Snare (Delirious book 1) (14 page)

He was fucking himself in a library, and I was peeping along, being a pervert. Jesus, it was hot.

What am I thinking?

I shake my head, still walking backward, when a hand grabs my wrist.

“Where are you going?” Sebastian says with a calm, yet amused voice. As if this conversation is the most normal thing in the world.

“Away from here.” I try not to sound startled.

“You mean away from me.”

“Yes.”

He doesn’t let go of my wrist. Instead, he grabs my other wrist, too, pinning them behind my back. “Who said you could leave?”

I frown. “You can’t keep me here against my will.”

“Oh, but I can.” He leans close to my ear and sniffs. “You smell nice, Miss Carrigan. Like roses.”

“Get off me.”

“Is that really what you want? Last time, I recall,
you
were the one who wanted me so badly you couldn’t leave me alone,” he whispers. “Don’t deny it.”

“I’m not, but you’re scaring me, and I want to leave. Now.”

He chuckles close to my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “Not yet.”

“I’ll call the guard if you don’t release me.”

“They won’t help you. You see, everyone here works for me.”

My eyes widen. “What?”

“I own this place, Miss Carrigan.”

I hold in my breath. Shit. If he owns this entire library … that means he’s capable of manipulating all the workers. He could get away with anything in here, and still I would be the one sitting on hot coals.

Shit.

Terror fills me for the first time. I’ve never felt this before with Sebastian. Why is it so different from the hospital?

I struggle to release myself from his grip, but it only tightens. I wriggle, but it’s no use. Sebastian pushes me against a wall in the back, far away from any exit. I’m trapped.

“I know what you saw. My hand … stroking my cock … cum bursting from the tip.” His hot breath tingles against my ear. “I also know you liked it.”

“Screw you.”

“Oh … now you’re fighting me?” He smiles; I can feel his teeth against my skin. “What changed, Miss Carrigan?”

“You.”

Suddenly, he twists me around in his arms, pinning my hands to the wall. Staring me dead in the eye, he leans in, his mouth almost touching mine. “Was it exciting for you to watch me jerk my cock? Did it give you pleasure?”

I slam my mouth shut, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks.

He laughs. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice you following me into the library?”

“You knew all this time, and you didn’t say anything?”

His eyes are half-mast now. “Why would I? You wanted to see me, touch me. Well, here I am.”

“No …” I shake my head. “You’re twisting everything.”

He smiles wickedly. “That’s because I
am
twisted. You see, I know you liked watching me … I could see it in your eyes. It excited me. Yes, I looked at them while I came. They glistened with pure wantonness when my cum painted the floors. I bet you were thinking about licking it all up. Would you like to do that, Miss Carrigan?”

I cock my head away from his lips as he moves in to kiss me. My disapproval has him hesitating, waiting, and then leaning back again to look at me. “This was what you wanted, no?”

“No …”

“Yes.” Without warning, his hand leaves my wrist and dives between my legs. I gasp, not knowing what to do with this sudden intrusion. The grasping and fondling. The lust I’m feeling.

“Can you feel how wet you are? How much of a dirty girl you really are? You definitely enjoyed that a little too much. Does that frighten you?”

I’m too shocked at my own emotions and at what’s going on to move. I can’t even answer his questions. His hand slides out again, my dampness all over his finger. He brings it to his nose and smells it. “Your scent arouses me, Miss Carrigan.”

“You’re disgusting,” I murmur, but it pains me to say it. It’s my conscience speaking.

“Oh, really? Is that your opinion now? And here I was, thinking you wanted me for being a knight in shining armor. I guess that fantasy is shattered now.” He brings his finger to his mouth and licks the tip, dipping out his tongue completely. My eyes follow his tongue as it flicks around his finger, my lip quivering from the thought of what he could do with it. What it could do to me.

“I could fulfill a different fantasy, however. Hmmm … I could eat you right here, right now, if I wanted to.”

“If you got my permission, that is,” I scoff.

He lets go off my wrist, his hand drifting down my arm, down my body, invading every pore in my body with his arousal. “I don’t ask for permission.”

“You would do such a thing? Take me against my will?” I lower my arms, but they mysteriously wrap themselves around his neck instead of hitting him and making a run for it.

It seems my lusty brain has taken over completely.

“You have no idea what I’m capable of, Miss Carrigan. Which is exactly why I told you that you don’t know me, and that I am
not
who you’re looking for. I’m a bad person, Miss Carrigan. You’re looking for an angel who doesn’t exist.”

“I don’t believe it.”

His demeanor suddenly changes. He squints, moving closer, towering over me like some dominating man who craves control. “You should. I do bad things to people, Miss, very bad things. I’m not a good man. I’m not someone you want, someone you need; I’m someone you run away from. So run. Get out of here.”

I shake my head, trembling in place.

He fake-bites in the air. Startled, I move back an inch, my hands dropping to my side.

“See? You are scared. Don’t deny it.”

I swallow. “I’m not.”

“Liar. You know, I can tell from the way you’re trembling. Be scared. Be terrified of me. Because all this, what I just did, making you watch my jerk-off session … was a warning.” He looms over me like someone who’d rather see me in pain than have mercy. “Was the spanking not enough for you to fear me?”

“No …” I whisper.

“There are worse things I can do than that. It was only a fraction of the pain I could inflict. The worst is the part where it hits you in the heart. I’m trying to spare you that misery.” He grabs my shoulders. “Now go. Get out. Leave. Me. Alone.”

Tears spring into my eyes. “You’re cruel …”

He sighs, then nods as he lets go of me completely. “If only you knew.”

His words shake me to my core. He doesn’t want me at all. I’m just a toy he used for his own amusement. Even when he says he doesn’t know me, he still abuses the power he has over me. The fact that I want him is my weakness, and he exploits that.

Why? What does he want? What does he gain from chasing me away?

Regardless, I walk. I have to leave, have to get out of this place. I can barely breathe. My legs start running, and soon they are chasing the ghost of a man I once knew.

Accompanying song: “
Arsonists Lullabye” by Hozier

Room 54. Providence, Rhode Island – April 27
th
, 2013

I grab a plastic bag and some paper and start picking up the leftovers from last night. There’s lots of spilled food on the floor, and it smells rancid. A plastic cap in front of my mouth won’t hold back the stench. It’s not because the food has gone stale so quickly; more because of what it’s mixed with. Alas, I find it a somewhat shameful confession that I’m getting used to the smell. I just don’t think about it often. Keeps me sane.

After I’m done picking up the mess, I scrub the floors meticulously to make sure the stains are gone and the foul stench has disappeared. I like using my special brand of disinfectant; it always seems to do the trick. I guess this is why I’m always the one cleaning everything afterwards—I’m the only one who knows how to make it spotless again.

It’s one of the benefits of being so adamant about cleanliness. It has its pros and cons. Especially considering where it all came from. My father used to make me scrub the floors and tables for hours. There was always this pungent smell hanging in the house. It reeked of alcohol and puke. Sometimes, I think he made me clean just to cover up for his filth.

My father was not a kind man. Luckily, he’s not here to torment me anymore.

I still remember everything. Every bit of the humiliation he put me through. He’d show me how to properly dress myself and perfect my stride, my hair, my smile. Everything. If not, I would get a slap. Slaps turned into beatings if I didn’t improve. And so I kept improving until I no longer knew what it was like to not hate dirt. I hate it with every pore in my body.

I think back on yesterday, how I spilled my cum all over myself while that woman watched me. Of course, I cleaned up the aisle right away after Miss Carrigan left. No cum or sweat shall stain the floors of my beautiful halls. What can I say? I hate being dirty, but I can’t help myself either.

Miss Carrigan … just thinking about her creates a storm in my head. She will ruin me. Just by coming back, she’ll destroy me. I can’t let it happen. I cannot have relationships. Not of any sort. Not even if it’s temporary, with or without sex. If someone found out … no, I can’t let it happen.

Dammit, I still can’t believe she followed me again. What was she thinking? That I’d be gentle? I shake my head. No way. I shouldn’t be thinking about such a thing right now. I have much more important things to do, like sanitizing this floor.

I digress so quickly, but I suppose that’s normal when you’ve been cleaning for hours. I can’t help but let my mind drift. Anything to take my mind off the fact that I’m touching the most gruesome thing on earth.

When I’m done with the floors, I check the table. The heavy black bag is zipped up and ready for transport, so I grab it with both hands and tug it off the table. The smack it makes doesn’t faze me anymore. Neither does the dragging and slipping as I haul it through the door and out the emergency exit. It takes some effort to throw it over the fire escape stairs, and the sound it makes once it hits the asphalt is anything but appealing.

I run down the stairs and open the trunk of the hearse I own and chuck the bag in the back, closing the lid afterwards. I drive and drive, not thinking about anything. Traffic keeps my mind adrift, away from insanity. A weight is lifted off my shoulder as I drop the body off at the morgue. They sign the paperwork, and I give them the small bribe. They don’t need much. All I ask for is silence. They register her into the system. Cause of death: suicide by jumping off a building. It suits her injuries well. The staff doesn’t complain. At least they received a complete one this time. Not that they
could
complain. If they would, they’d die.

There is no such thing as choice or free will. All that exists is those with power and those without. Obeying those that command. They’re blinded by their own ignorance if people think they stand a chance against those who own them. Money. The tool that was invented to live, to be free and care for people, is used for pain, anguish, domination, and rule. Money is the blood in our veins that keeps us alive or kills us.