From Circus to Mafia

The mahogany desk

I'm so so so sorry I haven't updated!!!

He started walking down hallways, pulling me half-heartedly behind him like I was a balloon and he was an ecstatic five-year-old.

On the way I got to see more of the castle he called a home, with its wide stone halls and royal red carpet. There were also big men posted on the giant wooden doors occasionally, guarding something (or someone) and it was really beginning to creep me out. They also seemed to bow to Gunner the slightest bit, which only made Gunner more terrifying through my eyes. However, he didn't seem to notice.

  He dragged me into what looked like his office, with a large mahogany desk and expensive looking paintings. Parker pens sat neatly atop his papers and a big black chair awaited his tukis behind the desk.

Instead of sitting on the chair though, he sat on top of the desk and pulled a handful of band-aids from the first drawer. His muscular arms reached out to grab mine, and he gently took my hand.

He examined the cuts I had and looked at me with sympathy as he began to nurse my hand. It was surprising, how gentle he was. I mean I didn't really know him as a person, but I also didn't know someone could be so kind- to let me fix my hand, or even go so far as to do it for me.

That was the moment.

The moment my guard, which I wasn't aware had lowered, swung back up.

This was not who I was. I may be caged, but I was not fondled and weak. I hated it, and right when he put the first band-aid on I wrenched my hand away. I took a step away from his desk and just stared at him.

And he stared back. His dark eyebrows were raised at me, but he didn't even look that surprised. "I didn't think your compliance would last as long as it did."

His voice took control of the empty room, bouncing off the walls in a powerful manner only he could master. And it was intimidating. Lucky (not really) for me though, I grew up in a circus, with muscle men and terrifying clowns. I was not intimidated easily.

"It's over now. I, um... I want to leave. I can't stay here I have to get back to-"

"To what? The orphanage? Right, you have absolutely nothing holding you away from me, sorry I forgot." His mean sarcasm only made me more unsteady, and to make matters worse, he got off his desk and started inching towards me, like I was prey.

"Let me make one thing clear, because you don't seem to be getting it. You are not leaving this place until I give you permission, darling. You see, I am a very, very powerful man- and very, very powerful men like me, have enemies. And now that you're mine, they're you're enemies too."

I don't really know what happened then, I guess I was just overwhelmed? The last week was one of the most chaotic of my life, and I guess anger just built up. So prompted by his controlling words, I let loose.

"Excuse me, Mr. Smartass, but you don't know me. You don't know shit, actually. Well, except for the kind that comes from your mouth. Following that note, I am most certainly not yours, or the ring masters, or whoever the f*ck says they own me!!  And I will definetly not stay here with the likes of you, you controlling, possessive b*stard."

Throughout my whole speech I had inched closer and closer to where he was standing. When it was over, I was practically underneath his looming, confused, angry face as he listened to my fiery words.    

Apparently, he didn't like what I had to say, because next thing I know, I was up against the mahogany desk, and he was pinning me there. His tough hands gripped my hips, and I couldn't react with what little fighting skills I could've used, because I was far too shocked for action.

"Listen here, I don't know what the hell your droning on about, but you are mine, and sooner or later you're just going to have to accept that; because it ain't changing, sweetheart."

He growled into my ears and I began to shiver in his tight grasp. One reason was due to the fact that he had reached an entirely new level of terrifying, the second being that he was pushing me so hard into the desk the scab that opened earlier, began to bleed. Which led me to panic.

However, that issue wasn't as prominent as the man hunching over me, anger shooting at me from his eyes as he held me hard.

And I didn't do anything, but sit there, and shake.

However, it didn't take him too long to notice, and he quickly let go of me and stepped back. "I- I-" he struggled to let out whatever lame excuse he had, but I wasn't really paying attention. I knew he was sorry. He looked sorry.

However, he wasn't nearly as sorry as he was going to be when he saw the blood stain on the back of my shirt.

I'm in deep shit.