Twisted: A Dark Romance (Barrowlands Book 1) Page 4

  “And if I go with you? How do I know you won’t just sell me to them? They’re your associates.”

  The masked man laughs at that, as if the notion is ridiculous. “You seem frightfully unaware of the difference between an associate and someone I give two fucks about. Why would I sell you to them? There is money to be made in this world at every turn, but there is only one of you.”

  “What will you do with me?”

  The man shakes his head. “Your incessant questions are boring me. I’ve tried to indulge you, now it is time for you to indulge me.” He snaps the words, his mood flipping so quickly it has me backing away on the bed instinctively. “Come.”

  “No.” I shake my head.

  He looks up at the sky. “Oh, my sweet girl. That was the wrong answer.”

  One, two large steps and he’s at the end of the bed, towering above me like a demon from hell.

  I scuttle back, but before I can get over the pillows his hands grip my ankles and he drags me down toward him in one quick motion.

  He holds me still while he mounts me and I inhale a sharp breath.

  The knife is still in my hand, and I’m caught between pulling it toward my neck or pushing it toward his.

  But he has no visible neck, not with that mask and the way he’s staring down at me.

  His hand grips my wrist and squeezes so tight I think the bones will snap. “Drop it,” he orders.

  No. I can’t. That knife is my only way out.

  He sighs and rests his forearm across my neck, cutting off my air instantly. Bringing my hand up, he now uses both of his own to prize the blade out of my fingers before launching it across the room.

  When he lifts his arm I gasp for air, only to have it pushed out of me as he lowers his weight down hard on my chest.

  Between the stiff bones of the corset and the cage he has made for me, every breath is only a fraction of what my body needs.

  He smells like diesel and something else. Something I haven’t smelled before. I’ve never been this close to a man to learn the intricacies of how they smell. Ruby would probably know, but I might never see her again to ask her. The thought of that sends a chill right through me.

  “See? Now look what you’ve done.” I feel his laughter in my chest as he shakes above me. “You should have come with me willingly.”

  I want to tell him to go and fuck himself, but I can barely breathe.

  “You asked me who I was, and I’m quite ashamed to say I lied,” he says with a chuckle. “Now normally, I detest lies. But it was worth it to see the confusion written across your face.”

  I stare up at him, probably looking just as confused now as I did then.

  “What do you want with me?” I grit out.

  He lowers his head, pressing the cold metal of his mask down on my forehead. “That, my dear, is a silly question from a silly girl.”

  “Why?”

  He laughs again, as if there is some big joke and I’m not in on it. “Because you… you will not like my answer, and your only means of avoidance is now lying on the floor some distance away.”

  I don’t know if it’s his words or the lack of oxygen, but I feel dizzy. The room is spinning around me, the only constant the cool press of metal and the diesel smell cloying to the back of my throat.

  Maybe he’s right.

  Maybe I don’t want to know.

  Perhaps that would be for the best. That’s always been my way of dealing with everything. The less you know, the less you can worry.

  But the harsh lesson I learned tonight is that my naivety is my biggest weakness.

  I wanted to believe Maxim wouldn’t hurt me. I wanted to believe I was special. I wanted to believe one of those four suited men would be the one to buy me.

  As much as I hated the thought of that, I hadn’t even considered the man whose weight crushes me into the pillows right now.

  And I didn’t consider it because I was naive.

  I have never met this man in my life, but now I know exactly what he is.

  I was wrong in my assumptions. He isn’t the hired help. He isn’t the translator. Ruby told me about men like him before, years ago, but I didn’t connect the dots until this very moment.

  The crazies, that’s what Ruby called them.

  Everyone who comes here is more than a little fucked up. That’s just the way things are now. That is normal. But there are certain people who would have been fucked up even if the world hadn’t gone to shit, and now that it has, they revel in it. Those are the ones Ruby calls the crazies.

  And even girls like Ruby, girls who are up for anything, do everything possible to avoid garnering their attention.

  “Tell me,” I beg him.

  I’m done being naive. It only prolongs the inevitable suffering that’s going to come anyway.

  He leans back, removing the metal mask from my forehead.

  “No,” he says. “No. I think it will be more fun for you if I don’t. I like games.”

  Games.

  My stomach rolls.

  I try to slide my wrists out of his grip, but he’s like a vise. Legs. I manage to shift one of them out from underneath him and hook it around his body, slamming my ankle down into his back.

  The movement has him shifting, and I take the opportunity to try my wrists again.

  He lets out a sigh, and the pair of us struggle with each other until he gets me pinned down again, arms extended above my head.

  “I found your resistance quite endearing earlier, but I am quickly becoming bored with it,” he says, staring me down.

  I try to catch my breath and flinch when the rough fabric of his trousers rubs against the wound on my inner thigh. “I don’t want to do this.”

  “Were you born yesterday? Are you unaware of how the world works? Since when have your wants mattered?” His harsh tone cuts through me and stings just as much as the pain on my leg.

  He is right.

  I’m not special.

  Believing I was for this long was foolish and naive. The sooner I get over that fact, the less it’s going to hurt. I have no answer for him, but neither will I admit he is right, so instead, I squeeze my eyes closed and turn my head away.

  “Now, now,” he says, grazing my cheek with his hard forehead. He pins my wrists with one hand, and his fingers slide gently under my chin before pulling my head back toward him. “Just because no one gives a fuck about what you want, doesn’t mean you need to be so unhappy. I like deals. I’ll make a deal with you,” he says.

  I open my eyes and look up at him. “What’s the deal?”

  “I’ll allow you to stay here. Tonight. You can sleep in your bed and dream about your pretty dresses and your friends and your trinkets. And your virginity,” he adds with glee.

  I narrow my eyes at him, instantly mistrusting. “And in return?”

  He chuckles, which is eerie as fuck because the expression on the mask isn’t moving to reflect the sound. “In return, when I do come for you, we have none of this. You put your arms around my neck, you cuddle into my chest, and you act like you want me to take you.”

  I don’t answer him because there are no winners in this deal. Well, no winners that aren’t him. Whether he fucks me right now or carries me out in his arms tomorrow, I’m still being taken against my will.

  I’m still losing.

  He leans down and presses his cold metal face into the side of my head. “The alternative is we spend the night here together. You already got the bed nice and messed up for me…”

  “Deal,” I say.

  His grip on my wrist relaxes, and to my astonishment, he gets up and backs away from the bed. He’s still laughing hysterically as he walks toward the exit.

  I watch him as if he’s one of the starved bears they keep in the lower chambers, and my breath hitches when he turns around.

  “My name is Baron, and I’m about to become your nightmare.”

  6

  Baron

  Maxim stands to greet me when I
enter the room.

  “You are alone?”

  I look to my left, and then to my right, and wonder how long a person needs to stay in this place before they, too, become an imbecile. “Yes. I’m alone.”

  Maxim shifts nervously. “Where is Sapphire?”

  I take a seat at his table and gesture for him to join me. “You know, while I understand the logic behind her name, I don’t like it. I think I shall call her Fire instead.”

  He nods in agreement. “You might be right.”

  I laugh, cutting him off. “I’m always right.”

  “Why… why isn’t she with you?” Maxim gestures one of his men over with a bottle and pours himself a double measure. He raises an eyebrow at me, silently asking if I’d like one.

  Shaking my head, I point at my face. “Too messy.” I wouldn’t take the mask off for a hundred-year-old bottle of whisky, never mind the dubious-colored homemade shit he’s pouring now. “She didn’t feel obliged to join me.”

  “I can only apologize,” he says, taking a mouthful of his drink. “I’ll speak to her.”

  I shake my head. “No. It’s quite all right.”

  He lets his glass fall slowly to the table. “You don’t want her anymore?”

  “She’s a headache,” I state. It’s not a lie, though it doesn’t mean I don’t want her. Maxim doesn’t need to know that, though. “I fail to see what is so special about her to make me pay the eye-watering amount you’re asking. Not least when I’d have to go to all the trouble of breaking her myself.”

  Again, another occasion when I’m glad I don’t have to hide my expression. The thought of having to break her brings nothing but a smirk to my face.

  “She is different,” he says. “She can read… I taught her myself.“

  I snort. “She can read? Maxim, I have a grandmother at home quite capable of tucking me in with a bedtime story. Try again.”

  He stutters. “Her eyes.”

  I admit I do like her eyes. Those are a rarity worthy of mention.

  But I could continue this charade all night long, and he still wouldn’t be able to verbalize exactly what is so special about her. I don’t think he knows himself. I see it clearly, though. I’ve seen enough women who are either dead shells behind the eyes or faking their sickly sweet enthusiasm to know that my little spitfire isn’t one of them. She’s alive and she is present, which is the rarest thing in the world these days.

  “Hmm.” I shrug. “You might be right, but I still don’t see how that makes her value equal to one-hundred identically paired eyes.”

  “There is something else,” he says, lowering his voice until it’s almost a whisper. “There is a reason she is worth one-hundred pairs of eyes. I cannot say until she is bought and paid for, but I assure you on my honor, you will not be disappointed.”

  “You want me to pay an extortionate amount of money based on an entirely unknown factor and goodwill? I think not, Maxim.”

  Panic flashes in his eyes when he realizes this deal is about to fold. I don’t give the slightest shit about what makes her special. I already know why she is special to me—and that’s all that matters. But he will never know that. “D-do you have a price in mind?”

  I smile beneath my mask. The man should never play poker—I could take his eyes and he’d still welcome me back for the sockets. “Not a price. But I will make you an offer.”

  “Please,” he says, gesturing into nothing with his hand.

  “We’re about to redevelop the electricity grid. We’ll pull it from the old North Sea turbines, directly to the island. When that happens, I’ll have full control over who does and does not have reliable energy. Give me the girl, and I will ensure you have unlimited resources at no cost to you.”

  I watch his reaction carefully, pleased to see his eyes go wide. Maxim suffers, like we all do, with the constant power cuts. I can only imagine that living in a cave—however large—and relying on fire becomes more than a little irritating after a while.

  “Deal,” he says, holding out his hand.

  For the second time tonight, I stare at it.

  “Not so fast. I would have something else from you before we shake.”

  He lets his hand fall to the table, and I sit back casually in my chair. “When I take her with me, I will not have her thinking of this place as some giant, garish, luminous-bulbed beacon in the darkness. She must not want to return here. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Maxim sits back in his chair, his expression blank. He deliberates for a moment and then turns back toward me. “I understand. Do we have a deal?”

  This time when he holds out his hand, I shake it.

  I give the looming black tent a passing glance as I head toward the exit. The stalls have mostly put the shutters down for the night. Judging by how dry my mouth is, it’s probably only a few hours until dawn.

  But there is one still open.

  The fortune-teller eyes me as I walk around the tent, like she has some big secret in her keeping. I stop a few meters away and stare at her.

  I admit this woman has piqued my interest—not as much as my little spitfire, but then I can’t remember the last time someone has sparked such curiosity in me as Sapphire has. The woman in front of me is more like a locked door. What is hiding behind it?

  I’ve always liked puzzles. My grandmother says it will be my ruin.

  And what could be more puzzling than a fortune-teller staring at you like the cat who got the cream?

  “Do you have something for me, Crone?”

  The woman’s thin lips curve into a smile and she holds a single card up between two fingers, offering it to me. “This one is free, on account that you will not like what is written on it.”

  I raise my eyebrows, though she won’t be able to see them. Habit. “You see my death in front of me?”

  She laughs. “I thought you already knew exactly what was in front of you?”

  “I didn’t say I’d believe the death you were foreshadowing,” I say, snatching the card out of her hand.

  A planet sits in the center of the sky, or maybe it is a sun or a moon—perhaps both. It’s flanked at either side by two tall towers and split down the middle with a stream. On one side of the bank sits a dog, and on the other side a wolf. Crawling out from the river is a lobster or a crawfish.

  “And this means?”

  The woman gets up from her chair, much less frail than I imagined her to be. She’s small, perhaps not even reaching the middle of my chest. “I sense you are a clever man, or if not clever, then at least resourceful. The meaning will become known to you at exactly the correct time.”

  I’m about to throw the card back at her when she raises a hand to stop me. “Ah. Keep it. Prove me wrong.”

  We stare at each other for a moment, and it’s like she can see beneath the mask because the expression on her face matches my own exactly. She’s smug, but so am I.

  If there is one thing I like more than a puzzle, it’s proving people wrong.

  “Very well,” I say, opening my jacket and slipping the card inside. “I only hope you live long enough to see me win.”

  She laughs. “I’ll see you tomorrow, but I fear it will be some time before I win.”

  I leave her without saying anything else. She’s intriguing but creepy. I had indeed intended to return tomorrow, but she couldn’t have known that. Lucky guess, but still.

  The lights in the tunnel are out, but it’s not hard to follow the torches. Reaching the end, I rattle on the edges of the bars and the giant outside begins his walk around the wheel. Poor creature. He was about to have the night of his fucking life.

  Of course, I would have had to kill him for it, but at least he’d have died a happy man rather than a hamster in a wheel.

  Now it seems I’m the only man who will die with those mismatched eyes scorched into his mind.

  How perfect.

  7

  Sapphire

  I’m jolted from sleep when a sharp sting s
preads across my cheek.

  My hand flies to my face instantly, and my eyes open only to be met with red.

  Red skin.

  Maxim.

  “Up!” he shouts, grabbing my arm and yanking me from the low bed.

  What is happening?

  “Get the fuck up,” he shouts.

  Straightening, I try to remember what I’ve done to cause this.

  And then I do remember.

  A slow trickle at first… the dance… and then a rush. The four men. The man with the mask. The giant.

  Maxim grabs me by the neck and pushes me hard up against the wall. “I bet you thought you were so clever, didn’t you? Clever little Sapphire with her books and her schemes. This ends now.”

  “I…” I’m about to apologize because it seems like the most logical thing to do, but his hand tightens around my throat and the back of his free hand stops inches away from my face.

  A warning.

  I shut my mouth only to jump when he speaks again.

  “Those were some very important guests you shunned last night. I should have you thrown down in the lower cellars with no food for a week. And I would do exactly that if you weren’t already too skinny for most men’s appetites.”

  He releases me just enough to let me gasp for air and then forces me backward again.

  The jagged edges in the stones cut into my back, making me squirm.

  Sensing he is nowhere near finished with his rant, the empty feeling in my stomach increases.

  “You are out of control, Sapphire. You push me too far. You make me regret pampering you. I suppose it is my own fault. You were always my favorite, but you have let it go to your head. No more,” he says, finally releasing me for real while he backs away from me.

  I stare at him. In all my years here, I have never seen him like this. Not once. Maybe he saved this only for the others.

  “Get yourself ready and go directly to the ring. Denim will tell you what I expect from you.”

  I slide down on the wall as the sound of his retreating footsteps floats toward me. I should have anticipated something like this, but yesterday I wasn’t thinking any farther than avoiding Hum. And then after, the only thing on my mind was the man with the mask.