Wicked Games [Mature 18 +] **COMPLETE**

Chapter Fourteen

My brain throbbed like it was trying in intervals to squeeze itself out of my eyesockets. I didn't even have time to take in my surroundings as I sat up in the soft bed holding my aching temples. The last like I remembered was getting on the train and then...

Lucien.

Covering my face I hid from the reality I didn't want to be faced with. If he did take me it confirmed the reason why I needed to get away. However, I wasn't tied up and I still wore my clothes from that morning. My sandals were off, leaving my feet bare. The bed spread I was on wasn't the one from the hotel, the room at the manor, attic or the Chateau. Was I somewhere new? Swallowing I put on the figurative big girl panties and dropped my hands to take in my surroundings. My head still pounded and the light seemed to make it worse, but I could get the gist of where I was. The walls were all rough old beige stone, but the furnishings were all very modern. Dark wood covered the floor but there was a red carpet running between two glass walls to what I could assume from the shower I glimpsed was the bathroom. Privacy didn't exist here. It wasn't a gilded cage; it was a glass one.

Seated in a heavy wooden chair in the corner watching me was Lucien. He looked a little wild with his dark locks tousled, like a young king seated on his throne. I hated myself for appreciating his beauty. Why couldn't he transform so his outsides matched his insides? No he was a beautiful monster and I was his prisoner.

Pressing my back to the headboard I watched him the same as he did me. Neither of us said anything for a very long time. Whatever he gave me made it hard to find words through the buzz of the lights and the pain in my head. Hours ago he was my lover, and now my kidnapper. Was I ever going to go free? I looked at the bed for a moment and it slowly sunk in what that metal lattice work with it's tiny fleur de lis was for—restraints. Above me, clipped up and hidden partially in the dark blue fabric of the canopy were cuffs. Tears blurred my vision and I swallowed shutting my eyes tight and pressed my face to the side, wincing against the pain in my head.

The bed shifted and I jumped, opening my eyes discovering the lights dimmed and Lucien leaning against the opposite post. A frown turned his lips as his intense gaze settled on me.

"Why the fuck am I here, Lucien?" I sneered feeling more myself in the dark. It was easier to find the courage to be angry when I didn't have to contend with the sensation of ice picks rooting around behind my eyes.

"I don't know, ma petite. Why did you lie to me?" He wet his lips and picked at his pant leg. "Willa can't have children. She got chicken pox at nineteen and is sterile." His voice was so soft and so calm, his accent thicker than normal.

Confronted with the lie my eyes went right to the blue velvet bed spread, and the little embroidered fleur de lis. It was so very patriotically French.

"Does it matter? It don't think you would have let me leave if I told you."

"Non, but better arrangements could have been made."

"Arrangements for what? To keep me in a better fucking prison?"

He inhaled sharply through his nose and started bouncing his knee. Twitching his head to the side he took out his phone and looked down at the screen. "Your new girl is so pretty and screams so well she'll be a treat for Paulo. He likes to make bitches really scream before he finishes with them. Don't worry, we'll send you her best parts in a box when we're done. This isn't a threat you dumb French fuck, this is fact. The box with the pink bow you'll get next week will have in it her nice pert tits and her head." He held the phone out to me. The text was in French but below it was my name, my social security number, my parents names and their address not to mention a picture of me at The Society on my knees sucking off some dom.

"Let me go. I'm not a criminal, I can go to the authorities. Interpol, the FBI they'll help me. Please, Lucien."

"Of course because it's not like the mafia has ever killed someone in custody before, no?" He rolled his eyes and stood. "If you're alive I don't care if you fucking hate me." He put his phone away and tugged at the lapels of his blazer, his eyes sweeping the room, lingering on the ceiling. "It's not forever."

"What just until I let you actually fucking rape me?" I growled and he shook his head.

"The threat should pass in a month."

I gapped at him. "A month? What the fuck!"

"Should be long enough for me to deal with this Paulo and whoever they send as retribution," he explained as if it were nothing. None of it seemed to phase him, but then I thought to the night before and how strange he was acting in the kitchen. Was this what was bothering him? Still tied to that moment of his vulnerability was the image of him standing over the corpse with blood on his face and hatchet in hand.

"You mean murder and hack up right? More fertilizer for the tree, huh?"

He rolled his shoulders and looked me dead in the eye. "Oui, exactement," he snarled darkly. Turning from me he headed for the door and I darted after him, he entered a code I didn't see, and the door beeped and opened. Freedom! I tried to dart around him, but he caught me, threw me back into the room and slammed the door.

"Let me out!" I screamed so loud I hurt my ears as I banged on the door with my fists.