A Debt To Pay

6

I must've sat for an hour, silently hating Logan, watching him as he read through pages and pages of writing, signing off on documents and typing on his computer every now and then.

Finally, he placed down the papers and looked over to me. I kept my gaze fixated on the wooden panels covering the floor, desperately trying to ignore the feeling of his eyes burning holes in the side of my head.

"Mia." His voice was so deep and husky and I couldn't help but shudder at the way my name tumbled from his lips.

Still, I kept my eyes locked on the ground, not daring to look into his stormy, dark eyes in fear that I might drown in them. "Mia," he repeated, his tone more clipped.

I swallowed down the cluster of nerves that were stewing in the back of my throat and steadied my breathing. "What?" I asked absentmindedly. Still, I refused to meet his arctic gaze and admired the detailed pattern on the wooden floor.

"I was just trying to decide what to do with you, lock you up? Kill you? Send you into the prostitution business? Sell you to the highest bidder? So many options," he hummed.

My head whipped up to see his dark eyes narrowed at me menacingly. "What!" My tone was a mixture of panic and fury as he, ever so slowly, raised a perfect eyebrow.

"Now I have your attention, come here." He motioned over to him with a curl of his finger and I hesitated before freezing beneath his icy glare. Reluctantly, I moved closer to him, leaving the comfort of the armchair and allowing myself to be exposed in the large, silent room while this powerful man's eyes watched my every move.

I stopped at a fair distance from where he sat back in the large desk chair and held my breath as I waited. "I don't repeat myself Mia," Logan told me and, with another violent swallow, I continued to approach him until I stood directly in front of him.

"You're not actually going to force me to be a prostitute, are you?" I asked him in a soft voice while simultaneously raising my head bravely to meet his intense gaze.

He studied me momentarily before answering. "I don't know what to do with you. Tell me, what do you think?" He arched one of his perfect eyebrows and patiently waited for my answer.

"Well... I was thinking something along the lines of letting me go home and continuing our lives as if we'd never met." I shrugged.

"When I pay for something, I don't tend to just let it go," he told me and I could feel the anger stirring inside me.

"I'm not property!" I snapped.

"Is that so?" His eyes narrowed.

"Yes! It is so! You have plenty of money! You didn't need the money from the drug shipment and it wasn't my father's fault that someone stole from him so why don't you go after the thief who currently has your money's worth of drugs!" I raised my voice - against my better judgement - feeling furious that he would refer to me like I was just another piece of furniture he picked up at the store.

Agonisingly slowly, he raised from his chair so he was towering over me, making me feel smaller than I ever had. Beside his large, bulky frame, I looked like a mere child, barely reaching his shoulders with my small stature. He leant forward so our eyes were level and somehow, that made him even more intimidating.

"Don't ever raise your voice to me." Each word rolled off his tongue so threateningly slow, leaving a heavy weight to settle in my stomach.

Two cold, steel eyes held me captive and shivers ran up and down my spine at the anger that flashed through them like lightening across a storm filled sky. From the corner of my eye, I watched his arm dart out to the side and my heart clenched as I remembered the gun on his desk.

This was it. He was going to kill me.

His arm pulled back slowly and he was suddenly thrusting a plastic bag into my hands. "You will pay for that later, for now, put that on. I will be back in two minutes." I clung to the bag tightly as he agonisingly slowly raised back to his full height. With the threat of punishment hanging in the air and a cold fear settling in my chest, I nodded silently as he picked up his phone and left the room.

I opened the bag carefully to reveal a bundle of white material. I drew my eyebrows together and gingerly pulled it out to reveal a partially see-through, lacy lingerie piece. I scoffed, dropping it back into the bag with absolutely no intention of giving him any kind of show.

I turned my nose up in disgust, waiting impatiently for him to return so I could tell him exactly what I thought of the attire and precisely where he could shove it.

However, as I thought it over, I began to think of the consequences I would face if I did lash out. I thought about his previous statement and the options he presented about my future. I was torn between knowing he was already pissed off and not wanting to anger him more and thinking he was already pissed off so what's one more reason to add to the list.

Eventually, I sighed, knowing that it was likely he would force me to wear it if I didn't put it on now and he possibly wouldn't leave the room when he did. So, begrudgingly, I changed into the slutty lingerie and crossed my arms to hide the large portion of cleavage that was showing.

As soon as I did, the door creaked open and I jumped around to see Logans eyes raking over my body. Blush fanned across my cheeks and the tips of my ears at his intense gaze and I felt like an entire cage of butterflies escaped into my stomach.

"Why the hell did you want me to wear this?" I growled, shivering as the cold air blew over me.

"You know, you seem to forget the rules a lot. You respect me Mia, which means you ought to lose your attitude and stop with the sarcasm because you will find your fate to be much less pleasant otherwise." His words rang clear in my mind. He could make this so much worse. Right now, I had a bed and a room and food and some extremely revealing clothes - this entire experience could easily be made ten times worse.

And yet, I found myself irritated and answering back. "Somehow, I imagine it will be rather unpleasant no matter how much - or rather how little - I respect you." I smiled sarcastically for good measure.

A few long strides and he was towering over me once again. His tall, bulky figure emphasising just how small and slender I really was, especially wearing so little. The scowl on his face displayed every emotion he was feeling and I was sure my own expression showed the regret and fear I was feeling.

"You've had enough warnings. It seems you need to be taught how to behave," his voice boomed. I could practically feel the small thread that was holding him back snapping and that sent waves of dread crashing through me.

One of his large hands curled tightly around my forearm, crushing my bone from his strong grip. I gulped, feeling every ounce of confidence oozing from my body and being replaced with cold dread.

With one strong tug, I was stumbling through the room after Logan. "Wait! Where are we going?" Panic consumed me as I recalled the number of guards in the house and the lack of clothes covering my body.

"Not a single word," he growled, swinging the double doors open and leading me violently into the hallway.

"Logan, stop!" I called, tripping down the stairs in an attempt to keep up with his long, fast strides.

Obviously, he didn't slow his pace. In fact, I was pretty sure he sped up further and soon I was being dragged through the huge, modern kitchen and through a door that led to a dark, dingy basement.

A loud, deep, pained scream echoed through the darkness as the door behind us slammed closed. We were plunged into blackness and my stomach somersaulted in my abdomen as he forced me further towards my doom.