We’re Not Strangers Anymore

Rowan

I wake up in a panic, tied to the accent chair in the corner of Grayson’s bedroom. My eyelids feel heavy from the drugs and I have a pounding headache. My limbs feel like they have fifty-pound weights attached to them. Grayson is sitting on the bed with a glass of whiskey in his hand and his shirt is half buttoned.

Grayson’s dark gaze lands on me. “I found this in your purse.” He holds up my small notebook. I started writing in it when we got to Italy. I’ve always liked to write when I felt overwhelmed because I have never had anyone to talk to. This whole thing with Grayson brought out too many feelings and I had to get them on paper.

“You didn’t–”

“Yeah I read it. There’s just one part I can’t figure out.” He slurs his words. Turning to the fourth page, he holds it in front of me. “You told me you hate me, but you told your notebook you love me.” He half smiles only for a moment .

“No, I wrote that I think I do. But now I know I don’t.” I say, indifferently. No matter how I feel, he doesn’t deserve to know. Lying to me was bad enough but all of this– he fucked up this time.

“I know you want to hurt me, Row. I get it. But you don’t have to hide what you feel.” He looks down. “ Please , just tell me how you feel.”

I look around thoughtfully for a moment. “I have a better idea,” my breath comes in shallow gasps as I stare at the bindings around my wrists, the coarse ropes chafing my skin. “We’re going to play an old game. Untie me, if I make it to the front door you have to let me go. No tricks, no games, and none of your fucking tranquilizer.”

He chuckles, a low rumbling sound that sets my nerves on edge. “And if I catch you?”

I hesitate. “Then I’ll tell you how I feel. No holding back.”

The room seems to grow quieter. Grayson’s eyes narrow on me as he studies me. For a moment I’m sure he’s going to refuse. But he smiles lazily. “You’ve got yourself a deal, baby,” he says, pushing himself to his feet with a slight wobble. This is going to be easy . He’s hammered.

He fumbles with the knots around my wrists. My skin tingles where his fingers brush against my skin, but I ignore the feeling. This is my only chance and I need to focus .

The moment my hands are free, I bolt. I sprint down the hallway, reaching the top of the staircase. I can hear Grayson’s laughter behind me, almost mocking me. Even though he’s drunk, he’s still faster than me. I quickly run down the staircase and as I reach the bottom, I glance back and see Grayson jumping from the top of the staircase. Why didn’t I think to do that? Panic surges through me and I dart to the large walk-in pantry in the kitchen and hide. Pressing myself against the wall, I try to calm my breathing. My mind races as I try to come up with a plan to get from here to the front door.

The door to the pantry creaks open and Grayson steps in, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and darkness. “Running was a good idea,” he says, his voice low. “But you should know better than to try and hide from me.”

My breath hitches as he moves closer, I can smell the whiskey on his breath, see the way his lustful gaze roams over me. This is a game to him, but I can’t afford to lose. In a last-ditch effort, I dart past him, aiming for the foyer. I almost make it until I feel his arm close around my waist, yanking me back to him. I gasp, attempting to free myself from his grasp but it’s no use.

“I win.” He whispers mockingly into my ear, sending shivers down my spine. He holds me tightly and I can feel his heart beating fast, matching my own. I look up at him, seeing the desire in his eyes and it sends an involuntary rush between my legs.

“So,” he starts, turning me around and pressing me to the wall, his body pinning my hips in place. “How do you feel, Row?”

“Fuck–” It slips out, barely above a whisper. I hesitate, the words sticking in my throat. “I– care about you, more than I should.”

His hand slides up my body until he grips my chin, forcing me to look at him. “You said no holding back,” he leans in, brushing his lips lightly against mine. “A deals a deal.”

My breath catches and my body responds to his touch, arching my back against the wall. “I feel things I don’t want to feel,” I say breathlessly. “I want you and I want to be away from you. I want to be away from you because I want you.”

He lets out a low growl as he presses his lips to my neck. “Tell me more.” He whispers against my skin.

“I– I can’t” I breathe.

He lifts my leg to wrap around his waist. “Yeah you can. Your words are safe with me, Row.” He presses between my legs harder.

Safe . That’s what I feel when he’s around. Everything he’s done should make me feel unsafe but I don’t. Not with Grayson. “I love you, Grayson.” The words slip from my lips before I can even think about it. “I’m– I’m in love with you.”

A satisfied groan vibrates from his chest as he unzips his jeans and yanks the sweatpants he put on me earlier off of my legs. Before I can protest, he wraps his arm under my thigh and enters me forcefully, slamming my back against the wall. I let out a scream, still feeling sore from the first time. “Say it again.” He demands as he thrusts deeper inside of me.

“I love you, Grayson.” I moan, pressing my forehead to his.

He picks up speed grabbing a fistful of my hair with his free hand. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re here to stay, do you understand me?” He grits out as he slams into me harder.

“Yes,” I breathe.

“Yes what?” He pulls my head back, his eyes searing into mine.

“Yes, sir.”

He bites his bottom lip, thrusting deeper inside me and I feel a rush of heat to my core as I clench around him.

“ Fuck you’re soaking me, Row.” He groans, thrusting deep and hard, drawing out my orgasm. “I’m going to torture this little pussy for the rest of your life. Now say you’re mine and fucking mean it this time.” He demands, his thrusts growing harder and faster.

“I’m yours.” I say breathlessly. Maybe I’ll run again, maybe not. But at this moment, this is the only place I want to be .

“Tell me you love me, . I want to see the words on those pretty lips of yours again.” He grits out, his half lidded gaze focusing on my lips.

“I love you.” I wince as Grayson painfully slams into me, his warmth filling me as his movements slow down and his body relaxes against mine.

We sit silent for a moment, our heavy breathing the only sound filling the confined space.

He pulls out of me and looks down, glaring at me. “Let’s go. Now,” he orders, his voice flat. There’s no warmth. No Emotion. Just a command. My stomach churns and my chest tightens with the unease of what I told him. I obey, pushing off the wall. My legs shake and my body is sore from our rough encounter. Grayson grabs my arm, his grip firm, and pulls me behind him through the kitchen and up the staircase. I stumble after him as he quickly walks us back to the master bedroom. He pushes me onto the bed and reaches into the nightstand drawer, pulling out a pair of handcuffs. The sight of them makes my heart sink. Even after admitting that I love him, he doesn’t trust me. He thinks I’ll run.

“Is this really necessary?” I ask, my voice cracking slightly. My question hangs in the air, unanswered. Grayson doesn’t even look at me as he approaches, the cold metal of the cuff pressing into my wrist. I want to recoil, to pull away. But that’ll just prove his point .

“You’ve been a bad girl,” he says, his voice as cold as the metal as he fastens the other cuff to the bedpost. “You tried to leave before. I can’t trust you not to try again.”

“I bared my fucking soul to you, Grayson. I told you I love you.” The frustration in my voice is clear.

He steps back, looking down at me with a hardened expression. “Words are cheap, darling. I can’t afford to risk losing you again.”

“You think I’m just telling you what you want to hear?” Tears well up in my eyes, but I blink them back. I refuse to let him see me cry anymore.

He doesn’t answer, just stares at me with that same cold, unreadable expression. It’s infuriating the way he made me tell him how I feel and then says nothing about it.

“You wanted me to admit it,” I say, my voice breaking. “You pushed and pushed until I finally said it and now that I have, you’re just going to ignore it? Pretend it doesn’t matter?”

Grayson’s eyes narrow on me. “Fuckin’ hurts, doesn’t it?”

He moves towards the door, leaving me cuffed to the bed. “Goodnight, .” He says, his voice still cold as ice. He leaves, the door closing behind him with a finality that makes my heart sink. This is how he felt when he told me he loves me, and I left him. He wants me to feel his pain. I hurt him.