Tortured - Jaele

|| Chapter Twentytwo ||

Riele -

My feelings are hurt, and I'm not sure why. I slip my fingers over the moist, wet surface of my skin. Replaying that last moment in my head, I can only imagine what I look like when I come. But it must have been ridiculous because Jace left. Without any reason, and I feel as if it's my fault. I turn on my side, feeling wounded. Am I not pretty enough for him anymore? I shouldn't care... But I did. Suddenly I was feeling like I did when we first had sex. Mediocre. Was I a mediocre lover to him? He had brushed me off as if I didn't matter. As if I was just some kind of toy he was using whenever he pleased. I closed my eyes and I gulped at the salty tasting lump that was closing my throat. And now, why am I about to cry?

Why am I feeling this way? I know for sure he's done something bad to me. Something above humane. If only I knew what it was. Am I falling for him? Is he making me fall for him? But then again I wonder how... His only weapon is sex. I opened my eyes again and blinked at the moonlight. I prayed one prayer, one quiet plea of help. Please Lord, don't let me fall in love with this delusional psychopath abductor.

...

The next time I open my eyes my head is hurting and my nipples are sore. I feel as if I have a hangover. The sun is coming up, still shrouded in purple and blue clouds. I hear a door open and close and turn towards the noise.

"Good, you're up. I need you to get dressed right now."

Jace went to the closet as I sat up and squinted, rubbing my eyes.

"Why?"

My voice was still very hoarse and sounded as if I belonged in a cigarette commercial. Jace came out again and gave me that half-lidded "No bullshit today" look.

"If I wanted to be questioned, I'd have turned myself into the police by now. Get up, get dressed and meet me in the living room in 15 minutes. Got it?"

Jace threw a little black dress and a pair of matching heels onto the edge of the bed, fixing a tie around his neck. Before I could argue anymore with him he was gone, and he slammed the door closed on his way out. I rolled my eyes and grabbed the dress. Apparently sleeping with him didn't have any perks either. I took the dress and squeezed myself into it after a shower. The heels were too small for me, but I managed to tuck my feet into them. I left the bathroom and rushed into the living room with 30 seconds to spare. Jace was sitting on the sofa, watching the news. I got a quick glance of it before he grabbed the remote and turned the television off. The headline was Mother of two missing after visitation supervision. Jace studied my appearance. I wanted to slouch and play with my hands like a child.

But I stood there with my back erect and my eyes fixed on something outside of the window. These heels will be the death of me, I swear.

"Do something with your hair."

He ordered, standing up. I looked at him, and he just stared back at me. His face wasn't holding any solid emotion that I could Identify.

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"It's too curly. Straighten it."

He replied crisply. I felt my nerves pinching, slightly. I wanted to pop off at him like the ratchet black girl that lived deep down inside of me. Every black woman has one if ever pushed to her limits. I put my hand on my hip and felt the bone poking against my hand. That's how tight the dress was. It felt like a black body hugging band-aid.

"And how am I supposed to do that?"

Jace straightened his cufflinks, tilted his chin and regarded me with very little eye contact.

"Isabela has kept a flat iron under the sink in the bathroom, I would have thought you remembered that with how much you snoop around here."

He said. I narrowed my eyes at him. He's acting like last night never happened.

"Do you know how long that's going to take me?"

He glanced at his watch with his upper lip poking out.

"You've got a few hours, I guess you should get started then."

Zero emotion detected from him expression whatsoever. I found it incredible how he turned into a heartless jerk whenever he wanted to.

"Are you fucking kidding me!"

I snapped, spinning around to stomp back to the bathroom. Behind me, I felt Jace grab my arm and yank me backwards to face him. His eyes were almost black as they burned into mine.

"Does it look like I'm fucking kidding? If you've gotta problem baby girl, I'd be happy to fix it for you."

His grip was so tight I winced, short of breath. When I stayed quiet he let go of me and I rubbed my arm, hanging my head as I walked back into the bathroom making very little noise. What the hell happened to him? He was acting so much meaner than I've seen in the last few days, I thought to myself as I closed the door. I looked at my reflection in the mirror. For reasons unknown to me, I have only a few hours to straighten all of this curly hair. I hunted underneath the sink for the flatiron Jace had mentioned. It was an upscale flatiron 450 degrees, smooth silver titanium plates and sparkling ruby exterior. I sighed and stared at the tool heating up in my hand after I had plugged into the wall. Fuck you, I said to Jace in my head. Fuck you and all your bi-polar ass mood swings.

Thanks for reading! You know the drill :)