Moriarty's Musician

Purging the Demons, Part 12

Annabelle wasn't certain how long she cried. It could have been a few minutes or much longer. Exhausted, she lifted her head from her knees and looked down at her bandaged wrists. Pulling the binding back a little, she could see the raw wounds from the handcuffs that had encircled her hands. Nicholas was the one who had carefully bandaged them for her. She rubbed her sore eyes and tried to think.

Everything she thought was the truth, in reality, seemed to be the exact opposite. But what if she pretended Nicholas wasn't as bad as she thought? She had to get away, that was undeniable. But what if she tried to be accepting of this situation until she discovered her chance to escape? What if she played the part he wanted?

The more she fought him, the more she knew he would tighten his grip. She didn't need that. She needed him to loosen his hold so she could quietly slip through his fingers.

On wobbly knees, Annabelle stood and looked around the small bathroom, her eyes falling on the shower. Oh, how she would love to feel the heat of a shower right now. But as she searched the small space, soap was nowhere to be found. Sighing, she leaned her hands on the sink and gazed into the mirror. She cringed at how wretched she looked. Her long hair was disheveled, her face was red, and her eyes were bloodshot and swollen from crying. She looked horrible. This wouldn't do. She needed to be strong and pull herself together if she was going to get away from Nicholas.

She opened the bathroom door and as quietly as she could, made her way to the small bedroom Nicholas had said was hers. She bit her lip as she stood at the door and glanced around. Like the bathroom, the room was sparse and very small with a single bed in the corner and a dusty nightstand beside it. Approaching the bed, Annabelle touched the dirty mattress and grimaced at the thought of sleeping on it. Surely, the mattress had been salvaged from the junkyard.

"So what do you think of your new accommodations?"

Annabelle swung around to see Nicholas leaning against the door, smiling at her. She wanted to scream at him, but she did her best to keep up with her facade. 

She took a deep breath. "I think you obviously didn't plan for my being here, Nicholas."

His eyebrows drew together. "Why would you say that? Of course, I planned it. I've had it planned for a bloody year, Annie. Every single time you rejected me, I planned for you to be with me."

As he approached her, Annabelle could see the veiled fury starting to rumble in his eyes. She clutched her hands together. Be strong. Be strong. She tried to keep her voice even as her insides heaved. 

"I just meant this room looks like it hasn't been lived in for a while and the mattress– "

"You were the one who didn't want to sleep in my bed." 

His eyes gleamed as he took her hand and pulled her down the hall to the master bedroom. A huge bed stood in the middle of the room, complete with thick, lavish blankets. The beautiful mahogany furniture was expertly positioned around the space and a fire roared in the cottage's second fireplace that framed one of the walls. Nicholas smiled at Annabelle's wide eyes.

"You can always sleep in here with me, Annie. Would you like to change your mind?"

She'd rather die. Annabelle bit her lip again, trying to remain composed. "The other room will be fine." She swallowed down the bile making its way up her throat. "But if you could at least give me a few blankets and a pillow, I'd appreciate it. I am your fiancée."

Annabelle watched the corners of his mouth curl. "Alright." He walked to the giant bed, pulled off a blanket and pillow and handed it to her. "I wouldn't want my fiancée getting sick before our wedding night."

Annabelle gritted her teeth and took his offering. Steadying her breath, she plunged ahead. "I also need some toiletries. Soap, shampoo, toothbrush, toothpaste."

Nicholas strode over to the closet and withdrew a box. He brought it over to her and tilted it so she could see the contents. It was filled with all the toiletries she would need to make her stay somewhat tolerable.

"Thank you." Annabelle reached for it, but Nicholas turned with the box, as the teasing smile remained on his face. Annabelle shifted the blanket and pillow in her arms. Now, what was he doing?

"If I give you this box, Annie, I need you to give me something in return."

Annabelle's eyebrows snapped together, and dread started to fill her chest. Before he even spoke the words, she knew what he was going to say.

"I want you to kiss me like you kissed Moriarty," excitement filled his eyes, "Exactly the way you kissed him in the library."

Annabelle's eyes glistened with newfound tears. She closed her eyes and shook her head, willing them to go away. "I can't, Nicholas."

His eyes never left her face. "Yes, you can, or the box goes back into my closet."

Annabelle's hands were now tight fists at her side. Be strong. Be strong. This is only a mask you're wearing. 

She took a breath to steel her nerves and calmly set the pillow and blanket back down on the bed. Slowly she walked over to where Nicholas stood. Her eyes didn't leave his as she took the box from his hand and set it down on the dresser. She turned back to him, her hand shaking as she touched his neck. Nicholas's eyes were shining with desire as he stared at her quivering lips. 

Standing on her tippy-toes, Annabelle pressed her lips to his, and before she could make a move to lengthen the kiss, he was already hungrily devouring her mouth.

The feel of his hot mouth moving over hers was enough to make Annabelle want to gag. She couldn't stand it any longer and pushed his chest, but he continued to kiss her deeply, his arms a vice grip around her. She could taste his blood from when he had tried to kiss her earlier.

She turned her head and found new energy to set her hands between them and push off his chest. Nicholas stopped kissing her and chuckled as he watched her back up from him. He turned and picked up the box, setting it beside the pillow and blanket.

"Good girl. That's the spirit." His eyes roamed over her body. "I can't wait until our wedding night. I'll be enjoying those kisses and so much more," he emphasized with a chuckle.

Annabelle couldn't help but stare at him in horror.

"Now, go along. I have to finish dinner while you clean yourself up." Nicholas turned on his heel and went back to the kitchen.

Annabelle slowly gathered her items and took them back to her room. As she went to the washroom, she locked the door behind her and gazed again into the mirror. There was only one person on her mind as she stared back at her reflection. She desperately needed him and prayed he'd find her soon.

~~~~~~~
As always, thank you for reading. I'd love to hear what you think. Please let me know with a comment and I'd so appreciate your vote. Take care!