The taskmaster, p.23
The Taskmaster, page 23
She fell asleep in my arms, and I stroked her hair to soothe her, thinking back to the first time I’d seen her, and how I wanted to use her to get to her father. None of that mattered anymore. I couldn’t care less about him walking away all those years ago. Because in doing what he did, he’d given me the need, the overwhelming urge to try and find him. And in finding him, I found her.
I fell asleep with her in my arms, and when I woke, listening to her soft breaths beside me, I knew I wouldn’t leave, not like last time when I left the dice behind. I wanted her to wake up and find me lying next to her. It’d be another first for both of us.
Things were changing in this game we were playing. The rules and rewards were morphing into something else. Everything was becoming more intense, my mind immersing into everything Abigail, and I craved more. She felt like home somehow. And for someone who’d never had a proper home, that was fucking huge for me.
Eventually, I felt her move in my arms and she gave a little sigh before saying, “You stayed.”
“I ran out of dice,” I joked, but what I wanted to say was, ‘I didn’t want to let you go. I never want to let you go.’
She reached up to touch her hair and groaned, “My hair is so matted.” And she started to run her fingers through it to try and unknot the tangles.
“I’m sorry,” I told her. “That might be my fault. I was stroking your hair while you slept.”
She stayed quiet for a moment, then said quietly, “Have you been stroking it every night? Because I usually wake up like this.” She was joking, and I knew if I said, ‘Yes. I let myself in and watch you sleep,’ she’d freak the fuck out, so I stayed quiet.
“I really need to brush my teeth and take a shower,” she added, still facing away from me, even though I had pulled her tightly into my arms.
“Sounds like a plan. I need a shower too.”
She chuckled, knowing exactly what I meant. The fun and games weren’t over yet.
I sat up, letting the covers fall off me, then climbed off the bed. She turned to watch me, her eyes scanning my body before she looked at me with a cheeky grin.
“Are you coming?” I asked, holding my hand out for her to take.
She sat up and something primal inside me wanted to growl and claim her as mine.
She climbed off the bed, and as she went to walk past me, I slapped her ass and told her, “I hope you weren’t expecting to be in work on time today.”
“I’m not going into work today. I have a few days off,” she replied, glancing over her shoulder and biting that goddamn lip, making me feral.
“Thank God for that. I can take my fucking time.”
Her shower stall was small but perfect for what I had planned. She turned the water on, and I put my hand under the stream to check it was warm enough before we both stepped under it. We let the water cascade over our bodies, and I started to kiss her, holding her face in my hands as I tasted what was mine. She was delicious, warm, and every stroke of her tongue against mine made my cock hard and throb with need.
I reached down and put my hands behind her knees, picked her up and pressed her against the wet tiles as she wrapped her legs around me.
“What do you want?” I whispered in her ear as I trailed kisses from her lips to her cheek, then her neck.
“I want... your cock inside me,” she gasped. “I want to feel your piercings again.”
Her fingers dug into my shoulders as she tilted her head to give me better access to kiss her. The skin on her neck prickled into bumps as I ran my tongue in little circles. The way she reacted to me, to everything I did and said, was such a fucking turn on.
“Hold on tight, baby. I need to fuck you hard and fast this morning,” I told her, and I reached down, positioning my cock at her entrance, then slammed into her.
She cried out, throwing her head back as I fucked her against the tiles. Thrusting into her tight pussy as she rocked her hips against me and clung to me like she might drown if she didn’t.
Her legs wound around me tightly, her pussy gripped my cock, and I felt her fingernails pierce my skin, but I wanted more. So much more.
“Give it to me,” I growled. “Come on my cock and tell me whose pussy this is.”
Her head was resting on my shoulder as she moaned through every thrust. I gripped her ass as I slammed into her over and over. And then, as her walls clamped around my cock and started to spasm, contracting hard, she cried out, “Yours. It’s yours,” as her legs shook and her body shuddered.
“Mine,” I said, my teeth gritted as I came too, filling her tight little pussy with my cum. “Only mine.”
As I rocked my hips into her, milking every last drop of our orgasms, I realised I’d found something I never even knew I needed. I’d found something else to live for other than death, hurt and destruction.
I’d found her.
I had an obsessive personality. I’d been obsessed with Abigail Walters from the first moment I saw her. But what happened after that night turned into something far more powerful than obsession.
She was all I thought about.
She was all I cared about.
Every moment of the day was spent watching her from the apartment down the hall, studying her face and every smile, frown, every expression she made, and thinking of ways I could control it, change it and manipulate the world around her to make everything perfect for her.
It wasn’t an obsession, it was an unquestionable infatuation I couldn’t turn off. A craving I could never sate. Her whole existence was now linked to mine, and I’d die without her. I needed her like air, water, and food. The thought of anyone being near her, hurting her, made me want to rip the world apart with my bare hands.
I watched her in her apartment, and when she started to fret or looked worried, I sent her a text to ask how her day was or question how excited she was to play our next game. Those small gestures seemed to mean a lot to her, judging from the look on her face every time she received them. Maybe I was better at this than I thought, this being interacting with others on a normal, everyday level.
Over the next few weeks, I visited her too, choosing my moments carefully so I could show her that I was always there for her, especially at times when her vulnerability seemed more palpable.
My whole life revolved around her.
Fucking her was like a drug that kept me alive.
Holding her in my arms was medication that soothed my fucking soul.
I guarded her like a fucking dog, checking the CCTV around the building to make sure there were no suspicious dark figures or black Mercedes hanging around. And as for Q, I didn’t give a shit anymore. The guy probably wasn’t even a real person. Tolley probably made it up to fuck with me. I didn’t have time for anything else.
Everything was her.
I stared at the screen, watching her flick through the channels on her TV. I was thankful she wasn’t going out. It made watching her so much easier, but it wasn’t right. She was locking herself away. If she were going to be locked away, I’d prefer it to be with me on my terms.
So, I sent her a text.
Me
Are you ready to take the games to the next level?
She wouldn’t have a choice, but it was nice to let her think she did.
Abigail
What did you have in mind?
She replied, and I smirked at my phone as images of what was going to happen tonight filtered through my brain.
Me
I want you to come out with me tonight. I have a task for you.
On the monitor, I saw her open the message, read it, and her face dropped.
Abigail
Can’t we do it here? I’m not in the mood to go out.
Not in the mood, or wouldn’t?
I got that she might be worried about the consequences of what’d happened that night in the cottage. I could understand her being wary because of the fucker trying to break into her apartment. But I was going to be there. She knew not to be afraid when she was with me.
I stared at my phone, trying to decide how to respond, but words wouldn’t cut it this time.
I put my phone in my pocket, left the apartment and headed to her front door.
I knocked, and her quiet, apprehensive voice from the other side asked, “Who is it?”
“Your friendly neighbourhood stalker,” I replied, thankful that her nosey neighbour hadn’t come out and questioned why the lock guy was at her door again.
She opened the door and frowned at me. “How do you do that?”
“Do what?” I asked as I placed a kiss on her forehead and walked past her into her apartment.
“Be here whenever I... never mind.” She shook her head, then closed the door and turned to face me. “I could order in a pizza.”
“Or... I could take you to play the game I messaged you about.”
I took a step towards her, and her breaths came a little quicker. I loved those sexy little pants she did when she knew I’d gone into predator mode.
“The one where we take things up a notch,” I added, taking a step closer. I was towering over her, peering down at her doe eyes as she stared up at my devilish grin. “The one where I fuck you in a way you’ve never been fucked before.”
“Can’t we do that here?” she asked, her voice all breathy and sexy as fuck.
“No,” I said firmly, grabbing her coat off the back of the door and passing it to her. “My bike is downstairs. I’ll drive, and you... will fucking love it.” I kissed her again on the forehead, and she sighed, took a step to the side and opened the door.
Twenty minutes later, we were standing in my warehouse in the exact same spot that Peter Hipkiss, her alleyway attacker, had woken up in when I dragged his rapist ass off the street. Spotlights lit up the room, and the concrete walls made it look like a prison cell, but I leaned into her and whispered, “Don’t worry. I promise this’ll be more fun than it looks.”
It'd always pissed me off that I’d wasted that game on him, but thankfully, I’d thought of a new way to use it. The maze had been cleaned up, and all the glass and shit that might hurt a player had been removed. Now, it was a different kind of maze, and I couldn’t wait to play in it.
She glanced around and asked, “Where is this place?”
“It’s a warehouse I sometimes use.”
“I’m not sure I want to know what for after hearing the rules you live by.” She turned to face me. “Should I be scared?”
“Only if you want to be,” I replied, and then I moved back, leaving her standing in the middle of the room as I took the remote control from my pocket. “Welcome to my game,” I said, and a smirk spread across my face as excitement swarmed inside me. “In a moment, the lights will go out, and you will be left to play the game, relying solely on your senses. But first, we need to go over a few rules.”
“Here we go.” She narrowed her eyes at me and grinned. “You love your rules.”
“Rule One.” I lifted my chin, taking on my taskmaster persona as I told her, “You have to keep moving. This game won’t work if you stand still. Be brave. Trust me, and trust that I’ll look after you.”
“Okay,” she replied. “Is that it?”
“No. Rule number two, you have to do exactly what I say. I am in control. You are the cat and I’m the mouse.”
“Ooo, sounds sexy,” she quipped, and I nodded.
“It is.”
I let the seconds tick by to build anticipation, then hit her with my final rule. “And number three, when I catch you, I fuck you. It’s that simple.”
“So simple.” She lowered her head, peering at me through her lashes, biting her goddamn lip and teasing me. I fucking loved it.
I took slow steps towards her, then, when I was towering over her, I put my hands on her shoulders and spun her around to face the door.
I clicked the remote and the door opened.
“Are you ready?” I asked, whispering low in her ear.
“Born ready,” she replied, and I smiled, stepping away from her.
“Good.” I held the remote up and, in that moment, when I pressed the button and the lights went off, drowning us in darkness, I growled, “Run.”
On a table to the side, I had a pair of night vision goggles, amongst other things I wanted to use tonight, and I put the goggles on to give me the advantage I wanted. Then I started to laugh as I heard her gasping as she made her way down the first corridor away from me.
I stepped out of the room and peered down the hallway, just in time to see her turn left, her hands pressed against the concrete as she stumbled in the dark.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” I called out, following her.
I wanted to take my time, build her adrenaline and stalk her through this maze until she was begging me to find her and fuck her.
I turned left, but she wasn’t there.
“Which way did you go, Little Killer?” I walked to the end of the hallway. “I can smell your fear. I’ll smell your arousal soon too.”
I listened carefully, and her panted breaths were coming from the right, so I followed them, taking a knife from my pocket and scraping it against the wall. “One, two, The Master’s coming for you,” I sang. “Three, four, I’m gonna fuck you on the floor.”
I took the remote out of my pocket and hit another button. The sound of cackling screams reverberated off the walls, and I heard her scream too.
“Did that frighten you?” I tilted my head, stopping myself from reminding her of the rules. She needed to trust that I wouldn’t hurt her. But in doing that, I’d have to break character, and I really didn’t want to do that.
Instead, I hit the button to activate the rainstorm sounds, and then I pressed for lightning.
“There’s a storm coming, Abigail. Are you ready to get very, very wet?”
I reached the end of the hallway and stopped. Her breathy little pants had turned into moans, or cries, I couldn’t tell which, with the other sounds around me. But whatever they were, they fucking turned me on.
I started to walk towards where I thought she might be, announcing into the darkness, “Do you know what I’m going to do when I catch you, Little Killer?” I paced slowly forward, telling her, “I’m going to pin you down, rip your fucking clothes off, and fuck you so hard you’ll be begging, but it won’t be for me to stop, it’ll be for more.” I kept walking forward, following the cries. “Are you ready for that? Are you ready to take my big cock in every fucking hole so many times you pass out? To feel my hands holding you down, covering your mouth so you can’t scream. Are you ready to submit to me like the filthy slut you are?”
My heart was beating fast, thumping against my ribs like it wanted to burst free. My cock was hard, and I was aching to find her, catch her and pin her to the floor, the wall, I didn’t fucking care, I just needed to be inside her.
And then I turned the corner, and I found her...
Curled in a ball.
Her head in her hands as she whimpered.
And when she lifted her head to look in my direction, the pain of utter terror on her face nearly fucking broke me.
I pressed the remote to turn the lights on and went to her, crouching down and pulling her into my arms.
“It’s okay. You’re okay,” I told her. “Remember I said to trust me. I’d never hurt you.”
She couldn’t speak, she was sobbing so hard, so I picked her up, carrying her in my arms out of the maze to a back room where I usually sat when I was playing games of a different kind.
There was a small sofa in the corner, and I laid her on it, stroking her hair and trying to calm her as best I could.
“What’s happened?” I asked, knowing full well this reaction wasn’t normal. “Why are you so frightened? You know me, Abigail. You know I’d never hurt you.”
She was starting to calm down, but her breaths were still ragged, and she shook like a leaf.
“I... I want... I need... to go home.”
I felt like my whole body was shredded from the inside. Like someone had taken the sharpest grater and sliced every inch of me until there was nothing but pain. I’d have done anything for her. If anyone else had hurt her, I’d have cut their throat to make them bleed, then sliced their chest open and cracked their ribs apart. Ripped the heart from the chest and thrown it at her feet while it was still beating. And even that wouldn’t have been enough to avenge the things that’d been done to her.
But what could I do now?
How could I fix this when the person who’d hurt her was me?
Chapter Forty-Three
ABIGAIL
Ihad spent years fighting my demons. The fact that they still had their filthy claws in me made me angry, indignant, and scared that I’d never be free.
What was supposed to be a primal game of cat and mouse had twisted my brain, making it a fight for survival. The voice that shouted hadn’t been a voice I recognised at first, and then, as my mind started to play tricks, it became his voice. Not Isaiah’s.
The beating rain and the flashes of lightning fucked with my senses. It had rained that night too. I’d never forget how it pelted my skin as I tore through the woods to get away.
And then there were the threats.
The things they were going to do to me.
Not Isaiah.
Them.
Isaiah carried me away from it all. He brought me into a room that was light and bright, a lot warmer than the halls I’d run for my life through. And when he stroked my hair and told me it was all going to be okay, I believed him. He brought me back.
He didn’t use his bike to take me home. He had a small car parked nearby that he used. I was thankful for that. I just wanted to curl up in the seat next to him and try to will the ghosts away.
