Trapped (h.s)

Chapter 26~Trapped(h.s)

Listen to Ghost Town by Adam Lambert

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~Dayana's POV~

Coming upon his door, it was left ajar. Taking that as an invitation, I placed my palm against the mahogany door, pushing it completely open. Taking cautious steps, his figure stood in front of the glass window that adorned his room.

"Close the door." His low masculine voice rasped through the air. Doing as he said I closed the doors, they closed with a faint click. Turning back around to face him. I was startled seeing him standing a few feet away. He's eyes and face wore a blank look. Making it hard for me to comprehend what was going through his mind.

Fucking hell. He was doing it again. He better not fucking make a move, because I won't be responsible for a broken bloody nose.

"Stop. Fucking hell stop looking at me like that. I came for answers not for sex. Now begin." I grunted out moving around his figure, making myself comfortable on one of his leather sofas.

Heavily sighing, he turned around once again facing me but with a hint of mirth playing in his eyes. "What do you want to know?" He rasped out.

Damn, his voice. Squirming in my seat trying to stop the bothering warm feeling that was beginning to arose. Seeing my uneasiness he smirked and clearly liking the way he was making me feel.

"You said your protecting us from other men out there. Who are they, exactly?" I questioned.

It took him a moment, debating whether to let me know. Finally he decided it'd be better to tell me rather than to have me nagging at him every time I'd see him.

"Men, who only look at women with pure lust. Wanting them in their bed without a second thought. Men who want women to get on their knees and beg for mercy. Those kind of men."

That's what I'd thought. No men would want them for anything else, rather to have them a sex toys. Nodding my head, at his answer I decided to go with a question that's been bothering me the most.

"Why?" He looked at me confused. Tilting his head to the side he looked at me with furrowed eyebrows.

"Why what?"

"Why are you helping us? Why not do the same those other men do? Why not have your way with us? Why?" He body structure told me if hit home. It was personal, he wouldn't tell me the truth. He was going to lie to right through his teeth. Wasn't he?

"My mother." Was his answer. Mother? What did his mother have to do wit-Oh. Seeing my wide eyes reaction. He sighed and sat on the edge of his bed. Leaned his elbows against his knees and blew out a heavy sigh, wetting his rosy lips, he pursed them into a tight firm line.

"She was once a slave herself. She experienced it until she she left this world. All because of him. If he would've treated her better like what she truly deserved, things might have been better. But no that asshole had to teach her a "lesson". What fucking prick lays a finger onto a women? Makes her do things she doesn't feel comfortable with. He fucking clearly thought so." He muttered, barely able to hear him.

"You wanna know something?" He spoke fixing his gaze at me. Eyes watering, he looked at me with remorse in his eyes. "He killed her...Why? Because she had fallen in love with someone else. He couldn't see her happy, couldn't bare that she would never love him.

He was stupid, so utterly stupid thinking that after years of being an alcoholic, a womanizer, and an egotistic rapist he'd thought he could have her heart. He'd raped her so much that in the end, she bared a child from him. She bared a basted from him; me.