Page 14

POSSESSION Page 14

by Jaimie Roberts


“You fucking monster!” I scream, getting up and lunging for him. I know it’s fruitless, but I’m angry. So fucking angry.

Pushing me away, he grabs me by the neck and pushes me outside into the basement where the harness is. I know he’s going to strap me up there, but I don’t want him to. “I tried to reason with you so many times. You’re my fucking whore. Nothing but my whore. And I’m going to treat you like one now.”

I start shaking my head, but he’s restricting me. He pushes me towards the harness, pulls down one side, and then straps in one wrist before restraining the other. Once secure, he pulls me slightly up into the air. I’m suspended, and I can’t move … but I guess that’s how he wants me. What happened to this man? I thought I knew him, but how wrong I was. This is nothing like the Drake I knew. This man—whoever he is—is worse than a monster. He’s the devil himself.

I watch him as he assesses what he’s done. I try to look him in the eye to reason with him, but all I’m met with is black. It’s like a switch has been flipped inside of him, and all elements of the sweet Drake I’ve known are gone without a trace.

Turning, he walks over to a drawer and opens it up. I see when a pair of scissors come out, and I start wriggling. “Drake, you don’t have to do this. I promise I’ll be good. Please … please don’t hurt me.”

Ignoring me, he stalks towards me, and a fear like no other crawls up my spine. I can’t see any remnants of humanity in him at all. It’s almost like Drake isn’t here, and some void has taken over.

Once in front of me, he cuts into the kaftan, and I watch as it sinks to the floor. The next to go are my bra and panties. I’m naked. Completely bare to him. I want nothing more than to scream, shout, and to struggle with all my might, but I know it’s fruitless. All I can do is accept my fate. I know what’s going to happen next, so I gear myself up for it. I should be used to this by now, but I’m not. This is the only life I seem to know with him, but the fact that I know it can be so much better is what’s making this so hard.

I watch as he undresses, and I want so much for it not to affect me in any way, but I can’t help but watch him. I can’t help but want him still. Is this fucked up? How have I gotten to this stage so fast where wanting Drake—in any form—is never far from my mind?

As he strips completely naked, I watch his cock, completely erect and ready, and I can’t help my pussy from throbbing at the thought. My mind doesn’t want this, but my body is betraying me. Somehow, the thought of him taking me like this where I’m completely restricted and at his mercy has the fires dancing in my belly. This isn’t me. Surely not?

I can’t keep my eyes off of him as he strolls towards the drawer again and this time pulls out a tub. He places some jelly on his hand and rubs it up and down his cock. He walks over to me, his eyes still black. I want to look away, but I can’t. I’m transfixed by his beauty. Even the monster in him is beautiful.

“You will learn. And you will submit.” Grabbing my legs, he hoists them around his waist and pulls my hips towards his cock. He places it at my entrance and with one big thrust, he pushes his way to the hilt. I throw my head back, screaming. “That’s right, little whore. Take me. Fucking take all of me.” His words sting me, but the feel of him moving inside of me makes the pleasure build. I don’t want it to come, but it does.

As he pounds inside of me, he calls me names as if I wasn’t the one here. I’m not his Evelyn anymore. I’m just a girl with a hole he can fuck.

The hurt pushes through me as I lean my head back and take every thrust he can give me. I feel the tears slide down my face, but I also know an orgasm’s coming at the same time. How fucked up is that?

Again, like last time, I try to hold it in. I try to fight it from coming, but the more I do, the more violently it reaches towards the surface. As if Drake’s sensing that it’s coming, he pounds faster inside of me. “That’s it. Fucking take it. Take all of me.”

I blow, screaming out his name as he comes with me. He wasn’t gentle. He wasn’t kind. Yet, somehow, he forced his way inside me just like he has always done.

He pulls out, stumbling back, but doesn’t let me go. He doesn’t even look at me. He turns, walks into the bathroom and slams the door.

As I hang there—feeling the drips of his come down my leg and the fading orgasm—the tears come again, and this time, they don’t stop. How is it that I’ve gotten to this? How is it that Drake has gotten to this? This is isn’t him … this isn’t us. A part of me wants to think he feels some sort of remorse for what he’s just done and what he keeps doing. Is that why he walked away?

That and a million other things crawl through my mind. Drake was always a mystery that needed solving. Will I ever solve it? I don’t know. Do I really want to know?

Hopefully, one day, I won’t have to.

Drake kept me down in that basement for four whole days. Eventually, he brought a bed in for me to sleep in, but I was never let out of my restraints. I was either pulled up above the floor, or let down to the ground.

He repeatedly raped me. Sometimes, I came. Sometimes, I didn’t. I got lost in an alternate reality—not knowing whether I was dreaming or living the experience. Unfortunately, my subconscious knew it was the latter. Once the four days were up, I was brought to our bedroom where he kept me under lock and key for an additional three weeks. Every day, he would force me and then tell me not to move for at least ten minutes afterwards. I knew why. He was desperately trying to get me pregnant.

A week ago, we got married, but it wasn’t what I thought it would be. The priest came to the house, and all that were there were a couple of guards as witnesses. No friends or family. Just me and him, the white dress, and a black tux. I said I do because I knew that if I didn’t, I would be forced into that basement again. Drake knew I never wanted to go back down there again and played it for all it was worth. He told me that once he knew I could behave, then we could have a proper, lavish wedding with a honeymoon.

His mood swings were constant. He went from evil rapist to adorable, caring Drake whispering sweet nothings into my ear. He constantly told me he loved me in one breath and then called me his whore in another. It was like he was battling something inside him every day, and it scared the shit out of me. During the night sometimes, I would wake to find him watching me sleep. He would have the saddest expression I have ever seen sprawled across his face. In those times, I would go to him … give him the comfort he needed. He would wrap me up in his arms, kiss my head, and tell me that he loved me—that I was his sweet Evelyn, and he would never let anything happen to me. Strange considering he was the one to fear. Not the outside world. Him.

I had even started to submit to him. I battled inside my head all of the time. I’m still stubborn, but the fact that I knew he would keep pushing and pushing until I relented made me compliant. Compliancy was better than the alternative I was sometimes subjected to.

“What is the fucker up to?”

Drake is on the phone, and he’s madder than ever. Someone’s royally pissed him off.

“I don’t care that he’s gone silent. The mere fact that he’s still close by makes me think he’s up to something. In fact, I know he’s up to something. Find out what the fuck it is before I break this fucked up treaty we have and go down and shoot them all to kingdom come.” With a press of the button, he ends the call and throws the phone onto the bed. “Fuck!” he screams, running his hands through his hair. A part of me wants to ask what’s wrong, but another, bigger part tells me to hold back. If I make a sound, he might aim his anger at me.

With a huff, he storms out, slamming the door behind him. I’m so engrossed in looking at the door and wondering what on earth has gotten into him that I fail to realise he’s left his phone on the bed.

Hurrying, I run towards the bed and pick the phone up. I light the screen up, but it asks me for a pin number. Fuck! This is all I need.

I sit for a while, wondering what I can do. I have three chances to put this pin i
n correctly, and if I get two wrong and decide to go for the third and get that wrong too, Drake will know. If I use the phone—which I will—Drake will know. Whatever options, I’m fucked. And I know I’m fucked.

But, I miss my friend, Mandy. I haven’t spoken to her in weeks, and just two minutes of conversation with her would be worth any punishment Drake may want to unleash on me later.

With that thought in my mind, I light the phone up again and have a think on what the pin could be. I put Drake’s day and month of birth, but it comes up wrong, so I put my day and month in. That’s wrong too. Shit. What am I going to do now?

I sit for a while, thinking, but the only alternative pin I can think of is my month and year of birth.

With shaky hands, I type out zero-six, ninety-eight and hover for a moment over the Okay button. With my eyes closed, I press Okay and open one eye to see if it’s worked or not. To my surprise, it’s correct.

With my heart beating frantically, I quickly dial Mandy’s number. Luckily, I know it by heart. Otherwise, I would have had to search on Facebook, and I really don’t want to have to do that on Drake’s phone.

Knowing that there’s no going back now, I press Okay to call and wait as her phone starts ringing.

“Hello,” she tentatively answers. I know she’s wondering who this is, but I’m glad Mandy’s predictably curious.

“Mandy, it’s Evelyn.”

I hear her intake of breath before she speaks. “Evelyn, how are you? Drake told me you were ill. Are you okay now? Fuck, Evelyn, I’ve been worried sick about you.”

Ill? So, this is the lie Drake has been spilling to my friend as to the reason why I haven’t called.

“Mandy, I’m fine. I haven’t been ill—”

“Then why did Drake tell me you were?”

I love Mandy, but she’s so frustrating at times. “Don’t you get it by now? You know who Drake is, don’t you? You yourself pointed out that he kills people. Whatever Drake wants, Drake gets, and I am and have always been at the top of his list. I don’t want this, and Drake knows that, so he’s kept me prisoner here. That’s why I haven’t called you.”

“But you’re calling me now.”

I sigh. “Yes. Because Drake had a phone call that he didn’t like, threw the phone on the bed with a huff, and stormed out of our room. If he knew I was calling you now, he would flip.”

“Jesus, Evelyn.”

“Exactly.” I close my eyes, hoping that, now, I’ve finally gotten through to her.

“I … I don’t understand it. He loves you, and you were always so infatuated by him—”

“But he forces it. Don’t you understand?” I ask, cutting her off. “He forces me to want him, forces me to be with him, forces me to have sex with him, forces me to marry him, and now’s he’s forcing me to have his baby.”

“Fuck.” She goes deathly silent for a while before speaking. “Can you meet me?”

“I can’t. I’m stuck here with armed guards. I’ve wanted to see you for ages, but Drake said I couldn’t. Not until I could be trusted not to run.”

“Oh my God.”

I can tell she’s shocked and unable to quite fathom what’s happening. Normally, Mandy’s a very vocal girl, but I’m not getting anything from her.

“When do you think I can see you then?” she asks.

I sigh, wondering whether I can trust Mandy enough to tell her. In the end, I know she’s the only one I can.

Looking towards the door, I run into the bathroom and start putting on the shower and turning the sink taps on to muffle any noise. I know Drake can see me, but there’s no telling whether he can also hear everything that’s going on.

“What’s that noise?” she asks.

“I’ve had to put the shower on,” I whisper. “The bedroom might be bugged, and I don’t want him to hear me.”

“Oh,” she whispers back. I can’t understand why she’s whispering.

“Listen, I don’t know when I’ll get to see you again, but I’m planning on leaving. I’ve got some help from the inside. He’s promised me he would.”

“Who?”

“His name’s Joe. But please, Mandy. Don’t say anything to anybody about this.”

“Of course not.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise. Just be careful.”

I smile at Mandy’s concern. “I will.” I go to work, switching everything off before walking out to the bedroom. I sit down with my smile still plastered and ask her a question.

“So, tell me, what have you been up to? What have I missed these past few weeks?”

“Well, do you remember Reese?”

I frown, but then I remember him from the cinema. “Oh, yes, from that day when we all went out together. I haven’t seen him around here.”

“I think that’s because he’s doing some work for Drake elsewhere. I often asked him about you, but he says he has nothing to do with the house anymore.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Anyway,” I smile at the excitement in her voice, “he and I have gone out a few times, and a couple of weeks back, we had sex.” She starts giggling.

“Really? What was it like?”

“Oh, my God, he was something else. And the things he can do with his tongue.”

I start laughing. “Okay. I think that’s too much information.”

She giggles again. “Sorry. He just has a body to die for. I can’t seem to get enough of him now that I’ve had a taste. The only problem is that he’s a little possessive of me.”

I let out a sarcastic laugh. “Oh, I would know all about that.”

“He thinks every man is looking at me. It’s like being with a caveman.”

“I already have my caveman.” I look at the wedding ring on my finger. “In fact, I’m now married to the caveman.”

She gasps. “When did that happen?”

“A week ago. He didn’t invite anyone. He just ordered the priest round to marry us and made two of his guards be witnesses. No church, no beautiful dress, no fancy reception with champagne. Just a very quick marriage followed by quick sex.” I remember Drake not wanting to wait any longer to fuck me after we got married. It was almost as if we weren’t properly married until he pulled me into the dining room after and pulled my dress up and my knickers down before fucking me over the table. It was over with quickly, but I knew from Drake’s excitement that he wouldn’t last long. It was almost as if the whole marriage session was his foreplay, and I was his reward after.

“Oh, Evelyn, I just don’t understand. I thought it was going to be a big lavish wedding with lots of guests.”

“It was supposed to be, but because I wouldn’t behave, he decided to force it on me, knowing I had no other choice.”

“Why is he doing this?”

I shrug my shoulders. “I really don’t know. I really wish I did know. Can you be that obsessed with someone that you’re willing to go to such great lengths to have them at all costs?”

She sighs. “I suppose so, but this does seem a bit extreme.”

I huff. “Tell me about it.” I start feeling depressed again, but I don’t want this call to end on a low note, so I decide to change the subject. “Anyway, enough about me. Tell me more about Reese.”

I cross my legs on the bed and listen intently as Mandy tells me of her adventures with Reese and how she’s enrolled in college to study Biology in September. A pang comes in my gut when she tells me this, but I push it away, opting to be happy for my friend. On the outside, the world is still revolving and other lives exist. Unfortunately, it’s just not happening with me in it for now.

As we close on our conversation, I cling on to the hope that one day I will have the life Mandy has, and even though I will most probably never see Mandy again, I will cherish what we had together and cling to the fact that one day … just maybe … I may live a normal life.

Present Day

I fret for the rest of the day, knowing that Drake will be back soon
and will punish me for calling Mandy. I hate him for taking my friends away from me, and I also hate him for taking my freedom. But the part I hate the most about him is that he’s here. He’s always been here. He’s the only person who has ever bothered to be here. True, I’m never safe with him, but he’s made sure that he’s been such a huge part of my life and had such an impact that I guess I’ve become … reliant?

I spend most of my time in my room trying to figure out a way to get out of my current situation. I need to get out, and I don’t want to have to rely on Joe, the arsehole, to help me escape. I form plans and strategies in my head until I come up with something so brilliant that I curse myself for not thinking of it earlier.

Thinking it’s now or never, I walk to the bedroom door, and I’m surprised and delighted that Drake left it open today. I think that in his haste to get going, he must have forgotten to lock me in. I walk towards the stairs, clutching my stomach and groaning in pain. No one is around, but I suspect there are cameras. I start taking to the stairs one slow step at a time. I’m groaning louder now, and in the corner of my eye, I see someone nearing the stairs. I take that opportunity to fall slightly, screaming out as I go. I feel a set of arms around me and look to find it’s Kane.

“What’s the matter?” he asks, his deep brown eyes full of concern.

“I don’t know.” I moan again, gripping my stomach. “Something’s not right. I feel like my stomach’s going to explode.” Okay, that was a bit melodramatic, but I have to be in order to incite some panic into the situation.

Pretty soon, George and a couple of other guards are by my side. “What’s wrong?” George asks.

I start moaning again. “Please, you have to help me.”

“It’s her stomach. I think she needs to go to the hospital.” Kane replies.

Bingo!

George looks uncertain, but I moan again, and he knows he has no other choice. “Okay, get Joe to bring the car round, and I’ll call Drake to let him know. Take her to St Thomas’.”