Jessa had blocked out the sounds of the voyeurs, but clearly Decker hadn’t. “Everyone get the fuck out. I want to have what is mine in peace. Get out and let me be,” he demanded as he continued to desecrate her body with his driving force.
All the men did as if he’d asked respectfully. Not a single argument was given, nor a sign of resistance. They all clearly saw this Decker guy as a leader and one to follow directions from.
When the door closed behind the last man, Decker stopped his motions and pulled his cock out of her without warning. The action actually had her moaning in need. She wanted it back. She wanted evil to enter her again.
“Did you come in me?” she asked.
“No.” One word, stated so simply, yet left her so baffled.
She looked over her shoulder to find Decker walking over to a dresser. He pulled out one of his shirts and tossed it to her. “Put this on.”
Confused, she rose up from the bed and looked at the shirt and then back at him. Why had he stopped?
“I said put it on. Then get into bed.”
Jessa followed his command, unsure of what was to come. The change in his persona was completely different than the monster who fucked her only seconds before. A whiplash of emotions surged through her.
When she pulled the shirt over her head, concealing her body for the first time since the kidnap, she asked, “What are you doing? I don’t understand.” Why was he not finishing what he started? Why was he covering her up? Had she disgusted him somehow? And why was she feeling a sense of disappointment?
Decker walked over to the bed and pulled down the blankets. “Get into bed.” He looked at her for a minute and studied her. “I’m not going to chain you up unless you even give me a hint you will try to escape.”
Jessa nodded and did as he asked, still confused as to why he wouldn’t finish fucking her, but happy to have it all come to an end. The silence in the room was by far the greatest reward. She crawled into a ball on the far edge of the bed and closed her eyes. Exhausted, scared, and uncertain of what was to come, she knew that right now she just needed sleep. Sleep would be her only escape from this awful nightmare.
Decker crawled into the bed beside her but kept his hands to himself. “Goodnight,” his husky voice said in not much more than a whisper. “By the way, what’s your name?”
“Jessa. My name is Jessa.”
“Goodnight, Jessa. Sleep tight.” Simple words of humanity spoken by a monster.
33
She woke up in the middle of the night, with the sharp chill in the air and vengeance pumping through her veins. She didn’t want to feel his breath or feel his heart beat through the thin cotton of his t-shirt she was wearing. She wanted to kill him. Torture him. And God help her…she wanted to fuck him. Fuck him hard over and over again.
A moment of peace as he slept. A moment of safety as his arm lay draped over her naked body. A moment of feeling like a loved woman after a night of passion and lust-filled lovemaking. An illusion. The full moon cast a strong beam of light into the room, only illuminating her harsh reality. She was a captive in bed with her captor. She had only her to hold on to, even though her strength was fading. A strength turning into a pool of thick dark weakness, threatening to suffocate her in despair.
Fuck Decker. Fuck him straight to hell. And yet, as he slept, she remembered small glimpses of his humanity. There were many. He gave her small peeks into his soul that showed he wasn’t all black inside.
She ran her fingertips along the outline of a tattoo of a black crow on his chest. Its wings were spread wide, its pointy beak pointing toward the sky. Did it represent death? Did it represent death he brought on to others? Death he had brought on to him? The dark crow. The blackness. Why? Why would he want the memory of death forever branded into his flesh?
“Decker?” Jessa whispered, breaking the silence of the room. She looked up at his face as he slept. He looked so peaceful, gentle, and even kind. This was not the rough man who punished her in front of a roomful of men and then took her against her will. This sleeping man was not a monster. “Decker,” she said again a little louder.
His eyes fluttered open and he turned his head to look at her. “You should be asleep,” he said in a scratchy voice.
“Am I going to die?” She had to know the truth.