Fear washes over me, once again. Byron is a fucking psycho and he has access to do whatever he wants with me and to me.
“This will ensure that you don’t get out of hand. I wouldn’t want to have to hurt you, Bella.”
I’m able to get a better view of the collar as he unfastens it. There’s a black ball on the end with a…
He shoves the ball in my mouth so hard, it hits my top and bottom teeth. A mask-like shield presses to my face, covering my entire mouth. I try like hell to spit it out. Pressing my tongue forcibly against it, hoping it will budge, but he has the upper hand and fastens the clasp around my head, setting it in place.
My heart is beating so rapidly that it’s rattling my rib cage. I’m suffocating. My entire body is filled with heat while feeling like I’m getting poked continuously with pins and needles. Anxiety is kicking into high gear because, no matter how hard I try, I can't get a grip on it.
I’ve never been so scared in my life. I think I’d rather die than face what Byron has in store for me.
Please. Please get me out of this, Cal.
Byron reaches into his pocket and pulls something out.
A needle.
He presses his index finger to the end, pushing up some of the liquid inside. It squirts out before he grabs my arm.
I flail through my restraints, crying out around the gag in my mouth.
It’s no use, though. The needle pierces my skin, and he pushes down, watching me with menacing eyes as he pumps me full of whatever drug he’s feeding me.
My arm goes limp. Hot and cold collide inside me. My thoughts shut down, and I just lie there, slowly drifting to sleep.
CHAPTER FOUR
I see a girl.
No. Two girls.
Maybe three. And a guy. He’s big. Really muscular and tan with black stubble coating his sharp jawline. He’s not wearing a shirt. My eyes skate down his body. He’s not wearing anything.
I’m hardly fazed. Even the fact that there’s a girl on her knees sucking his dick doesn’t fully register. My mind and body are so relaxed that nothing seems out of the ordinary. Or maybe I’m just too high to care.
I’m too high to even care that I’m high.
She’s a pretty girl. Long, blonde hair that dips below her perky breasts. Nipples puckered around her golden locks. Her mouth forms the perfect O around his cock. Sliding back and forth, taking him so far that I can see the bulge in her throat.
Does anyone even care that I’m lying here shackled without a voice?
No one seems to mind.
My heart gallops when the muscular guy’s eyes land on mine. He tips his head, smirks, then returns to fisting the girl's hair. His slow and steady movements quicken as he begins fucking her mouth so hard that she can barely keep up with his thrusts.
Why am I here? What is the point of all this?
Another girl joins. This one’s a short brunette, wearing a black, leather bustier with chains on the front. She looks familiar. When she catches my gaze, she licks her bottom lip in a seductive manner, and I remember where I’ve seen her before. The waitress from the yacht. I think her name is Serena.
I’m not even sure she recognizes me. Our first encounter wasn’t a pleasant one and Cal fired her that night. It seems Byron has rehired her, or he’s just fucking her still. I watched them once. Watched him ram his dick in another girl while she feasted on Serena.
The image in my head is oddly satisfying.
Serena steps behind the blonde on her knees, gives her hair a jerk and pulls her mouth from the guy’s cock. She leans forward and kisses her. Hard. So hard that the blonde loses her footing and drops back. Being the bitch that she is, Serena pushes her to the side and steps up to the muscular guy. Her hands shimmy down his arms, and she licks the side of his face. “I thought you were waiting for me,” she says to him before getting a firm grip on his cock.
I’m deranged for enjoying this so much. It’s like watching dramatic porn.
I close my eyes. This is too much of a distraction, and I need to think about how the hell I’m supposed to get out of this mess I’m in.
Where is Byron? And what the hell did he inject me with?
The three shadows in front of me become blurry, and I find myself fighting to keep my eyes open again.
I’m not sure how long I dozed off this time, but I’m woken up when the mattress presses down at my side. My eyes open, and I blink a few times before I realize that it’s Byron. I’m grateful to see that he’s dressed, unlike the other people I see. There are at least six of them now. Two guys and four girls, not counting Byron.
Byron crawls toward me, straddling my lower half. My stomach clenches, and I gasp behind the ball in my mouth. I gurgle and choke, trying to get words out, but it’s pointless.
“Time to get you up, pretty girl.” He reaches over me and unclasps the cuff on my left arm. It falls weightlessly. If I had the strength, I’d try to fight him off with just my one free hand, but I’d fail miserably.
He undoes my other hand, then moves to my feet. He knows whatever he gave me has made me weak and incoherent enough to let him do whatever he wants to me. I can think logically, but my body fails to react the way I’d like it to.
“Come on, let her join in,” I hear a guy say. “We won’t hurt her…much.” He chuckles, and it’s unnerving.
“Not yet,” Byron says as he scoops me in his arms like a baby. He carries me through The Grotto, passing everyone who is still chasing an orgasm even as a prisoner is being carried away with a gag in her mouth.
They must all work for Byron. At one time, they worked for Cal. Byron must’ve taken over Cal’s place in the business. He must have inherited it all, just like he wanted.
But why does he need me?
“Time to get you cleaned up and ready for the ball, pretty girl.”
We go out the door that leads to the main entrance, and I remember it all so clearly.
The backside of the castle that was once open is now closed with a pair of wooden double doors, ones that resemble the doors to a barn, only with gray-weathered wood instead of the common red barnwood.
A beam of light shines through, which tells me that it’s either early morning or late afternoon. I must have been out all night.
Byron flips me over his shoulder and takes the elevator up. It stops on the eighth floor—the floor I stayed on.
He doesn't stop until we get to my old room. The memories hit me like a tidal wave. From that first day to the last night. So much happened in those short weeks, and while it was only a month ago, it feels like an eternity.
I’m dropped onto the bed like a sack of potatoes. Byron reaches around my head and unclasps the collar. I immediately spit out the ball in my mouth, then wipe the excess saliva from my face with the back of my hand. I’m half tempted to rub it all over his face, but I refrain.
My entire jaw aches. My teeth chatter from the constant pressure against them, and my tongue is just happy to be able to move around.
Byron goes into my closet, returning with a dress.
“Please, just let me go.” I whimper through clipped breaths. I’m thirsty as hell, my heart feels weak, and I’m almost positive Byron injected me with some sort of sedative.
I slide down until I’m sitting on the end of the bed with my feet on the floor. I could try and run, but I wouldn’t get far. I have to save my strength to use it at precisely the right time.