie, I couldn't help but resent wearing it. The pieces were slowly starting to fit together. I knew for a fact that I was no longer in Europe. The motherfuckers had flown me back to the good ol’ U.S. of A. Did Finnley know that I wasn't in London? Was he still searching abroad, or had he given up on me? Did he know his brother had planned this? Luke brought me to Paris, built up a level of confidence with me, then had his people capture me at that moment when I would go to Finnley. The planning it must have taken to accomplish this with one ultimate goal in mind: fuck me without his brother getting in the way.

But all the jagged pieces didn't completely fit together. Which part did I miss? Luke could have fucked me in Paris that night when we drank too much, but he didn't. Was it a part of his plan because he knew the end result of it all?

I hated him.

I fucking despised him with every bone in my body.

Luke told me to go to Finn, to be with him, secretly knowing that I wouldn't make it back to the car, that I would never see his brother again. I was thinking too much, calculating every move it must have taken, and I needed to stop.

For once, I hated the pretty panties and bra that seemed as if they were made for whoever wore them. I put on the thigh-highs but left the heels on the table until I was forced to wear them. I would be forced, no doubt about it in my mind.

The time ticked on, and I closed my eyes hoping it was all a horrible nightmare, but I knew better. What I lived was my new reality.

When the door opened, I wished I wouldn't have looked.

"Stand up," Luke demanded.

I rolled my eyes at him, which only caused him to storm toward me and jerk me by my arm.

"When I tell you to do something, you fucking do it," he said. The minions entered. Luke snarled and demanded them with a snap. Over his shoulder, he said, "Bring me the shoes." Cab driver grabbed the heels and shoved them at me. Luke watched me as I dropped them on the floor and took my sweet time slipping them on. I stood eye level to him with the heels on, but refused to look into his eyes. I couldn't stand them anymore.

"Get on your knees."

I looked at him as if he was joking, but his stature didn't waver.

"Now."

I hesitated, and he ran his fingers through my hair, grabbed a fistful, and forced my ear close to his mouth. His warm breath hit my skin as he whispered, "Don't make me fucking hurt you." His grasp tightened on my hair, and I dropped down. My knees hit the hard concrete, and I winced.

"Hands behind your back."

I sucked in a deep breath and did as he said. He would have to force me every step of the way. Luke stepped back and spoke with his back toward me.

"Each time I enter this room, I want you down on your fucking knees."

He looked at the minions and demanded them out. Then he coolly pulled a chair up and sat in front of me, watching me, waiting for me to falter. But I wouldn't.

I stared at a spot in the middle of the floor as he comfortably sat above me. My knees throbbed with pain, but I didn't move. Mind over matter.

"Do you have any fucking idea how much you mean to me?"

I continued to look at the spot.

"The things I would do for you?"

I looked into his eyes, and something flickered behind them.

Hurt? Anger? Hate? Could it be hate?

"Of course you don't. You never gave a shit about me or my feelings and why would you? You were nothing more than a whore my brother commissioned. Now you're at my mercy. You're at the will of me, your master. The one who now owns you."

Adrenaline pumped through my veins, and my heart sped. I stared until my vision blurred. I had been on the floor for over an hour. As if I didn't have enough of his mind fuck, Luke dropped down to his knees and forced me to look into his eyes.

"See me," he said, and I spit in his face. The heels dug into the crease of my ass. I looked at him, chest rising and falling with every breath, as he wiped away my saliva.

"Is this what you want, Luke? You want me to see you for the fucking monster you are. I thought you were someone you weren't. I thought you cared about me. You're pathetic and jealous of your own brother. You disgust me."

He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, really slow, so controlled it scared me. Then he swiftly stood and jerked me up by the hair. I fought back screams.

With all of his strength, Luke forced me onto the bed and pinned my arms above my head. I couldn't fight him. I wouldn't. It was best to just take it. As much as I wanted to fight against him, it wouldn't get me anywhere.

Luke's face was inches above mine as he hovered over my body. His heartbeat pulsed in his neck. He forcefully restrained my wrists with one hand, while the other slid up the side of my body, touching my soft skin. His touch held so much vengeance, lust, desire.

"Do you want to die? Then learn to fucking listen to me, for once, or you'll never see my brother again, not even in your dreams," he said between gritted teeth.

"Are you threatening me?"

"It's a fucking promise, Miss Downs." And that's when Luke's hand wrapped around my throat.

Then the laughter came. My laughter.

At that moment, I knew Luke had broken me. It wasn't the tone in his voice or words, or the tight grasp he had around my throat, but the seriousness in his face and eyes that told me he was telling the truth. At that moment, I saw him for what and who he truly was, and I hated him for it.

Luketon Brand, Finnley's little brother, was out of control. A little piece of me, deep inside, told me I lay in the room where I would die by the hands of the man who I once trusted with my life.

The earliest flight left in the morning. Luke had been back in Vegas for forty-eight hours and was impossible to get in touch with. I needed to tell him that Abbot found the driver and that Jennifer was in the States somewhere, but each time his phone went to voicemail when I called. Damn it! Not the best time to be unavailable.

I packed my things and boarded the plane, then put on my Ray-Bans with the hope that no one would recognize me. No one did. When I landed in Vegas, Charlie waited for me and brought me to the office.

While we were on the elevator, my secretary turned and gave me a look. "Didn't know you were coming in today."

I crossed my arms and glared at her. I did look batshit crazy at the moment in a t-shirt and tattered blue jeans. I needed a shave and shower after that flight, but I also had a business to make sure was running properly.