Page 50 of Sunrise (Monarch Club #3)
Sophie
I can’t move very well. Not enough to fight or run. Laying in the back seat of my car, tears slide down my nose.
I’m going to die.
Everything was going so well, and now…
“I’ve missed you so much, Madame.”
My entire body cringes inside. I can’t tell where he’s taking me. At first, I tried to keep track of the turns, but at this point, my fear’s fogged my brain, and I’m lost.
“Don’t worry,” he says. “You’ll gain your functions back soon. Then we can play.”
My throat is swollen and itchy. My vision’s wonky. I think my eyes are crossed.
“I’ve been waiting so long to be with you, Madame.
You’re always so busy. It’s been a true test of my patience.
” His thumb taps the steering wheel. Thump-tha-thump.
Thump-tha-thump. “It was nice seeing you at the club, though. Too bad you ended the session so fast.” He takes a right turn, putting on his blinker and presumably sticking to the speed limit.
Thump-tha-thump.
Thump-tha-thump .
“Did you like the butterflies I made you? ”
I don’t speak.
“Midnight Run is pretty decent. The food’s good.”
I’m going to be sick.
“You looked lovely the other day, laying in the sun when everyone played basketball.”
I’m going to pass out.
“I wonder how much you ingested.” He looks back at me, face scrunched in apprehension. “Hey.” He pushes my leg. “Don’t die on me, okay? We haven’t had our fun yet.” When I don’t respond, his concern intensifies. “How much did you touch those flowers?”
My heart slogs in my chest.
I somehow flop off the backseat and land on the floor. I think he’s slammed on the brakes. Nothing feels right. I can’t… grab onto a thought…
Staying awake is the only thing I focus on.
I have to last one more minute .
That’s what I used to say to myself when I’d run long distance for track. Go for one more minute. I can do anything for one more minute.
Those minutes drag by until he eventually opens the door and the world spins, colors blur, and smells confuse me as I’m, I think, hauled out of my car and into a garage. I can’t comprehend what’s going on.
Next thing I know, I bounce on whatever I’ve just been tossed onto. A couch maybe? It smells like dog.
“Stay with me,” Christopher says, but his voice is muffled. The ringing in my ears gets louder.
Suddenly, there’s a pinch in my arm.
Within seconds, the ringing in my ears dissipates, and everything starts coming back into focus. My skin prickles. A few more minutes pass, and I can almost flex my hand.
“There we go,” he says, sounding relieved.
“Jesus, you gave me a scare there.” Swiping the hair from my face, he checks the pulse in my neck.
I can wiggle my feet. “What the hell did you do, Madame? Eat one of the roses? That stuff shouldn’t have hit you this quick unless it was absorbed into…
” He pauses, and something must dawn on him.
“Oh, you naughty little slut. Did you fuck one of my flowers?”
He reaches between my legs, and I feebly knock his hand away.
“Now we’re back in business,” he says with excitement. Then his face twists into anger and he tackles me. I can’t put up much of a fight yet, but I sure as hell try. We end up on the floor where he manages to pin me down and zip tie my hands together. Then he heaves me back onto a couch.
“Sit. Stay.” He shoves his finger at me. “Don’t fucking move, I mean it.”
I spit in his face.
He wipes it off with his thumb and sucks it. “God, I’ve missed you.”
While I beg my body to keep normalizing so I can fight my way out of here, Christopher leaves me in the living room. There’s a dog cage in the corner with a blanket over it. Pictures are taped all over the wall. They’re all of me.
Oh my god .
He’s been stalking me for months .
Desperate to escape, I notice the kitchen on my left, where there’s a back door with a bolt on it.
The faint scent of bleach lingering in the air makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
The windows have wooden blinds hiding us from the outside world.
I can’t tell where I am, but I don’t think we drove very far.
Whatever he gave me to counteract the shit in my system is really kicking in now. I’m just a little nauseous, but definitely better. The antidote is incredibly fast-acting.
As was the fucking drug.
Christopher returns, dressed in leather pants and a full-face mask with the zipper open so I can see his mouth. He tosses a leather outfit at me. I glower at it, repulsed. But it gives me an idea…
My throat hurts when I snap at him. “Am I supposed to wear that thing?”
He nods.
“How, when I can’t use my hands, Animal?”
The use of his old honorific makes something in him shift. I swear he turns into a different monster almost instantly. He’s more eager, less angry.
I use it to my advantage.
“Look at you. So scrawny and weak.” Only half sitting up, I can’t seem to gain full functionality yet. “You haven’t even helped your Madame sit properly.”
He springs into action and gently helps me sit up straight.
“Take this zip tie off me, Animal.”
He shakes his head, going mute on me. It immediately throws me back to the Monarch Club when he snapped his fingers at his partner and shook his head silently at her, too. She was so scared. So nervous and anxious.
Oh no, what did he do to her after they left the club ?
“Do you want to be punished for disobeying your Madame?”
He nods.
“Then get in your cage.”
Christopher doesn’t budge.
“In. Your. Cage. Animal!”
He backhands me across the face. My vision flashes white as pain shoots down to my toes. The force of his hit rocks me sideways on the couch, but I realize I’ve got full mobility now. I might not have enough strength yet, but I’m able to move my limbs completely.
He sees it, too.
Gathering my scattering thoughts, I slip back into the scene. “Get on your knees, Animal.”
He sinks onto the ground, hands balled into fists at his side. Tipping his head back a little, he stares at me with this contemptuous look that makes me wish I had a gun so I could blow his motherfucking brains out.
“See what you made me do?” I rise on wobbly legs in front of him. “You made me piss myself.”
He groans like that’s the best news he’s heard all day.
“Bad,” I snap at him. “I should shove your nose in it. That’s what we do with naughty animals, don’t we?”
He nods.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To roll in my piss.”
He nods again.
“Earn it, Animal.” I lean down with my hands tightly zip tied. My shoes are gone already. The carpet feels soft between my toes and my dress is tight around my ribcage. Every little detail from each sensation seems heightened. Good. “Bark.”
He lets out a woof.
“Lick my foot.”
He pauses, as if debating on whether that’s a good idea or not. It isn’t. There’s every possibility I could kick him in the face when he bends down.
“Obey your Madame, Animal, or you will not get to smell it.”
Christopher cautiously leans down and licks the top of my foot.
Trust has just been semi-established.
“You drugged the flowers.”
He nods.
“Did you know they could kill me?”
He nods.
“Did you want me dead?”
It takes him a few seconds to answer. Finally, he shakes his head.
“You saved me. Why?”
He doesn’t respond.
I take a small step to the left, which puts him on alert. “Would you like a reward for saving me, Animal?”
He tips his head to the side as if silently asking, What kind of reward ?
I take another step, and he pivots with me.
I’ve got one fucking shot at this. I can’t mess it up. All the training I’ve had with Dmitri and the guys, in one form or another, distills into this one. Fucking. Moment.
“Crawl to me, Animal. Smell what you made me do. You’ve earned it.”
He pitches forward and crawls on his hands and knees towards me, untrusting but too desperate to stay away. I let him shove his nose into my crotch and inhale deeply.
“Your dress is still wet,” he groans, taking another inhale of the urine-soaked fabric.
I knee him in the chin, snapping his head back and making him topple backwards. Raising my hands over my head, I thrust them downwards, breaking through the zip tie, and free myself.
Two steps are all I get before he tackles me to the ground.
I claw at the carpet, kicking out like a madwoman.
He hits the back of my head but misses the mark that would have knocked me out.
I scream and squirm away, scrambling for the dog cage.
Gripping the bars, I throw it at him and race to the kitchen door next.
The deadbolt frees but the door won’t open.
Shit! There’s a padlock at the top!
Christopher slams into me. I scream as he spins me around and tosses me against the counter. Pain explodes in my ribs, stealing my breath. I grasp for anything to use as a weapon. There’s no knife. No appliance. There’s nothing I can use to protect myself with.
Before he can snatch me again, I run to the front door.
He’s playing with me, I realize. He’s not chasing after me at all.
And this door is padlocked, too.
I’m locked in a massive cage with a psychopath.