This Darkest Man (14 page)

I
crawled on top of him once I had him as naked as me, pressing my skin against
his as I kissed at his muscled shoulders and chest, sucking to leave raspberry
red marks. He trailed his fingers down my spine, and that made me shiver and
tingle all at the same time as I enclosed my mouth over his nipple, licking it
and enjoying it harden in my mouth.    I gave it a slight nip and heard him give
an almost imperceptible grunt that had me smiling against his skin.

I
sat up and slipped him inside me, lowering myself down as I began to knead my
breasts, pinching my own nipples hard. The way he was staring at me made me
feel sexy, like I was on display and an object to be desired. I rode him slowly
as he looked up at me under eyes that seemed hazy with lust. When he grew tired
of my teasing, he swiftly flipped us over so he was on top and in control.

I
liked this way better, with him in control, and he brought me to orgasm
quickly. Not just once, but time and time again over the course of the night
until, utterly exhausted, I curled up in his arms and fell asleep.

He
was dressing when I woke up. I cracked my eyes open to spy him pulling on his
jeans, and I curved my lips up into a small smile, enjoying the view and
remembering how my hands had explored him the night before. He pulled the
t-shirt over his head, and tugged it down to cover his sculpted abs; it was
then that he turned to me.

“Good.
I was going to wake you up before I left.” He sat down on the bed as he put his
shoes on.

“I’m
glad that you weren’t going to leave without saying goodbye again.” I grasped
his free hand and gave it a quick squeeze.

Daniel
smiled at me. “I wouldn’t dream of it. I have to give you this.” He presented
me with a folded piece of crisp white paper and I stared at it, puzzled.

“What
is it?” I reached for it.

“Open
it and see.”

I
unfolded the paper and cast my eyes over the black letters. It took me a full
minute to comprehend what it was, and I only just managed to drag in a breath.

“An
eviction notice? For what? I pay my rent. I—I—”

“Shhh.”
He gave my hand a rub. “Don’t get upset, Mattie. I can evict anyone I want at
any time. And I’m afraid that it’s your time.”

I
lifted my eyes from the letter to his face; there was no mocking there, just
seriousness. “You own this building? Since when?”

“Don’t
concern yourself with that, Mattie. Just think about packing.”

I
struggled to breathe. “But why?” My voice was hoarse. “You’re punishing me for
things that people in my family did. It’s just not fair.”

“Life
rarely is.” He touched my hand again, but this time it was harder and I doubted
that I could have moved away from him. “But this isn’t a punishment for what
they did. This is punishment for what you did.”

I
stared at him and swallowed. “What do you mean? What are you talking about? I
swear to god that you’re crazy.”

His
lips quirked up into what may have been a ghost of smile, but all I saw was
sadness there. “No, Mattie. I’m not crazy,” he said quietly.

“Then
you’re cruel,” I managed to say. “You’re just cruel and evil and—”

“Really,
Mattie? Am I cruel and evil? Compared to you?” His eyes searched me, as if he
thought I would agree. Instead I grabbed at the sheet I was tangled in and
pulled it up to cover myself as I glared at him, ready to tell him he was crazy
and I was sick of his games, but then he leaned in close and whispered in my
ear. “I’m Jeremy’s brother.”

His
words served to freeze the blood in my veins and I couldn’t move. All there
seemed to be was the thumping of my heart at a dangerous level as bad memories
and shame flooded back to me.

He
leaned back, his face still serious. “I gave you a night, one night where I
treated you how you wanted and gave you the fairy tale. That was a kindness.
You should be grateful, it’s more than you deserve,” he continued.

“Get
out,” I said quietly. It took everything in me to control my voice.

“Very
well.” He stood, his hand freeing mine. He casually picked up his jacket from
the floor and held it in his hands, looking at it thoughtfully before he
returned his gaze to me. “If I were you, I wouldn’t bother going into work on
Monday. I think you’ll find that your services are no longer required.” I
didn’t react, even though everything within me was shaking. “And one last
warning: don’t go running off to your friend in France. You may find that her
internship has been cancelled, and you also might find issues with your
passport that may get you sitting in a French jail before being deported.”

We
held each other’s gaze, until he shifted. “Goodbye, Mattie. I’ll look forward
to you coming crawling to me and begging me for work.” And just like that, he
turned and walked out the door, so casual that he should have been whistling;
so casual as if he hadn’t just started to ruin my life.

I
stayed in bed for a long time after that, my fingers gripping that sex soiled
sheet like I was paralyzed, My head spun with his words and I felt like a
migraine was about to explode inside me. This was all too much to comprehend.
Cruel
and evil? Compared to you?

I
didn’t get dressed for the rest of the day, and ignored Erin’s attempt to
contact me. I couldn’t fake joy, this was all too real. The entire weekend was
spent in a daze and I ate little, existing on only instant coffee in an attempt
to get some kind of caffeine boost that might spur me into action. That never
happened but it meant that I couldn’t sleep.  On Monday, I dragged myself out
of bed and managed to make my way to work looking like a zombie.

It
was mid-morning by the time I was called into the manager’s office and politely
told that they regretfully had to terminate my employment due to information
that I didn’t disclose on my application. When I asked in a dull voice what
that information was, my manager exchanged a look with the HR advisor before
saying accusations of theft had been made against me and if I wished to take it
further, then they would be happy to have their lawyers meet with my lawyers
blah blah blah. They were nearly smug as they said that. There was no way I
could beat a law firm filled with formidable lawyers. A lawsuit from me would
be just an annoyance and nothing more.

I
didn’t argue or beg. I just walked out of there without saying goodbye to
anyone, so shocked and defeated that I barely remembered to take my purse with
me. I went back to the apartment that soon wouldn’t be mine anymore and took
stock of what was in my bank account and the prospects didn’t look good. It
cost money to move into a new place; money that I didn’t have.

I
tried not to think about Daniel and his words. I tried not to think of him as a
puppeteer and I some dumb wooden doll dancing on strings to his every command.
By the end of my first week of unemployment, it was clear that my name was
tarnished. Application after application was declined without even an
interview. It was enough to make me crawl up into a little ball and want to
die.

But
I didn’t. I had to keep fighting.

I
called my mother. Her number was still in my cell, and I had no idea if it were
still current. Last I had heard she was on a yacht with her new husband,
sailing around islands and drinking cocktails. It rang out to voicemail, her
voice with its cultured lilt that she had only acquired in adulthood asked me
to leave a message.

I
did, and it was stuttering request for money that was close to
incomprehensible. I hadn’t spoken to her in the last two years. There was no
argument or fight; it was just that there seemed no point in keeping in contact.
I had paid for college through a series of student loans, not even considering
asking her for help. When she had found her new husband, another wealthy man
who now doubt stepped over everyone in his way, she wasn’t keen on having an
adult daughter around. It made her seem old and she couldn’t have that.

After
I ended the call, I sat down in my apartment that was filled with half packed boxes.
No matter what happened, I would be leaving here. I fantasized about a world
that was away from Daniel and his control and manipulation. I wanted to be away
from what he knew about me and that look upon his face. But I needed money to
do that, and I had none.

Days
passed and there was no word from my mother. I imagined her sailing somewhere,
clad in a bikini and drinking cocktails as my eviction date loomed closer and
closer. I bought wine that I couldn’t afford, even though it was cheap, and I
drank until my head swam and I blacked out. But every morning I would wake up
with a pounding head and a darker depression.

I
couldn’t even get a job as a waitress, and soon I couldn’t even smile when I
went to inquire about vacancies at cheap eating establishments. Daniel’s words
played on my mind, like a shadow in my mind that shed a dark light over
everything and consumed me completely. That was when I knew what I had to do.

I
didn’t bother to dress up, although I did shower. I put on dirty jeans that
were mismatched with my clean sweater. Every step that I took seemed heavy, as
if my shame had manifested as cement in my boots. I sat outside the glass
structure that seemed formidable even in the bright sunshine and clear blue
sky. I had half expected to see a laughing devil reflected in the endless
windows, but there was only the conservative Hellman logo welcoming me in.

A
model-like receptionist sat behind a curved desk of dark glass in the lobby.
Her hair was scraped back into an elegant, complicated bun that sat upon the
top of her head and served to make her look severe and scary. I guessed that
that was the purpose behind it. She peered at me, emotionless as a robot when I
approached her.

“I
need to see Daniel Hellman.” My voice was weak and nervous, mouse-like and
timid, while this woman was like the steel and glass that formed Daniel’s lair.
I could have gone to see him at the club, but I liked the idea of seeing him
where his corporate image reigned supreme, tame compared to the debauchery of
Rubicon.

“Is
that right? Do you have an appointment?” She was mocking, her snootiness and
condescending manner well practiced. Daniel had probably trained her himself.

“No.
I’m Matilda Larsen.” I lifted my chin, stilled my shaking and tried to act like
I had a back bone. “He knows me well. Tell him I’m here to see him.” My tone
could have nearly passed for haughty; it belonged to someone else.

She
met my gaze, before pressing something hidden in her desk and speaking into the
minimalist head set that blended in with her dark hair. “I have a Matilda
Larsen for Mr. Hellman.” She waited impatiently for the person on the other end
to reply, tapping her red nails on the desk in an irritating rhythm. Finally,
her request was answered and she turned her gaze to me. “You can go up. Top
floor.” She pointed to the lifts and I just nodded at her in acknowledgement.

These
lifts weren’t mirrored like they were in the club, these were conservative on
every level and you would never know that the man that ruled here was a
debauched sex fiend. When the doors opened and led me out onto the floor where
Daniel’s office was, I was confronted with another woman sitting behind a
clean, minimalist desk. Although this one was older and conservative, she even
graced me with a smile as I stood in front of her.

“Ms.
Larsen? Please take a seat.” She gestured toward the leather chairs. “May I
offer you something to drink? Tea or Coffee?”

She
was being so kind that I thought I would cry, but of course I didn’t. “No,
thank you,” I whispered.

“Let
me know if you change your mind. He’s in a meeting at the moment but as soon as
he’s free, he’ll see you. It may be a long wait though.”

“That’s
fine,” I told her. I had nowhere to be anyway.

I
watched a clock tick away, second by second, but I didn’t care how long it
took. The longer I had before I had to face Daniel, the better. After an hour,
a group of people walked past me toward the lift, and not long after that did
the kind assistant escort me down a hallway and knocked on a door.

“Come
in,” I head him call from within. The assistant opened the door for me and
ushered me in before she closed it firmly behind me. The sound of the door
closing made me feel trapped and I stared longingly at it before turning to see
what was in front of me.

A
wall of glass showed an impressive view of the city, and before it sat Daniel,
watching me from behind his desk and dressed immaculately it what was probably
Armani.

“I
didn’t think that you’d be here so soon. I thought that you would make some
show of defiance at least.” He sounded amused, but it didn’t fire my blood; I
didn’t think that I had that capacity within me any longer. Defeat had dulled
everything.

“What
are you going to do?” I asked him.

He
stared at me, long and hard before saying, “I like to serve my own justice.”

“What
now then?” My tone was quiet; I had accepted whatever fate he had chosen for
me.

He
reached over and grabbed a square of paper. Taking a fountain pen he scrawled
an address on it before holding it out for me to take. “I’m giving you
employment. Be at this address tonight at eight.”

I
took it reluctantly, my eyes scanning over the writing. I didn’t bother to look
at him again as I turned to leave.

“Matilda,
I suggest you turn up. If you don’t…your punishment will be worse.”

I
didn’t give any indication that I had heard him. Instead I just concentrated on
putting one foot in front of the other and getting out of there. The assistant
gave me a polite smile as I left but I couldn’t reciprocate. I knew the name
that Daniel had written on the square of paper that I held in my hand.
Lucifer’s
—it was a seedy strip club that was notorious for its criminal clients. I
hadn’t known that Daniel owned it and a feeling of dread came over me. This
would be worse than anything that had come before.

I
didn’t bother to get changed before I headed to the club. I spent my meager
funds on a cab because it was an area that I didn’t want to risk walking alone
into or even taking a bus too. The fact that a driver hadn’t been sent for me
told me that things had definitely changed for the worst. Why had Daniel waited
to drop the bombshell on me that he knew what I had done? It was an awful event
that deserved punishment, why had he bothered playing with me before?

These
thoughts played heavily on my mind as I walked in the door. The place wasn’t
that busy, a few girls twisted around poles in the dim light, unenthusiastic
and looking like they were thinking about chores they needed to do tomorrow. A
few drunks sat around, watching them but they certainly didn’t look dangerous
or infamous. I walked over to the bar that was manned by a woman who looked
just as bored as the strippers.

She
raised an eyebrow when she saw me, telling me that I didn’t belong here.

“Um,
hi. I was told to come here. My name is Matilda Larsen.” I fidgeted with the
strap of my bag. This woman looked weathered as if she had seen everything
there was to see that was seedy and little would surprise her anymore.

She
gave a nod and pointed a long, talon-like fingernail. “Go through those doors,
the office is the last door on the right. Make sure that you knock first.”

“Thanks.”
I turned and walked past drunks to get to the double doors. When I pushed them
open I saw that they led to a dark hallway that was lit by a single, naked
bulb. The door that the bartender had directed me to had a name plate that said
‘Manager’ in tarnished bronze. I sucked in a breath and gave a knock on the
peeling paint of the door. There was no going back now, because there was
nothing to go back to.

“Yeah?”
came the gruff call from inside.

My
hand was shaking as I turned the doorknob and pushed it open. This man was just
like the club — old, dirty and sleazy. He rubbed a hand over his unshaven face
as his bloodshot eyes took me in as if I were a meal about to be eaten.

“I’m
Matilda Larsen.” I gripped the strap of my bag harder. I didn’t want to risk
accidentally touching anything in this filthy place, but something told me that
soon that would be unavoidable.

His
mouth split into a smile, revealing nicotine stained teeth. “Mat-il-da. You’ve
got some friends in high places.”

More
like enemies…

He
got to his feet. “C’mon. You’re upstairs. Follow me.”  He took me back out to
the corridor and up a narrow staircase that was so dark that it was easy to
miss a step. I stumbled once, and the man put a steadying hand on my elbow.
“Careful now. We don’t want you broken before we even get a chance to start.” He
winked at me, and I shrugged off his hand. His response was to smile like I was
entertainment.

At
the top of the stairs was another dingy corridor, and finally we were in what
looked like some kind of reception room. A girl with her hair in a high blonde ponytail
looked up as we entered. She looked hard, her lips too thin for the scarlet
lipstick she wore.

“Special
delivery,” cackled the man. “Make sure you follow instructions and don’t fuck
up,” he said to this girl.

She
gave him a withering glare. “Just take your fat ass downstairs where it
belongs.” She walked over to me and it was hard not to shrink from her gaze,
there was no kindness there. She picked up a strand of my hair and inspected it,
her mouth twisting in disapproval. “Are you sure I can’t do something with her
hair, or at least put make-up on her? She needs it.”

“Nope.
Just do what you’re told.”

“Fine,”
she huffed, turning her eyes to me again. “Hurry up. Follow me.” She turned and
started down the hallway while I hurried to follow.

“What’s
going on?” I asked. I had been determined to stay quiet and just face my
punishment with whatever dignity that I could muster. But now I was starting to
get scared.

She
didn’t bother to turn and look at me. “You’re going in the cage.”

“The
what?”

“The
cage,”
she said in a bored voice. “It’s an auction. They inspect you and
get to bid on you.”

“Bid
on me?” My voice was nearly soulless.

“Yeah.
But it’s so stupid that I’m not allowed to pretty you up and make you more
attractive. After all, you have to go through being treated like that and to
only get a percentage of a very small auction price. It seems like a waste of
time to me.” Her ponytail swished behind her as she walked.

“Hold
on. I get
paid
.”

She
stopped and turned, frowning. “Of course. Are you stupid or something? The
longer you get kept, the more you earn. The auction determines the weekly fee,
and the winner gets to keep you as long as they want. Some girls get returned
after the week’s up, or earlier if they’re a disappointment. Although I know
one girl who got kept for six months.” The girl let out a whistle. “She was
rolling in dough, lucky bitch.”

“Is
this legal?”

The
girl rolled her eyes at me. “You signed a contract didn’t you? It’s just like
selling sex any other way.”

My
heart started to thump harder as she opened a door. This led to a large space
with couches and a bar with neon lights. There were several stages, but what
caught my eyes was the cage with iron bars that sat in the center of the room.
The girl locked in there would be in view from any position in the bar.

“Normally,
the girls go on stage and show themselves off, but I’m supposed to just lock
you in the cage before everyone gets here.” She looked at me with almost
sympathy. “Sorry, you’re probably going to get a little stiff in there.” She
twirled a finger. “Take your clothes off.”

“What?
Here?”

She
laughed. “No one’s in here. It’s just us. Anyway, everyone is going to see you
soon enough.” She must have read the look on my face as something else. “Don’t
worry. Your stuff won’t get stolen. It gets locked away. Promise.”

I
stared at her, stricken while she tapped her foot impatiently. Then, slowly, I
began to undress, holding my garments in front of me in a useless attempt at
modesty. The girl just laughed and pulled them from my grip. “Don’t worry, soon
you won’t even care that you’re naked.” She carelessly dropped my clothes at
her feet before pulling what looked like a scarf out of her pocket. “Blindfold
for you. Special order.”