Something Red

Part Ten

Her body is mine and I'm the one making these sounds somewhere in my head.

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Arlo settles me in a huge room upstairs for the night and he doesn't leave any room for conversation after he leaves me there so I don't bother to talk to him. I'm going home tomorrow.

I check the time on my phone and its 11:59 PM a minute to mid-night. Just great. I sit on the edge of the queen sized water bed by the wall, absent-mindedly kicking my converses off and shuffling my feet in the rug as I scroll through my text messages. It doesn't feel like the one at home but it's soft.

There are messages from Dylan, he's the only one who texts me. It's starting to seem like he's the only one on my contact list. I think about telling him about Arlo taking me home but I decide against it. Arlo is literally his best friend, he wouldn't think I was in danger and neither should I but I don't trust anyone and I don't need anyone either so I won't tell him anything.

I wonder absent-mindedly if the room has cameras hidden and I scoff, shrugging off my coat and pad into what I assume should be a bathroom with the clothes I was given.

After a quick shower that comprised mostly of thinking of possible case scenarios of what could have happened when I got into Arlo's car and what could possibly happen while I spend the night here. Most of these are over imaginative and inappropriate and thus I hurry out of the shower before I lose my mind.

I crawl into the soft bed and under the covers which are nothing like mine. It's too late for dinner I suppose wondering about Arlo's lack of manners to offer his prisoner some food. I roll my eyes, staring at nothing in the dimly lit room as I wait for sleep. I close my eyes hoping to sleep faster but that doesn't work so I just lay there motionless and force my mind to remain free of thoughts. Wish I was back home so I could blast music through my ap system. The music helps me sleep and now I find myself hating my captor.

I waft in and out of sleep a few times before I wake up with a patched throat and I scamper out of bed, groping my way out of the room, along the hallway and down the stairs as silently as I can remembering where I am. He has to have a fridge or water dispenser somewhere around here.

As I descend the marble winding stairs I hear it. It sounds like a whimper but the closer I get I realize it's not, it's deeper and needier- desperate. It's a moan. I reach the bottom of the stairs and just stand there, glued to the spot as I grip the bannister.

I can only make out shadowy silhouettes on the leather sofa which faces the wall of ceiling-to-floor glass windows illuminated only by the lights from the pool, out back.

I hear the sounds more vividly now as I stand there making sense of what I'm witnessing. There's a woman here and she's making a racket with her shameless cries of what I assume is pleasure. Her head is thrown back and Nars has his face in the crook of her neck, doing lord knows what that's making her so noisy.

I shouldn't be watching this, it's wrong and not to mention should be disgusting to me but I'm transfixed for some strange reason and I don't feel so thirsty anymore. I can see his hands moving along her body from here through the reflection of the glass and it's hypnotic. I stare following their movements. It's almost like only his hands are there and she doesn't exist, like I can even feel them. Her body is mine and I'm the one making these sounds somewhere in my head.

My eyes trail up his hands, her sides and her pale back till where her neck meets her right shoulder and I see thin red liquid trails, stark against her flesh, running down slowly. My brows furrow and my heart flutters as I recognize the liquid. My eyes dart to Nars' and I find myself staring into something red.

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