Cabin of Axes - Bea Paige Page 0,41

me who asked you to run. I remember now. I wrote that note…”

“What? But that isn’t your handwriting,” Berrin points out.

“I was trained in the act of deception, Berrin. We all were, it’s not difficult to change your handwriting.”

“This is fucked up,” Mathieson growls.

“I’m not denying that,” Franklin retorts. Reaching forward he runs his fingers over my cheek, before grasping my face in his grip and leaning in. “You’d be wise to walk away. Walk away and never look back… Goldie,” he whispers, before brushing his heated lips against mine.

Chapter Thirteen

My breath is caught in my throat and my fingers are curled into Berrin’s thighs behind me as Franklin pulls back, his kiss still lingering on my lips.

Goldie.

That’s me. That’s who I am. It didn’t feel right before when I sounded the name out but coming from Franklin’s lips, it does.

“Are you certain that you want the truth?” Franklin asks me one last time.

Despite the fear curdling in my stomach at the way he’d just warned me away, I nod my head. This is what I wanted. I have too many unanswered questions to walk away now.

“Okay,” he says, unlocking the door and stepping into the darkness. We follow him into the space as Franklin flicks on the light switch, illuminating the workshop and the life size statues within. My eyes blink back the sudden light and it takes a second for my brain to catch up with what I’m seeing.

“Oh my God,” I exclaim, holding up a hand to cover my mouth. Shock has me glued to the spot, stiffening my limbs, and sending my heartrate rocketing.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Berrin curses.

“What the fuck? We carved these?” Mathieson says, his voice trailing off as his fingers run over the statue that is a perfect replica of me.

“That’s me…” I mumble stupidly.

A naked me. A naked me tied up with chains. Chains.

For a moment all I can do is stare at my replica carved in wood. She’s so intricately detailed, so utterly flawless that I’m taken aback. The shape of her mouth parted on a sigh, the slight bend in her nose, the thick eyebrows and small ears, the curve of her waist and the slight plumpness of her stomach, all are a perfect copy of me. She’s extraordinary, a true work of art and yet… the chains give this beautiful statue a more sinister feel. They’re thick and heavy, wrapped tightly around her body. Her head is tipped back, her eyes closed, her mouth parted, and her expression is a strange concoction of fear and ecstasy. My cheeks heat as my gaze lowers and rests on her fingers buried between her legs.

My fingers, my legs. Me.

This statue is me and fear spikes, but so too does desire. It’s a heady combination that has my blood pumping and my fight or flight instinct kicking in.

“W-why am I chained up?” I stutter, both dread and lust scattering down my spine at the incredibly lifelike statue and her obvious arousal. I have to keep reminding myself that it’s made of goddamn wood, that I’m the real deal. Franklin’s gaze darkens and he bares his teeth, focusing his gaze on me just like a bear that’s come out of a long hibernation and needs to satiate his hunger. I swallow hard.

“This isn’t even the worst of it…” he growls, the words thick and sensual.

“The worst…?” My voice trails off at the look of sheer longing on Franklin’s face.

“These are just a few examples of how thoroughly we fucked you, Goldie,” Franklin responds, his fists clenching at his sides. “We used you up and fucked you raw hour after hour. We couldn’t get enough of you. We wanted every part of you, and we took it…”

A low rumble erupts from his throat and I’m both turned on and appalled by it. He takes a step closer, and I take another step back.

“This isn’t… I wouldn’t… I’m not a fucking sexual deviant…” Berrin suddenly says, trying to reassure me as he places his hand on my lower back. It’s meant to be a comforting gesture, but I shrink away from him as my gaze catches another statue. The one he’s staring at right now. This time there are two people carved from the piece of wood. In this carving Berrin is standing behind me with his hand wrapped around my throat. I can see the indent of his fingers pressing into my skin, they’re so tight that there’s no questioning his intent. Doing this to someone