The Billion Dollar Debt

8

© 2017 NightMareLux. All Rights Reserved.

I think it's strange.

The way that Vincent looks at me is unnerving. Like he's drinking me in but the thoughts he's pouring me into are in a different part of his mind- a deeper and darker, more primal place.

Strange, huh.

"When do I get these off?" I insisted, rattling them for emphasis. 

It was my fifth time asking that week.

His eyes hardened as he cupped his stubbly jaw. "The date is undetermined, like I have already answered. The more you ask, the longer the date for the chains to be on."

I bit my lip, knowing that it was quite the opposite. Every time I brought up the chains, I could see a piece of him chip away. In some weird sick way, he was regretting putting me in chains. As if it was hurting him to see me like this.  Only yesterday, when he returned from heaven knows where in the middle of the night, he entered my room and sat down next to me quietly. I peeked through slit eyes to see the light from the door reflecting on the key ring that unlocked all of my cuffs. But instead of unlocking them like I hope, he shoved them back into his pocket as he stood and left my room.

It made me angry, but I wasn't sure what I could do about his indecisiveness other than guilt trip him into freeing me. 

"Please, my wrists and ankles are getting sore from the friction. I can't sleep properly." I begged, trying my best to make myself sound desperate for freedom. It wasn't very hard, considering that the cuffs were an inconvenience.

He raised a perfect brow. "I heard you snoring the other night. I think you might be sleeping a little too well in..."

My wobbly bottom lip broke his sentence. The glassy look on my face and my blurry vision was a tell-tale sign of what was to come.

His tense shoulders softened tremendously as he knelt down in front of me. "Don't do that, Adelaide."

The way his voice sounded when he said my name, like I was torturing him by crying, as if my tears were the bane of his existence; only made my tears flow stronger. I didn't want to be actually crying. The only reason I did tear up was because I'd been keeping my eyes open long enough for them to water.

I suppose though that I did need a good cry. Sitting alone in the room had me reflect on a lot of things. I was his prisoner, and other than wanting payment from my body (which he had yet to receive because somewhere in his twisted mind he believed that I was going to come to him willing) he had no other use for me. And that meant that if he got bored of waiting for me, he'd kill me. There was no way I was going to be off the hook, especially not after witnessing the murder of his fiance to be.

Vincent plucked the handkerchief from his breast pocket, whipping it to unfold it before dabbing the pattern cloth around my red rimmed eyes.

I had to take advantage of this situation fast- it was the only way I could get out of these handcuffs. I just hand to convince him that I wanted this- wanted him. And then he'd surely unlock my cuffs and I could go from there.

Not exactly my best plan, but it was the only one I had at the moment.

So without another thought, I hooked my cuffed hands around his neck, drawing him into my kiss. I slowly let my hand trail down his chest, ignoring the bumps and folds the material of his button up caused. The whole plan backfired in an instant when he lurched off me like I was some parasitic leech. And for a second, the way he looked at me made me feel like I was the dirt under his shoe.

He swiped his thumb over his lip, a stray strand of midnight hair falling past his eyes. "You can do a lot of things, Adelaide. But don't ever fake your feelings towards me. I can tell the difference far better than you think."