Page 8 of Unbinding the Demon

Bright rays of morning sun streamed through the windows and kissed my face with their warming glow. The soft coos of mourning doves echoed through the room and filled my soul with a peaceful sense of joy. I sleepily smiled and stretched in the big comfy bed, enjoying that blissful feeling that only came the morning after being thoroughly fucked. I knew it had only been a dream, but wow, did it feel real. My eyes softly fluttered open... and then they widened in horror!

Oh no! No, no, please, no!

Quick as a flash, I jolted upright and glanced around the large antiqued bedroom, eyes crazed and hair wildly disheveled. My hands trembled with panic as I ripped the velvet coverlet off my body. Then my face contorted in sheer terror at the sight of what lay underneath. I was wearing only a large black T-shirt—Ashton’s large black T-shirt. Memories from the previous night came flooding back into my mind like the tidal waves of Armageddon.

Going to the party. The murder. Getting kidnapped by Ashton... Oh my god! I gnawed on his arm and tried to finger myself in the bathtub while he was sitting right there!

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

I couldn’t tell which was stronger, the fear of being abducted by a killer or the crippling embarrassment. Quiet as could be, I climbed out of the bed and tiptoed to the window, hoping that I might climb out unnoticed. I peered beyond the diamond-paned glass, finding a small lake sparkling in the distance. It was draped in a blanket of thin mist and hidden just beyond a few gigantic oaks and yellowing birches that lined the edge of the huge overgrown yard. A scenic mountain range towered off in the distance, with more mist gently tumbling down its slopes.

There was a young maple tree standing closer to the house. The puffed-out grey chests of the little doves I’d heard while waking up were perched within its branches. I smiled at how cute they looked. They were still happily cooing and basking in the misty rays of sunshine that gleamed in between the leaves. My gaze then dropped to the ground below, and so did my smile. I was dauntingly high up with nothing to even consider climbing down with.

Shit.

Having no choice but to sneak out the front door, I began creeping across the room. The bedroom door was already open, no doubt so Ashton could monitor me as I slept. I peeked down the hallway and over the railing that overlooked the foyer. I had to get the hell out of this place before he realized I was awake, or else I very well could get murdered, too. There was no sign of him, so I held my breath and very

quietly continued to tiptoe over to the large staircase.

The old floorboards creaked in protest every now and then, causing me to flinch each time. I rounded the railing and descended the large curved stairs, taking one slow step at a time. My heart was pounding so painfully fast that I thought it might explode in my chest. Once I was halfway down, I could hear Ashton rummaging around in the kitchen. I eyed the front door and gulped. My foot carefully landed on the last step, and I knew that the moment had come. I had to make a run for it. There was no chance to be stealthy beyond this point. He would see me through the kitchen archway and hear the door as I made my mad dash. I was going to have to stay in a dead sprint once I got outside if I had any chance of escape.

Alright, here goes nothing. Deep breaths... 3...2...1...

“Woof, woof.”

Fuck, I’m dead.

Belzar came rushing out of the kitchen, greeting me with enthusiasm. His big bushy black tail wagged with joy as he barked and jumped up to lick my cheeks. I let out a small scream and flinched away, trying to keep his massive teeth away from my face. If he were any other dog, I would have easily recognized that he was just happy to see me, but I was highly intimidated by his wolf-like appearance.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Ashton smiled with pleasure as he came into view from around the corner. He was still wearing only black sweatpants, but his long thick hair was now tied back in a neat braid. “Belzar, get down. You’re making her nervous.” The dog obeyed, stepping back with a soft whimper.

My face paled and my heart raced. I stood paralyzed, staring at him with wide eyes like a child who’d just been caught stealing a candy bar. Did he not notice that I was trying to escape? “Oh, um, good morning, Ashton. Thanks for letting me crash at your place.” I pointed to the door and took a few steps toward it. “I’m just gonna leave now.”

“Oh no, you’re not.” He placed his hand on my back gently and began to lead me into the kitchen. “How could I let you leave so soon when I’ve already made breakfast for you?”

“No, really, I should get going.” I hesitantly turned into the kitchen with him, ignoring how good the contact of his warm hand felt on my back.

My eyes were still wide, and my anxiety was through the roof. The kitchen was ancient, as I expected. There was peeling light green wallpaper, outdated appliances, and an original stone floor. The mess on the counters and stovetop suggested this guy hadn’t cooked a day in his life. Dirty pots and pans were stacked and strewn about, and just about every kind of utensil had been used. I was even suspicious that he had been trying to flip eggs with a butter knife. Hell, I wouldn’t have been shocked to find a shoe in the oven.

However, in the corner of the room, next to a large, paned window, was a picture-perfect breakfast set up on an antique dining table. There were scrambled eggs, home fries, roasted veggies, toast, and even a fruit bowl. Gentle rays of the morning sun were cast over the scene, making it look welcoming and quaint. A vase of freshly picked wildflowers rested in the center of the table, completing the charming look.

“I hope you like it,” he said while shuffling me over to the table.

“Wow, thank you.” I sat down on one of the cute wooden chairs, then he pushed it in for me. “It looks great.”

Fucking hell, I’m a hostage now...

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, I did, actually.” I warily eyed him as he placed a fancy plate on the table and then began filling it with food. “The bed was really comfortable.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he smiled while turning to grab something from the cabinet.

“I noticed you have some unique taste in furniture,” I mentioned as I slid my finger along the edge of the antique table, trying not to gawk at his perfect figure when he wasn’t looking.

“Not exactly. All of this stuff was already here when I found the place. I just commandeered it, that’s all.” He laughed as he poured some hot water into a floral-printed teacup. “Here, have some tea. You like this kind, don’t you?” He handed me the teacup with an endearing smile.

I took it from him and gave it a sniff. It was Earl Grey, the same type of tea that’s used in London fogs. “Yeah, I do,” I responded with suspicion. The gears in my head were turning as I tried to figure out how he might have known what I was drinking at the café. I couldn’t come up with anything, which unsettled me a bit, but I gave it a small sip anyway. He turned back around, and I quickly took a bite of food to distract myself from leering at him again.

“Oh my gosh! This is delicious!” I exclaimed in surprise and began gobbling it down. It honestly was downright scrumptious, and I realized I was starving. Everything was cooked and seasoned to perfection.

“Thank you.” He sat down next to me with his own cup of tea, watching in satisfaction as I continued to stuff my face. The utensils clinked as he served himself a plate. He glanced at his fork and then took a wary bite, as though he wasn’t sure what to expect. Then his eyes widened, and he began stuffing his face just as voraciously as I was.

As my gluttonizing slowed down, I noticed how strangely raised and rough his tattoo looked up close and in the sunlight. It really seemed like black ink had been injected straight into his veins. It webbed out from a solid jagged black spot on his shoulder, down his arm a bit, onto his chest and back, and crept up the side of his neck some. It was extremely intricate and different from any other tattoo I had ever seen.

The pitter-pattering of large paws echoed across the room as Belzar walked over. He circled around a few times and then plopped down next to the table while letting out a cute puppy-dog whine. There was something off about him, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I felt kind of like an asshole, but the dog was unsettling. “What kind of dog is he?” I asked with genuine curiosity while studying his big yellow eyes and fluffy black fur. “He kinda looks like a wolf.”

“He’s an exotic breed,” Ashton shrugged and didn’t elaborate.

Okay... So yeah, he’s probably a wolf.

An awkward moment stretched between us as I apathetically stabbed at a floppy piece of cooked spinach with my fork. Ashton’s psychotic gaze never wavered from me as he sipped his tea. A smile was on his lips, but something devious lingered in his eyes. “So, if you don’t mind my asking, what are you planning to do with me now?” I asked, trying to seem nonchalant— I wasn’t.

“Obviously, I’m going to take you home.” He took another sip of tea. “Why? What did you think I was planning to do?” He raised a curious brow, and the corner of his mouth curved up.

“Oh, well, I don’t know, chop me up into pieces or maybe lock me away in your secret sex dungeon? I mean, I did just witness you murdering a guy after all!” I probably shouldn’t have said that... A crooked grin stretched across his face the moment I mentioned a secret sex dungeon.

“How do you know I’m not going straight to the police after this?” Okay, I really shouldn’t have said that...

“Oh, you won’t be going to the police.” He sounded sure of himself, amusement twinkling in his golden eyes.

“And what makes you so sure of that?” I stuffed several pieces of fruit into my mouth to shut myself up.

“Well, that would be rather foolish of you.” I eyed him with my cheeks still stuffed full of fruit as he continued to elaborate. “How do you think the police will respond when they find out you led that roach up to the bedroom where I was waiting to murder him, and then fled the scene with me? It seems more likely that this was a two-person job. Don’t you agree?” He devilishly smirked. “And not to mention that we were seen together earlier that day at the café, and witnesses were made well aware that it wasn’t a romantic meeting... Perhaps we were plotting to kill someone?” He tapped his chin as though in thought.

Painfully, I swallowed the last chunk of fruit. “Wait? Are you blackmailing me!? That’s not what happened at all! I’m completely innocent here, and you know it!” I pointed at him, my frustration evident. Anxiety swirled in my gut, though I tried to hide it. There was nothing I could do to clear my name. I was going to have to play along with his little scheme. “Besides, what’s your grand plan gonna be when they start investigating the crime scene?”

“There is no crime scene. I took care of it and I assure you, no one will ever find any trace of that lecherous scum.” He sipped his tea casually like we had been talking about the weather. “And don’t worry, you have nothing to be fearful of from now on, so long as we have one another’s backs.” He reached over to pat my hand. I didn’t respond, too stunned by how nonchalant he was about killing a guy. He didn’t have a single shred of remorse. “So, it’s settled then. We’re now officially partners in crime.” He waved his cup upward with a beaming smile.

I can’t fucking believe this guy...

I wanted nothing more than to go straight to the police and turn this mental case in. But the possibility of them assuming I was an accomplice guaranteed I would never do that. I couldn’t risk it despite being innocent. It just wasn’t worth possibly going to prison for life. “Okay, partner, so now what should we do?” I begrudgingly asked, while looking down at my empty plate.

“We should go on a date.” He didn’t miss a beat.

“Um, no,” I replied a little too quickly.

“Oh, and why not? I think we’d be very well-suited for each other.”

“Very well suited? How can you claim that when you don’t even know me? You don’t know my favorite color, or anything else about me for that matter!” I waved my hand in exasperation.

He tilted his head to the side as if inspecting my face. “Is your favorite color red?”

I squished my lips into an annoyed straight line. “That was just a lucky guess. Plus, judging by the way you dress, I could easily guess that yours is black.” I pointed up and down at his physique, emphasizing its godlike qualities in a mocking manner.

Another wide grin stretched across his face. “You’re correct. You see, we are well-suited for each other after all. And maybe I’d like the chance to get to know you better.” His gaze lingered on my body, and then he leaned closer, his face mere inches from the side of mine. “Listen, Buttercup, I find you very beautiful, and I know the attraction is mutual.”

“No, it’s not,” I lied.

“Don’t lie. I can see it burning within your eyes and by the way your body reacts around mine. I can smell it even .” My eyes bugged out as he boldly sniffed my hair... What the hell? “With this level of attraction between us, just imagine all the hot, passionate sex we could have. Who knows, I might even tie you up in that secret sex dungeon you spoke of,” he murmured with a shrug.

“Yeah, well, I don’t date blackmailing, murderous kidnappers. So please, just take me home already,” I demanded while leaning away from his lecherous advances, ignoring the way my loins roared to life like a wildfire after a drought. The memory of my erotic dreams flooded my mind as though my brain had turned against me.

“Alright, as you wish.” He stood up and grabbed the plates, bringing them over to the already crammed sink. “I’ll go put a shirt on, then we’ll leave. But don’t think I’m going to drop this matter so easily.”

I looked down at myself, remembering that I was still wearing his shirt—and only his shirt. “Um, where are my clothes?” I made my gentle inquiry before he could slip out of the room.

“They’re on the table next to the front door. Unfortunately, they didn’t dry very well and they’re still filthy. Feel free to keep the shirt you have on, though.”

“Okay, thanks. But I have nothing on under this?” A helpless expression found its way onto my face as I glanced down at the shirt.

“Yes, I’m very aware of that. I’ll get you something to put on under it.” He winked and walked away, his demeanor suggestive.

The sound of his heavy footsteps ascending the stairs echoed through the old house. I stood up and awkwardly waited for his return. A small spider crawling around a dusty cobweb in the corner caught my eye. It really seemed like this was some random old abandoned house he had whooshed me away to in order to murder me. Once he reappeared, he handed me a pair of large, black boxer briefs with an amused smile. I swiped them out of his hand with a scowl.

“These better be clean,” I grumbled and slipped them on. They were rather big, so I had to roll them up at the base a few times, and even so, they were loose.

The entire ride home was filled with never-ending flirtatious advances, all of which I shot down despite how hot and bothered he was making me. I didn’t understand how a simple car ride with the guy could have me feeling like I’d just endured hours of foreplay; yet there I was, with rock-hard nipples and a throbbing pussy. Relief bloomed in my heart when we finally pulled into my driveway. I tried to give him the slip by jumping out of the car as quickly as I could, but he grabbed my arm just in time.

“Remember, we’re partners in crime now, so I’m here for you if you ever need anything,” he said while looking into my eyes with his mesmerizing gaze.

Right.” I drawled while shifting my eyes away from his.

“Really, I mean it. You can trust me with anything. I want you to trust me.” He leaned over, lightly kissed my forehead, and then let go of my arm. “I’ll see you soon, Buttercup.” He smiled with the type of smile that one would expect from a loving husband.

“Well, uh, goodbye.” I waved and then darted straight for the house, not once looking back.