Page 22 of Shattered Souls

I open the plastic and peek inside.

The first thing I pull out is a pair of handcuffs with pink fuzz. I give him a questioning look and he laughs.

“It wasn’t exactly easy to find handcuffs on such short notice without them being from a sex store.” With raised brows, I pull out the next thing.

A long strip of pink leather with black metal rings on either end. I look back in the bag, a small heart shaped lock with two keys sits rested at the bottom.

“A collar.” He answers my question before I can even ask.

Blood rushes to my cock again.

“That lock in your hand—it has a tracker built into it.” I turn the heart in my hand.

“So you could get a collar, and a lock with a tracker in it, but not regular handcuffs?” He stands up and shoots me a strange look.

“That’s beside the point.”

“So, what? She’s going to be on a leash and handcuffed wherever she goes?” I jangle the cuff in front of my face.

“Pretty much. You want her to stay, and she’s not exactly keen on the idea—so we force her.”

“She’s gonna come around.” I sign frustratedly.

I don’t want to force her to stay here. I want her to be here because it’s what she chooses to do. When there isn’t a grumpier version of myself complaining about my newest obsession, I spend my time thinking of how exactly we can convince her she’s safe with us.

“How so?”

“We do what we did tonight.” It’s obvious.

“Enlighten me.”

“We let her try and escape until Halloween. If at any point she makes it past the exit, she gets to leave. We keep it hard for her in the first few weekends, but after that—she won’t want to leave.” The plan is so delicious and twisted that I know my equal will love it just as much as me.

“And the other four days a week? You can’t just let her rot in there if you want her alive and talking. She’s looking at nothing but four bare concrete walls.” He’s not wrong.

The room’s a sensory deprivation pod, and tonight’s mental deterioration was a sign of how quickly it’s affecting her. Then again, she stabbed me with a fork and bit Seek’s finger—thinking we were the same person!

“I’ll quit. Watch her full time.”

“So then I’m solely responsible for our money?” I look around the room.

We don’t need much. It’s not like my money even does much. I only work three days a week, and the money isn’t anything to write home about. There’s also a coworker that I’ve almost put on one of the hooks more times than I can count, and it would be nice to never see his face again.

“So you’ll get to fuck her 24/7 while I bust my ass?” His voice isn’t nearly as harsh as his words. Seek has always had a soft spot for me, ever since we were kids and he took it upon himself to protect me. And he’s gone to some extreme measures to protect me.

“That’s not how it is.” We both know that.

“You know what,” He rounds the corner of the island and slings a backpack over his back. “I have to go deal with the body that she just had to fucking look at. I’ll think on your proposition.”

I don’t even try and answer him, knowing that he won’t turn back to see my response.

I slam her door open and watch her scamper off her small bed. For the first time, she doesn’t plead with me or cry the second the door opens.

I curl my finger at her, motioning her to come here.

She takes her time standing and approaching me.

Once close enough to me, I reach out and snag both of her wrists. She gasps and tries to pull back. I pin both of her wrists in one, while the other reaches behind my back and withdraws the cuffs that I cut the fuzz off.