His Slave

8. This is Just a Bad Dream

I could hide from him, or even try to run away, but I'm so stricken with fear that I'm frozen in place. The faint sound of the doorbell makes my heart start to pound faster. I swallow again, fighting back my urge to vomit.

Seconds tick by. Then minutes. I hear the ominous sound shoes clicking against hardwood, and as they get closer, my heart pounds faster and faster. My hands are trembling, my mind is spinning. My stomach turns. I swallow. He can't be too far now. I take a shaky breath, running my hands through my messy hair. The handle clicks. My heart starts to pound faster. This has to be a bad dream. This can't be happening.

I watch in terror as the door creaks open, and in steps Mr. swagtastic bad boy himself, outfitted in designer jeans, and a button down shirt that's half open, revealing his defined chest. His usual black leather jacket is casually draped over his shoulders and he's wearing a pair of oxfords that are so shiny I can see my reflection in them. He peels a pair of aviator sunglasses off his face, staring down at me, just a bit of a smirk on his lips. I tremble as he steps closer.

"Hello, Erin," he greets calmly, as if trying not to upset me. I keep my mouth shut as I stare back up at him, wondering how easy it would be for him to catch me if I darted around him.

"Aren't you going to greet me," he asks playfully. I shake my head, calculating the distance from where I am to the front door. If I could kick him I might have a chance. But I'm sure Mr. Dalton is expecting that from me, so he's probably watching.

"No? That's not very respectful," he chides, smirking.

"Good," I reply, sounding like a five year old. James just shakes his head.

"I told you I would report you, and still you chose to treat me poorly," he replies casually, taking another step towards me.

"I didn't think you'd actually do it," I half whisper in response. He laughs.

"I am a man of my word, Erin. Trust that when I say I'm going to do something, it will happen." The amount of control in his voice sends shivers down my spine.

"Get up," James says, the edge in his voice enough to make me do as I'm told. He strides towards me slowly, sensually. As if I were a prize for him to claim. I take the chance, darting for the door but he's got his arms around my waist before I make it three feet. Dammit.

James pulls me close to him, tsking in my ear.

"That's naughty," he tells me, staring into my eyes. "Try that again and you'll regret it," he spits at me, giving me a pointed look as he lets me go.

"Leave me alone!" I spit, backing a way from him the second I'm out of his grasp. James lets out an amused laugh.

"You're my slave now, Erin. I own you. You can try to get away from me all you want but it's not going to happen," he replies, his tone dripping with delight. Because he knows he's right. I fight the urge to vomit yet again.

"Why?" I ask as my tears threaten to make another appearance. "Why did you have to do this to me?" James snorts, taking a predatory step towards me.

"Because I like you, Erin. How many times do I have to tell you that? Or if that's not a good enough answer, perhaps its because someone needs to teach you a lesson," he continues, his words dark and threatening as he stalks towards me. I back away as terror rushes through me. This cannot be happening. I won't accept this. My back hits the counter and I curse while James effortlessly closes the gap between us with one stride, staring down at me, his face ridden with anger.

"Because nobody- least of all some mouthy little slave- disrespects me and gets away with it." His words are pure ice, freezing me in place. I'm so scared, I'm shaking. I can't think. I can't speak. I can't move.

"Maybe if you had listened to me and apologized, I might have left the matter alone. But you were persistent on humiliating me," he continues, brushing his fingers along my arm, sending prickles of heat dancing across my skin. I shudder.

"Please don't do this," I beg, shutting my eyes as a few tears leak out. James lets out a heavy sigh.

"Fighting will only making it worse," he tells me. I scoff but say nothing in response.

"Its time for us to leave," he adds, that gentleness returning to his words as he holds his hand out for me to take. I stare at his long, slender fingers for a long time, knowing that taking his hand is the first step to giving in. It'd be accepting what's happening. What he's done. I can't run if he's got his fingers around mine.

"Please don't make me do this," I beg him. James shakes his head.

"By law you have to," he replies sternly. "And if you don't I'll have Mr. Brewer apprehend you. And you won't like that. So what's it going to be?" He asks. I shudder. Its the last thing I want to do- place my fingers in his and let him lead me off to his magical enchanted dungeon where he'll hold me prisoner for the rest of my life. But I know what employees from the court of debts are capable of. So, mustering as much irritation as I can into one gesture, I finally, grudgingly place my fingers in his. James smiles.

"That's a good girl," he coaxes, sending shivers running along every part of me as he closes his fingers around mine. His touch is freezing cold and burning hot all at once. And strong. I don't think I could pull my fingers from his if I had a pair of pliers to do it. James says nothing as he leads me out of the kitchen, toward the front exit. I don't see any of the other debtors, or Mr. and Mrs. Dalton anywhere.

Everything inside of me is screaming. To try and escape. To kick him or bite him- to at least do something. But its like my world has turned to black and white. Like this isn't real. And I can't do anything. Because in my mind this isn't real. It's all just a bad dream. I'll wake up soon and have breakfast with Keary and Toby and Adelaide and Thomas. And everything will be fine.

This is just a bad dream.

Everything is going to be fine. 

Even though I know deep down inside it isn't.