Legacy

Chapter 9: The Trade

My mind goes back to when he caught me trying to kill him that first time. His quick reaction, my hopeless struggling. All that blood on the floor and walls...

Michael's lips brush against my ear. "Are you ready to cooperate now?" I thrash beneath him to no avail. "Because if not," he grips my wrists so tightly that I can feel my bones bend under the pressure, "I can always change your little punishment to something way more..." I feel his lips gently press against my cheekbone, "fun." I can feel the playful smile on his lips.

Change my punishment? How can he...? Wait. The first card I picked...

"Then change it," I say behind clenched teeth. His face quickly rises from mine and he quirks a curious brow at me. "The first card said two punishments. It didn't say anything about what two they should be." I don't back down from staring back at him. 

"How badly do you not want to do the hot poker play?" His expression is blank, but there is a flicker of excitement behind his eyes. I bite my lip and squeeze my eyes shut. "I see," his voice is devoid of any emotion.

Michael's weight lifts and I allow my eyes to open. His hand is held out to help me up. I take it reluctantly. He pulls me up to my unsteady feet.

"Alright," is all he says. "What did you have in mind?"

I don't know how to answer the question, so I settle for a tiny shake of my head. He quirks a brow, analyzing my answer.

"You don't want the hot poker play?"

Another small shake. "No," I whisper, looking down at our feet.

"It's either that," his fingers hook under my chin, pulling my face up to look back at him, "or a punishment of my choosing."

A punishment of his choosing? This could be worse than anything else he could have said. And considering what he's already done, it actually might be worse. He could hurt me in so many other ways than with a hot poker.

All I know is that I already am sporting a broken nose and a bruised back along with the many preexisting injuries from my father.

"I..." I swallow, looking up into his ice-cold eyes. "I just... I just don't want to-want you to hurt me again." Damn, my stuttering. I can't look into those eyes anymore, so I squeeze my eyes shut again.

His lips brush against my forehead. "If you have me choose, I promise that I won't add another mark to your beautiful body." Those cold hands run up and down my arms.

I nod, not opening my eyes.

"I need to hear you say it," he says, impatiently squeezing my shoulders.

My knuckles are white because of my clenched fists. "Michael," I say as I open my eyes, "will you," I gulp, "please choose my punishment?"

"Punishments." The word crashes through my body and I try not to collapse to the cold hard floor. "That is the price of this change." I don't offer to answer him. "I'll take your silence as a yes," he says with a broad smile. "Instead of hot poker play," my fists clench and unclench with anticipation of the next words to come out of his mouth, "we are going to..." he pauses for effect, a tiny smirk playing on his lips, "take a relaxing bath together."

What's so relaxing about that?

Thank god he stepped around me to start drawing the bath; I don't know how to respond to that.

The tension in my joints relaxes. I did tell him that I didn't want him to hurt me again, so I guess this is kind of a step up.

It's just a bath... It's just a bath... It's just a bath...