Page 14 of Payback
“Sweet Alison, my ass,” I grumbled, recognizing the flower’s significance—it was a Sweet Alison. Grabbing the white flowers, I ripped them apart, letting their remains scatter onto the floor. Cleaning up was the least of my concerns. I then tore open the package, anticipating skimpy lingerie that barely concealed anything. However, I was wrong about the context. What I retrieved was a red, tantalizing nightgown. Though slightly see-through, it lacked overtly explicit details. Holding it before me, I murmured, “Huh,” as a flicker of recognition stirred.
Then it hit me. Clutching the nightgown, I stormed toward my walk-in closet. My husband and I maintained separate closets, affording me an extensive collection of clothing. I kept it organized, knowing where the section of nightgowns resided. Hastily searching, I realized something—it was mine. The nightgown was mine! Neglected for years, its absence had gone unnoticed. I had worn it on my wedding night—a night where my husband had fucked me in it. Jared couldn’t possibly be aware of that, could he? We weren’t even in the States. We were in the Bahamas. How long had he been observing me? This clearly was a statement, wasn’t it? An intention to overshadow my memories and experiences, and make me fixate solely on him in those moments.
“Cunning bastard.”
It truly felt as if the pupil had evolved into the master. I despised finding myself in the role of the slave. Emitting a groan, I leaned against a dresser, reluctant to put the nightgown on. It was repugnant to even consider donning it. He was tarnishing a cherished memory by compelling me to greet him wearing this. Yet, I understood that failing to comply might lead to the revelation of one of those dark secrets, watching fragments of my life incinerate and receiving a lesson in return. With a frustrated exhale, I began the process of disrobing and ultimately donned the nightgown. Though it needn’t be said, I was fully aware that he intended for me to be bare underneath. That was my state on my wedding night. So, I removed everything prior to slipping it on. The instant I did, I yearned to tear it away.
Approaching a mirror, I beheld my reflection. The nightgown extended to mid-thigh, the sight of my nipples slightly visible. However, it required a sharp light to unveil what truly hid beneath. Thus, it was ideally suited for the evening, illuminated by dim lamps that cast a soft glow. Did this genuinely meet his desires? I pondered, though his message had been unequivocal. He desired this version of Alison, and so he would have her. Descending the stairs once more, I was certain he would attempt to ambush me this time. Taking my stance by the door, I waited, tapping my foot impatiently against the floor. Yet, he failed to materialize. I felt as though I waited forever, sensing the predator drawing nearer, yet he remained concealed from view.
“Show yourself, you bastard,” I snarled, but time passed, and I grew weary of my stationary stance.
Releasing a sigh, I tilted my head back and decided to fetch some water, my gaze falling on the remnants of the Sweet Alison strewn on the floor. I rolled my eyes, stepping around the debris before heading to the fridge. Retrieving a water bottle, I unscrewed the cap and took a sip. The instant the water brushed my lips, a resounding knock echoed, shocking me. It was not due to the forcefulness of the knock, but rather the shock it elicited within me that made my grip loosen. Glancing downward, I noted the water now pooling on the floor, soaking my feet and casting a chill over them. Yet, even the cold water I couldn’t feel because a frigid fear coursed through me as I realized that Satan had arrived to collect what was his.
“Come on, doggy doesn’t scare you. It’s just a puppy,” I muttered to myself, sidestepping the water in an attempt to avoid further dampness and coldness.
Approaching the front door, I discovered what I sought on the other side. The door revealed a more casually attired Jared, clad in a dark leather jacket, a gray t-shirt, and dark jeans. Yet, I could see when clothing held value, and his attire exuded wealth. Undoubtedly, he had upgraded. Adjusting his sunglasses downward upon spotting me, he greeted me with a smile at the sight of me wearing the nightgown. Despite its modesty, I suddenly felt incredibly exposed. Fucking hell, Jared was planning to see me fully naked, right? I found myself momentarily wishing he simply desired endless blowjobs. Perhaps that would be enough to satisfy his needs.
“Going to allow me in?” he asked, his tone laced with taunting.
“Weren’t we leaving right away?”
“You’ll need a few things, won’t you?”
“Clothes?”
“No, you’ll be nude most of the time. I meant a toothbrush,” he chuckled, sidestepping me and rudely pushing me aside as he charged into the house.
“I’m supposed to be naked all the time? Where the hell are we even going?” I demanded, observing him inspect the house as if he hadn’t been there before. I shut the door, crossed my arms, and fixed him with an intense glare. “Quit snooping around. I know where this nightgown came from. My closet!”
“Oh, so you figured that one out,” he laughed.
“You were in my house, you psycho!”
“You should hide the spare key more securely,” he reprimanded me, as if it were my fault that he had entered my home. He was never invited, and a spare key wasn’t an invitation into my personal space.
“You obviously know the gate code too,” I pointed out.
“I do.”
“How?”
He responded with an evil smirk, making it clear he had no intention of unveiling the secrets behind his malicious tactics.
“It’s time to pack,” he informed me. “Your husband won’t be around to warm your bed for a while.”
Brushing past me again, he ascended the stairs. I sighed, trailing after him and entering my bathroom, where he had started poking around.
“A lot of pregnancy tests. Do you even need those?” he taunted, glancing back at me with a smirk.
“They’re old,” I lied.
He lifted one up, scrutinizing the date. I approached him, attempting to grab it from his hand, but he was too swift. He held the package away and then turned to me, his large hand gripping my jaw firmly, applying a bit of pressure.
“Do you believe you have the right to snatch things from my grasp, sweet Alison? I believe we both understand who’s in charge here, don’t we?”
I shot him a glare, refraining from responding despite my strong desire to do so. I knew better than to provoke him. He grinned, releasing me, and I shifted my jaw from side to side, watching as he stowed away the pregnancy test. Moving to another drawer, he found perfumes and looked at a few before selecting one with a rose-shaped cap.
“We’ll take this one. You still enjoy the scent of vanilla,” he remarked.
