Page 43 of Piggy

Charlotte

My eyes open. The van is gone. I am on a bed.

Clink .

I glance down. My wrists are handcuffed. A long chain links me to the wall.

Holy—

I am a prisoner!

The room is dim. Familiar, though. My heart slams against my ribs as I recognize it: Meghan’s place!

My hands shoot into my shorts. I’m not sore. Maybe those men didn’t rape me.

I try to breathe a sigh of relief, but my mouth is shut. I touch it.

Duct tape.

It’s strong. I pick at the corner. Slowly, I start to peel—

“Don’t do that,” says a deep voice, laced with warning.

My gaze snaps in that direction. A man leans against the wall, arms crossed, grotesque mask on, looking bored .

He moves toward me slowly. One foot after another. Like a predator taking his time before attacking his injured prey. He pulls off the mask.

My heart drops .

Grayson.

I garble into the tape, voiceless and desperate to speak. Without thinking, I race from the bed, sinking my body against his tall, muscled frame.

He chuckles, his wide chest rumbling under my ear. “The little brat missed me, huh?”

I pause.

I step back and look around, reality sinking in.

He wore a mask. He held me in the van. He tasted my skin like he couldn’t get enough.

Grayson kidnapped me.

But this moment is not: I got out of prison. Now, let’s talk. Patch things up.

“You’re wondering how,” he says smoothly. “Atticus gave the cops the recording. Meghan’s little confession.”

Oh Atticus. That sweet, trusting brother of mine. For once, I wasn’t aware of his heroics.

Just then, I flinch as Grayson’s hand brushes my cheek.

“I bet if I take off that tape,” he murmurs, “you’ll say anything to get on my good side. But I’ve learned not to trust that little mouth of yours.”

Oh God, is he making good on his promise? To kill me !

I’m sorry , I try to say, but it’s inaudible under the tape’s sticky bond.

“I warned you, baby. I’ll never let you go if I can help it.”

My chin trembles.

“Even if you run. Even if you don’t love me anymore.”

I shake my head because I didn’t mean that!

“Oh? Let me guess. That was a lie?”

I nod vigorously.

His thumb slides over the tape, feeling my lips underneath, slow and almost taunting. “But you’re a liar, Charlotte. And the worst part? I still want to hear every lying word you moan.”

I shake my head slowly, then squeeze his hands to show my remorse. After all, I am remorseful for my outburst!

He brings my hands to his mouth, dragging his lips along my knuckles. He breathes in deeply through his nostrils. “You’re my girl.”

His girl.

I beam at those words, hope bubbling up that my pleading eyes got through to him. Yes, he’ll free me.

“My girl... but also my prisoner,” he adds, dragging his knuckles down my neck. “And now, I get to train you my way. Keep you where you belong.” He smirks, cocky and cold. “I hated leaving you, baby. You’re too stupid to stay out of trouble without me. You didn’t even lock the patio door.”

Before I know it, I catch a flash of metal. Something thick slips around my neck .

A collar.

He steps back and holds up a silver tool. “Riveted on. Might as well be permanent on that pretty neck.”

His fingertip gives the leather a small tug and he whispers to himself, “Finally. She’s all mine.”

Just then, he rips off the duct tape, leaving fire in its wake.

“Ow!” I scream, covering my mouth to soothe the burn.

But my breath catches sharply.

I grab my throat as a searing pain explodes down my neck!

He shakes his head. “Tsk, tsk. It’s a dog collar. You scream, it shocks you.” He holds up a remote and clicks a button. I buckle over fast, falling onto my knees. “You don’t behave, then I’ll shock you.”

I pant, shaking and hurt.

He kneels beside me, gently lifting my chin up. The anger behind those piercing eyes fades, replaced with reverence.

“You may not love me, Charlotte,” he murmurs, thumb brushing my jaw, “but fuck , I love you. Being away from you? I never missed such a small, annoying thing so much. Seeing you in that prison? Goddamn killed me. Because I couldn’t touch you.

Couldn’t have you. And then you spoke those filthy words.

Couldn’t discipline you, either. Pure torture. ”

My eyebrows pitch, lips parting in disbelief. He wasn’t unhappy to see me? He missed me!

But I’m so confused and simply plead with him. “This isn’t right. This isn’t you.”

A flicker of genuine curiosity crosses his face .

“You think I’ve gone too far, huh?”

I nod, my voice small. “Grayson... please. Don’t do this. How could any woman love a man who chains them to a wall?”

He smirks, eyes glinting. “I’m not asking for love anymore.”

He leans closer, the familiarity of him creating a hurricane of desire and fear. Slowly, he drags the remote down my chest.

“I don’t need your heart. I don’t even need your trust. I just need you. Here. In my bed. In my grasp. Always.”

He tips his head toward the corner. “Fridge. Bathroom. Bed. TV. Everything my dumb little pet needs.”

Then, his gaze dips to my thighs. I freeze, breath hitching the moment his fingertips graze the cotton of my shorts, just over my slit.

“And if there’s something else you want... beg. I’ll give it to you. Or take it for myself. Either way, I know you’ll be drenched for my cock.”

I shake my head, fast, small.

He grins wickedly, then stifles a laugh. Lightly, he pinches my sensitive bud of nerves through the fabric. “How long will it take before your panties are soaked? Your pussy fucking loves me. Don’t deny it.”

I shudder and look away, whimpering from my body’s betrayal.

Because I am aching for him. Despite my shorts as a barrier, the second his hand met my pussy, I clenched, wanting more. Wanting him.

Grayson just does it for me. Everything about him. That voice, his touch, and now that cocky, psychotic smile.

But he interrupts my shameful thoughts.

“And if you disobey?” He clicks the device. Pain flares at my neck, stealing my breath. “I’ll make you squeal for all the wrong reasons.”

I stare up at him, chin trembling, tears streaking down my face. This doesn’t make sense, though. Imprisoning me is crazy.

I shake my head, confused. Even though this situation changes everything, I try to reason with him, if nothing else but to escape.

“Grayson, we could go back to my house... live the way we were. Me as your girlfriend. Why chain me up?”

He laughs, dark and sinful. Then, he leans closer, his face just inches from mine, causing me to recoil instinctively.

“That’s cute, baby.Pretending you still want me. The sadist you flinch from. The man who’d do anything for you, but still, not enough for you to really love me.”

His thumb brushes my wet cheek, slow and tender. But his voice cuts like a blade.

“That’s fine. All women are disappointments, not just my mother.”

He leans closer still, lips grazing my ear, causing the heat of desire to race to my hips. Yet, the ping of terror swells in my chest, sending my heart into overdrive .

I sense his hunger, too. The way he’s looking at me. A predator restraining himself. Dying to pounce on his helpless prey.

But he only exhales, the closeness making him shudder. “But you? You dumb, precious girl. You’re my favorite disappointment. Mine to keep. To take care of. To train.”

I’m speechless and torn.

And suddenly, in the back of my mind, Meghan’s words echo, what she told me to write in that letter:

Tell him you don’t love him.

I did.

It broke him.

But it didn’t send him back to her.

It caged me closer to him.

My Grayson wasn’t this dark before.

I don’t know how to fix this.