If Only She'd Loved Him

Chapter 48

Megan wanted the letter delivered as much as Erik, more so since she knew what it really said, so she got dressed fast. But she wasn't prepared for the sight of the cuffs hanging off the bed.  She was still staring at them when Erik returned.  Surprising her from behind, he caught her up in big bear hug.

"Beautiful as ever." 

She held still, forcing herself to smile.  She waited until he released her, then pointed to the bed. "What's this?"

"Babe, I thought you'd recognize those by now," he laughed, taking a hold of one of her shoulders. She shrugged trying to dislodge his hand, but he held on. Her skin was warm and soft from her shower. He pressed his fingers further in, thinking how much she looked and felt like a peach. Unable to resist, he nipped her shoulder, taking just a little taste.

She jumped. She brushed his hand away from her arm, but all she could think about was what was clanking against her bed.  "No, I mean what are they for?"

"Memory lapse, sweetheart?" he smiled. "I have to go deliver your letter, remember?"

"So?"

He decided not to keep playing. "So," he replied, "I want you to be here when I get back."

"But, I promise I'll stay" she protested.

"And I believe you, mostly, but I need a little reassurance." On top of the table by the window sat a brown paper bag.  Erik picked it up and handed it to her.  "I didn't want you to get bored, so I brought you some magazines to amuse yourself with."

Megan looked inside the bag. "Crayons?" she asked doubtfully. "You bought me coloring books?"

"No," he laughed.  "The crayons are for my protection and yours.  Knowing what you can do with a paperclip made me think that pens have too many parts, and pencils are too sharp.  I really don't want lead poisoning."

Megan cocked an eyebrow at him. "You have a funny way of showing you trust me."

He shrugged. "But I don't, not completely.  Now, you promised me you weren't going to fight, and what's the first thing I hear out of your mouth?"

She bit her lip and looked over the magazines he'd given her.  She almost gasped.  The first one was this month's Challenge!  Halfway down its front was an article on secret codes.  Picking up the magazine, she hastily flipped it over and looked at the next ones: standard crossword puzzles and cryptograms.  He was watching her.

"What's the matter?" he asked. "Did I get the wrong ones?"

"No, they're fine." She fought to recover herself.  "But please, can't you just lock me in the room?  I swear to you I won't try to escape.  You have my word."

His smile turned downwards.  "I had your word before, remember, and it cost me this." He held up his arm.  The cut Megan had inflicted with the razor was just starting to heal, the skin turning over onto itself, forming a sharp red line.  "No, babe,"  he snarled.  "I want more than your word."  He left the room, tossing the bag on the bed as he did so.

Megan waited until he had shut the door, before she rearranged the magazines, making sure the one about crosswords was on the top of the pile. She had just taken her comb from the bathroom and added it to the pile, when Erik returned wearing gloves.  He put a can of soda and a bag of potato chips down on the chair beside her bed.  Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a white envelope.  Tossing the envelope at her, he handed her the same pen she'd used in the living room.

"Almost forgot, write Jean's name on this." 

Megan picked up the pen and carefully wrote Jean across the envelope.  He took the pen back immediately.  As she started to lick the letter shut, she took a quick sniff.  She could still smell the orange juice. She was just about to seal it when Erik stopped her.

"Not quite yet," he held out his hand, "give me your necklace." 

"Erik, no," Megan paled, not moving.  "My grandmother gave me this."

He took a step closer.  "Give it to me, or I'll take it."

She clutched her hand around the chain, protecting the delicate gold butterfly at her neck.     

"No, please, let me keep it," she pleaded with him.

He shook his head. 

"At least let me keep the charm!"

"'Fraid not," he said.  "You need to break all ties with your past life.  Give it to me."  Again, he held out his hand, palm up.  Sweating, Megan faked trying to undo the clasp but he got impatient. His face soured. "Stalling won't work, love." He reached for her neck.  She ducked away still holding the chain.

"What are you going to do with it?" she asked, backing up.

For every step backwards she took, he took two forwards. "Why, I'm going to give Jean a going away present.  It's the perfect touch I think." 

Lowering his arms to his waist as if he'd changed his mind, he suddenly shot out his right hand, clamping it down on her wrist.  He pulled her to him.  Holding her against him in a forced hug, he unfastened the catch. She felt the butterfly dance on her throat. As the chain came loose in his hands, he let go of her neck.  However, he caught up her hand and gripping it firmly, pulled her onto the bed.  There, he snapped the handcuff around her left wrist.  With her free hand, she slapped him.

"Bastard!"

Erik rubbed his gloved hand over the red mark she'd left on his cheek.  "And your touch was so soft before." 

Tears welled up, hot and furious, only to fall away as she landed on the bed. Erik joined her there. She turned her head from him only to feel his gloved fingers turn it back. She ached to snap her head down and bite through those gloves till she tasted bone.

His voice was tender, almost regretful.  "Sweetheart, I'm sorry, but this is the only way.  I know how much that necklace meant to you.  I'll buy you a new one, ten new ones if you want."

"I only want that one," she mumbled.

"No."  His voice was firm.  It held no room for compromise.  He handed her the envelope. "Now seal it," he demanded.  "Then give me a kiss so I can taste your lips on the drive."

She tried to fold both her arms across her chest, but had to settle on just one.  "No," she replied.

"Megan," his eyes glittered at her. "I have a lot of options here. I can make things much more uncomfortable for you, and safer for me.  But I wanted to show you some trust so I only cuffed one wrist.  Do you want me to change my mind?" He pushed her chin up, forcing her to stare at him.

"No," she muttered.  Closing her eyes, she pursed her lips.

"Eyes open, sweetheart, I want to see those beautiful blues."

Reluctantly she opened her them.  His mouth lowered down onto hers.  Clamped down hard, telling her he would take the kiss she didn't want to give.  His eyes were green chips.  They tore into her, holding her still and silent.  Despite her complete hatred of him at that moment, Megan felt her body quiver at his taste.  He ran his fingers across her throat, pausing at the hollow below her chin, then drifted downwards, heading back up her arm, pushing her sleeve up her shoulder.  Against her will, her fingers slowly began to curl.  His hand encircled her wrist, testing the metal's distance from bone.  Satisfied, he slid up to his knees. 

"Stay right where you are.  If you're good," he winked at her, "I'll bring you a present."

She didn't answer him.  She waited till he was out of the room, and then she closed her eyes trying as hard as she could to shut out the taste of his tongue, the feel of his fingertips, the heat forging through her body, shut them all out, forever.