New Title 7 Read Free Page A

money was tight and my parents argued about finances. These facts made me despise him more.
    He shut off the ignition.
    Like a gentleman he circled to my side, flung open the passenger door. I shook my head in disbelief and climbed out.
    He grabbed my hand and led me to the front door. "You know better than to scream or start shit," he muttered squeezing my hand.
    "Yes." Do I have a choice? Did I ever?
    I scanned the property with similar houses on all sides. A closely woven neighborhood (plenty of helpful neighbors) which gave me hope. 
    He wrenched me by the arm, hurled me inside his house. Click went the deadbolt.
    "Welcome home." He challenged with those vivid eyes.
    Brandon led me through a room where ivory sofas faced a fireplace and an Oriental rug draped the white carpet. He yanked me in a hallway. My shoes sank into deep carpet, caused me to stumble.
    Past a door, stairs descended to a shadowy pit. My fingers twined with his as he advanced.
    When he triggered a switch at the bottom, dim lights chased away shadows. A black couch sat in the center of the basement. 
    "The bathroom's in there," he said pointing to a door. Then he motioned to the right. "That's a rec room with a pool table."
    I didn't give a shit about his fancy rec room with its pool table, or his stupid-ass LCD television the size of a cinema screen.
    Revolting how spoiled and rich he was. Disgusting how he thought he'd get by with keeping me as his fucking pet.
    What kind of parents raised this sicko? 
    Snapping me back to reality, he nudged me inside a spacious bedroom with white furniture. A curved headboard accented the queen-sized bed.
    I saw my reflection in a full-length mirror. My face was as white as this room, lips dark red in contrast.
    God. I resembled a fucking vampire.
    "Nice bedroom, isn't it?" he proudly said.
    "I guess."
    "There's another bathroom in here." He tapped in a door beside the bureau. A tiny bathroom emerged.
    He twisted around and smirked my way.
    "This is going to be my room?" I asked already knowing the answer.
    "Yes, beautiful. This is your room. I hope you like it." He pressed a palm to his lips, then blew me a kiss. I looked away.
    "Sit on the bed," he ordered.
    Obediently I sank to the edge of the mattress, snuck a look and found him searching through one of the bureau drawers. He brought out a brownish container and piece of cloth.
    He unscrewed the lid, held the cloth to the rim and tipped the bottle.
    Chills trickled along my spine as he wedged the saturated cloth to my nose and mouth.
    "Breathe." He cupped the back of my head. "It won't hurt you. I'm a doctor, remember?"
    Emotionally, physically drained and sick of being scared, I gave in to his demands.
    Drug-induced blackness followed. A heavy sleep without dreams or nightmares.
    The real nightmare started after I woke. 
    My arms were stretched painfully taught. Duct tape choked my wrists and tethered me to the center bars of the headboard. 
    I was naked.
    He'd done it, succeeded in making me his prisoner. Not one time in my life had I felt as vulnerable. He could do anything he wanted and I couldn't do a damn thing. It scared me to death.
    Gathering courage, I suppressed the panic.
    Surprised to see my legs unbound, I slipped my feet up and down the comforter, relishing its softness, my one comfort in this dimly lit prison.
    Could Brandon be telling the truth about his heart condition? There was no mistaking the scar on his chest—though what did it matter? I was stuck here as a sex slave where I'd remain... unless he died.
    Why should I feel guilty for wanting death to quickly claim him? The sooner he died, the sooner I could leave this hell.
    He hurt me in the same way other couples expressed their love for each other. If this was the only way he could express his feelings, no wonder he was dying of a broken heart.
    "I see you're awake. Good." In a corner, his nude and distinctly masculine silhouette was crouched in shadows.
    My god, he's been watching