so easily shredded, so quickly forgotten.
Arianna’s haunted eyes shine through the screen, staring back at me. I’ve seen her before. I’ve watched the way he drags her through the halls and leads her to the dungeon. She’s submissive in her nature, but I don’t trust her or his offer. I don’t let anyone close for a reason.
And women make men fall.
I pull the jacket tighter around me and shove the phone back into my pocket.
I should stay away. I should take the money and let him fall on his own, carrying on with my life and ignoring the pathetic waste of life that is Danny Brooks.
But those eyes call to me. My contempt for him and what he represents make a side of me I try to keep suppressed rise to the surface.
And that’s a very dangerous thing.
Chapter 6
Arianna
You’re going up for auction.
Danny’s words run through my mind as I scrub at the spaghetti-stained plate vigorously, my eyes unfocused as I stare straight ahead into the wall, the rough Brillo pad digging into my soft skin. I’ve been at this for hours now, cleaning piles of dirty dishes after a day of hard work at the local shelter.
It was a packed house today, causing more chores to be done at closing. This job pays shit, but I don’t mind. I couldn't care less about the money. It’s about giving back and making my life have meaning. Coming here has always been my therapy, a way to escape my emotions. It’s been cathartic for me to help people who are down on their luck, and it eases some of the guilt that plagues me.
But not today.
I scrub the plate harder, a mix of pain and anger running through my body. The whip marks are a mess of bruises along my back and thighs, and each small movement is accompanied with a hint of pain. It's a reminder that I’m alive, that I can feel.
I haven’t been able to get my mind off Danny for more than a minute.
Even now, I can’t believe what he said to me. That he’s willing to put me up for auction like I’m just a commodity that can be bartered or sold at whim. And after everything we’ve been through. After everything he’s done for me. All because I’ve been unhappy with our sessions. But I am broken. Something’s changed, and I know I’m unhappy. What used to work isn’t helping me anymore.
I suck in a painful breath as I look down at the plate that I’m scrubbing. The red stains are clinging stubbornly to the surface. No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to get them out. Just like how dark memories cling to me, sticking in my mind no matter how hard I try to rid myself of them.
If I could just forget. I drop the plate into the suds and let it fall to the bottom of the basin. My fingertips are pruned as I stare at them, remembering everything.
The thought summons a dark specter, one that always seems to pounce whenever I’m depressed.
I always had a drink in my hand. Even as I stumbled in my heels, a drink was sure to be there. Drugs? Yep. I was down for anything. I just wanted to fit in. I wanted others to accept me. I didn’t go to college; I couldn’t afford it, and it damn sure wasn’t something my parents cared about. But I was at every party on campus.
That’s where I met Natalie, although she just talked to me, bringing me into her group. It was different when she was there. It was better, but back then I didn’t know. I just wanted to feel something. I needed something in my pathetic life.
I struggle against his powerful grip, my arms held back above my head against the bedpost, my eyes glazed and unfocused. I shouldn’t be here alone in this darkened room with him, but I drank too much and let him talk me into it. Now I’m regretting it big time, but the words are lost in the haze of alcohol.
Chase lowers his handsome face down close to mine as the walls shake from the bass of the music blasting through the frat house. “God, I’ve wanted you all night,” he says kissing my neck, his breath hot against my skin. “You asked for this.”
I shake my head weakly, insecurity twisting my stomach. I didn’t want this. I’m not like that. I don’t want to be thought of