Page 12 of Shattered Souls

“Please. I just want to go home.” She pleads with Seek while she hugs her knees to her chest.

“I told you Hyde would find you.” He mocks her.

From this angle, she can’t see me, but I can see her. The way her breathing picks up as she looks at unmasked Seek makes something deep within my chest stir.

Her black hair is matted with a few leaves sticking out from her little fall as she tried to escape me. Her pink lips have a bloodied hand print—my handprint—left across them. Where fear should be shining in those green eyes of hers, there’s something else.

“I saw nothing.” she continues, ignoring Seek’s words. “Please, just let me go.” She stares at a spot on the floor.

“Stand up and strip.” Her entire body stiffens. His voice darkens with the lack of movement. “Now, or else I’ll do it for you.”

On shaking limbs, she slowly pushes off the ground. Her hands vibrate as she lifts her shirt over her head and lets it fall to the floor. My eyes are shamelessly stuck on the swell of her breasts and the peaks of her nipples as they press against their restraints.

When her hands don’t move to finish the job, Seek takes a single step forward. She whimpers, but slowly, so painfully slowly, slides her jeans down her long legs.

Her eyes shine with a look I know all too well, but I can’t deny the feeling that blooms in my stomach at the sight of her almost bare. Blood rushes to my cock and I have to shift the weight on my feet to distract myself from the unwelcome feeling.

“Take off the rest.” He orders, his arms crossed over his chest.

Her eyes finally look up to him. The corners of her eyes leak with the fear that is no doubt bubbling in her chest. “Please, no.”

“You’re not in a position to negotiate, little scarecrow.” I almost step forward and rip him out of the room, but stop short when she reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra with a wince.

She sobs silently, but still hooks her thumbs into the band of her underwear and lets them fall to the floor. Seek reaches down and collects her muddy, bloody clothes. He plucks her underwear from the pile and her eyes widen when he brings them to his face and inhales deeply.

A growl comes from deep within his chest.

My eyes greedily strain to see his reaction or the small bundle of fabric.

“Did you enjoy being chased, little scarecrow?” She shrinks in on herself, her hand covering her hardened nipples while the other tries to shield his view from her bare pussy.

He huffs out a laugh and turns to leave her room. She doesn’t react as the door slams shut this time. Instead, I watch through the small window as she sits down on the edge of the small bed, her head hung low in humiliation. I smile inward knowing I can see her, but she can’t see me.

“Give it to me.” I sign as soon as Seek looks my way.

“What?” He prods with raised brows.

“Give me her clothes.” He flashes me a sick smile but hands the pile of clothes my way. I tuck the warm pile into my body, my head swimming with horrible thoughts.

“What’s your plan?” He walks into the kitchen and starts pulling out stuff to make dinner. I have to walk in front of him to answer him.

“I want to keep her.” I reply.

“Keep her?”

“Yes,” I toss everything but her panties into the washer. I shove the damn piece of fabric into my pocket. “I want her to stay here. I want her to be my toy.” I slowly sign the next bit. “She can be our toy.”

His shoulders tense, and for a minute he doesn’t say anything. He lays a pan on the stove and starts cooking some chicken.

“She’s never going to stay here willingly.” I grit my teeth.

I sign my reply to him, but he doesn’t look my way.

I try again, this time moving into his view, but he turns towards the sink. Anger boils in my chest as I try and fail again to make him see my answer.

I swipe my hand across the island and let the plates that he lined up for us go crashing to the floor. My chest rises and falls heavily as the anger spills out with each exhale. He’s punishing me. Punishing me for doing something that could give both of us joy.

I leave the kitchen and head towards my room—having to force my feet forward when I pass the door that holds my little scarecrow. The door closes behind me and I yank at the roots of my hair.