Unlovable

Chapter 31

It was 7:00 a.m. Darcie had been home for a little over six hours and had yet to move off her spot on the blue velvet couch. Her mind was numb, her body was sore, and all she could think about were ways to escape again.

Harold sat next to her, quietly sipping his coffee. She barely had a chance to breathe without him glaring at her. He had stayed with her the entire time, never leaving the confines of the living room, kitchen or bathroom. He had yet to remove his gun from his belt. She glanced at it from time to time, wondering if he would really use it on her.

She didn't like her odds.

"I've arranged a press conference for five o'clock this evening," he said as he absently scanned an old magazine. "It's some mess you made here, Darcie. I have cops on my ass and reporters around every corner."

She chuckled and he looked at her, shocked she uttered a sound.

"Something funny about this?"

"You brought it on yourself. No one said you had to get anyone involved in all of this, Harold. You chose to."

He reached out quickly and smacked her across the face. Her head zipped to the side and she licked the blood away from the reopened wound on the side of her lip.

Harold cleared his throat and continued.

"As I was saying, I told the boys at the station to give you some time to clear your head before they came around asking questions. While we both know I don't give a damn how your head is, I need you to know exactly what I expect you to say."

Darcie looked down at her hands in her lap.

"Do you hear me?"

Darcie said nothing.

Reaching out, Harold pulled her head around to face him, her chin caught between the rough fingers of his hand.

"Look at me when I talk to you, you ungrateful bitch."

Her eyes met his and held. Her eyes shot off infuriated fire. If looks really could kill, he would be dead. .

"When they get here," he spat at her "You tell them his name, do you understand?"

She glared at him.

"You tell them he took you from your car after you got groceries, and drove you to his home in Virginia. He forced you to stay there, he abused you, he degraded you. Do you fucking hear me?" he asked raising a fist at her.

Quickly, to avoid the blow, Darcie nodded.

Harold let his hand fall to his side. He sighed as he dropped the magazine to the table.

"Why do you make me do this to you? Why can't you just listen, Darcie. Why couldn't you have just obeyed?"

She said nothing.

He brought his fingers to her lips slowly, wiping away the thin line of blood from her mouth before bringing his soiled fingers to his mouth and sucking on them. Darcie pulled back, disgusted.

"Shh," he whispered as he brought himself closer to her. "You're so beautiful. That was why I fell in love with you," he said slowly as he continued to wipe the blood from her lips.

She quivered under his touch, shook at the soft tone of his voice.

"It makes me crazy to think of someone else with their hands on you."

Leaning forward, he kissed her softly. She was unresponsive. He growled and threw her back against the couch.

"Most women would kill for what I've given you," he said with a grin on his face as he crawled on top of her. He kissed her neck softly and nipped at her ear. She wanted to curl up and cry as her body began to shake in fear.

"The house," he kissed her cheek. "The car," he kissed her chin. "The clothes and the security," he kissed her mouth again.

She bit him. He pulled back and put his hand to her throat.

"Did you appreciate any of it?" he asked as she gasped for air. "No, you didn't. You ran away like a spoiled brat and made all this damn trouble for me. You stole from me and disappeared. No bye. See ya' later. Kiss my ass. NOTHING!" he screamed at her.

Quickly, he released her neck and she grasped for it, grateful for the air. Reaching out, he ran a soft finger down her cheek. She cringed at the continued physical contact.

"Should I take everything away, Darcie?" he asked softly.

Darcie clenched her eyes closed. He was way too close for comfort, his large body lingering over hers. She could smell the coffee on his breath and it nauseated her.

"Should I strip you of everything? Treat you like the bitch you are?" he asked, leaning down to whisper it in her ear.

In a sudden angry movement, he grasped the back of her head. Her eyes flew open to meet his.

"If you aren't going to answer me when I talk to you, the least you can do is look at me," he said through gritted teeth.

Darcie clenched her eyes closed again, and still said nothing. Angrily, Harold released her head and she let it fall back.

"I have a run to make," he said as he stood up. "Can I trust you here alone?"

He glared down at her, waiting for an answer he never received. He sighed, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out the pair of cuffs that Darcie now knew all too well. He attached one to her wrist and the other to the door of a heavy, antique hutch. He lowered himself to whisper in her ear. "All dogs get locked up in my house."

She kept her eyes closed until she heard the door shut behind Harold.

Darcie struggled with the cuffs awhile, trying to get her wrist out of the bondage. After an hour of helpless struggle, she had no choice but to give up. Her wrist was raw and burning thoroughly. The pain became much too intense. Her eyes were heavy, scorching and swollen from the tears she had cried.

She only planned on closing them a moment, just to regain her strength so she could try to escape again. Fatigue got the best of her and once they closed they didn't reopen until her body had gotten enough rest.

*~*~*