Corrupted (3 page)

CHAPTER FIVE

Walking through the doors of Damon's home I am instantly surprised.  It is not how I pictured a bachelor pad. The decor is light and welcoming. I’ve never managed to get inside the house before. Only as close as the windows.

I wait while he takes his shoes off, places his keys on table, lifts my suitcase and pulls me along by my hand. I follow him up the wide set of stairs to a landing that has a number of doors. He directs me to the second door and leads me inside.

It
is not what I was expecting at all. The room is decorated in a pale yellow and there is a huge king-size four-poster bed that is covered in a white bed sheet with yellow flowers. It is feminine, homey and relaxing.  There is a walk-in closet as big as my bedroom. Damon sets down my suitcase, and turning on his heel he directs me towards the bathroom that has a white roll top bath in the centre. A massive walk in shower with several shower heads that are positioned to hit every inch of you.

I walk into the room
, running my fingers over the bath. I can feel Damon's eyes on my back, burning into my skin. I turn and look at him over my shoulder.

“Why don’t you go unpack, run yourself a bath and settle in? I have some work to do
. When you’re hungry or wanting some company, I’ll be in my office.” With that he turns and walks out of the room closing the door behind him.

I turn on the faucet and walk to the closet to unpack my things. I look at the items I carefully selected to seduce Damon. I want him to be only thinking
only of me.

Reaching into the bag my hand hits the diary. I carry it with me at all times. I’ve read it so many times over the past three years, I know the words on each page as if they were my own, and every word I read is a slash to my heart. I run my fingers over the cover before opening it to the first page, the words no longer making me feel sad, only adding fuel to my already blazing rage.

Dec 21st 2010

Today I was at a PR event. Damon had asked for me to be there. He’s gorgeous. Just looking at him took my breath away, as it did most women, but he knew it.

He stood with a beautiful, but fake blonde draped on his arm. I knew it was all for show
. He had told me I was beautiful. He just needs some time until we can tell everyone the truth and we can finally be together. I smiled as I went and stood next to him. He returned my smile before turning back to the person he was speaking to, keeping up pretences. It won’t be long until we can finally be together. Damon Hunt is mine. Life is good!

I close the diary, putting it back into my bag and hiding it at the back of the closet. Every little manipulative thing Damon Hunt has ever done to Lydia is hidden within her words. I know this man’s game better than anyone.

I take my toiletries to the bathroom and start to run a bath, adding vanilla scented bath lotion. I undress and look at myself in the full length mirror,
I’m not conceited but I know I look good. My mahogany hair hangs in curls down my back. It costs a lot of money to keep it looking this good. My figure is what you would call hourglass, I curve in all the right places. I know men lust after me, that is fortunate. It’s made catching my prey easier in the past, making everything a whole lot easier.

Slipping into the bath I feel my muscles relax as the hot water soothes all the tension inside me, easing the stiff posture aches that I have been holding in since the moment Damon turned up at my door.  I need to get my head back in the game, and this is a game. O
ne I don’t plan on losing, no matter what the cost. Even if I lose myself in the process.

I move my head under the water, ho
lding my breath. It was a game Lydia and I used to play when we were young, seeing who could stay under and hold her breath the longest. Since the day she died that’s how I have lived my life, never coming up for air.

Fighting everyday to remember to just breathe. 

The grief I feel is still as raw as the day she died. I need it to be. I need to hold on to the pain. It’s my fuel; it’s getting me through each day. It’s my coping mechanism. The way I survive.

Raising my head out of the water, I wash myself down and step out of the bath tub. Reaching for a towel I dry myself off and slip into my comfy grey pants and off the shoulder sweater. My stomach begins to rumble and the realisation that I have not eaten anything since this morning sets in. Leaving the room I head for the kitchen to get some food. It takes me a while to find it but I get there eventually.

Walking into the kitchen I’m surprised to see Damon sitting at the counter eating a sandwich. He stands when I enter and gestures for me to join him. He has changed out of his suit jacket and shirt, and is now in just his slacks and a tank top. The muscles in his arm bulge as he reaches across the table and takes my hand in his, concern shining in his eyes. I don’t believe his concern. It’s all a lie. Everything about him is a lie.

“Are you ok? Are you hungry? I can make you something.” His smile is breathtaking and for a second I could feel my resolve slip so I pull my hand out of his and answer his question

“A sandwich is fine, thanks,” I lift my eyes to look at him which is a mistake on my part. The hunger darkening his eyes causes my insides to flutter. Pure lust fills my body and floods me to the core. I can remember how his hands felt on me. I can see his face as I close my eyes, hear his voice and the noises he makes as he comes.

He moves around the counter and stands behind me. Brushing my hair
to the side, he bends and places a kiss to my shoulder sending shivers through me. I’m not sure if it was from repulsion or lust. I pull away reaching for his sandwich and take a bite, breaking the tightly-strained sexual tension.

He moves away from me, hiding his emotions. Not fast enough. They were written all over his face. I am affecting him. Good. It means my plan is working. I still have control of the situation. I place his sandwich down on the plate and make an excuse of tiredness to escape to the guest room. 

When I get back to my room I close the door tightly behind me, sliding down as my knees give way. Suddenly my appetite has gone, my resolve slipping. That was close. He had taken me by surprise. I couldn’t let it happen again. I won’t let it happen again.

CHAPTER SIX

I crawl into bed but I know sleep won’t come easy. I have too many emotions swirling around my mind. My body reacts to this
disgusting man like our bodies are made for each other. He brings out feelings in me that I haven’t allowed myself to feel for a long time.

I hate the man. He is every bit of pain I have ever felt.

If I hate him so much, why do I want his touch? It’s wrong on so many levels to want his hands on me, his body pressed against me, his cock deep inside me. The last three days I have been plotting every step I need to take in order to break Damon.

I would be lying if I didn’t admit that I also spent the same amount of time in those three days recalling my night in Damon’s arms. How it felt to let him take over, how much he could make a woman want to stay in his bed forever. His hands on my body felt like they knew exactly what to do
, like he had touched me a million times before.

It
is easy to remember my hate when I have thoughts like that. Of course he would know how to pleasure a woman. He’s had years of doing nothing but manipulating them until they love him so much they can’t live without him.

I have to cling to that hate and repulsion I feel for him. I need to remember why I’ve spend three years obsessing over this man. If I don’t, I’m afraid that I could be the next number in a long line who have fallen victim to Damon Hunt’s games.

I won’t let that happen though. I am stronger than to let him break me. I have worked hard to get to where I am and I plan to use every skill I’ve learnt along the way to play him at his own game. And win.

I turn over and sigh into my pillow. I wish Lydia was here. She would help me get my head on straight. She would give me the words I need now to go through with this. Damon has shown me sides I didn’t expect. Tender moments on our night together
, gentle touches to reassure me since he’s thought my home was invaded. It doesn’t add up.

I lean over to grab the diary out my bag on the floor. I plan to follow every move Damon makes and always know his next step. I know that he will try to hook me. He’ll make me feel special and wanted. He’ll make me need his touch.

I’m going to let him think he is working his magic but really I’ll be working mine. I’ll be making him need me too. Making him want my touch. I just hope I’m strong enough to not get caught up in his caresses and forget my real objective for allowing him to touch me in the first place.

I open the diary to one of the first entries Damon starred in. It was her first day at a new job
and she was so excited.
Singing whilst she got ready. The increased wages she would be getting from starting work at Hunt Enterprises would allow us extra freedom to buy more than just the essentials each week. There would be enough money left over to save, enough to enjoy a few nights out here and there, and enough to get our nails done. Everything we hadn’t been able to do before. Her new job was to be the personal assistant of Damon Hunt. Owner of Hunt Enterprises.

November 22nd 2010

Today I started working for Damon Hunt. WOW. Damon Hunt is HOT!!!

I can’t believe how gorgeous he is. Of course I knew he was one of the sexiest men in the business world. Most people did but I’d done my research. I wanted this job soooo bad. I learnt everything I could about Hunt Enterprises, and the owner, for the interview. I’d seen pictures of him but, my God, he is better in real life.

I hadn’t met him until today.

I want him. That man has to be mine. I know he likes me. I saw the way he was looking at me.

I guess only time will tell but I know he’ll want me eventually. I have to taste Damon Hunt.

Happy days!!!

I let myself cry for the first time since I buried Lydia in the ground. I’ve blocked off my emotions all this time but now justice is so close I can’t keep hold on them. I need this grief I’ve held back to keep me strong now. I need to let the pain fill me so I remember why I’m going to break Damon Hunt.

I snuggle into the covers and cry myself to sleep
, letting the loneliness take over, feeling all the emotions I’ve kept locked away. Hidden from.

Tomorrow I will seduce Damon in the best way I’ve learnt.

CHAPTER SEVEN

A knock on the door pulls me away from my homework. I stretch my back and look at the clock on the oven: 9.40pm. Wow, I’ve been at my homework for hours. The time has flown by. I bet that’s Lydia, I bet she’s forgot her keys... again. I roll my eyes and make my way down the hall, towards the front door. I start to speak before I see who it is.

“Miss forgetful strikes ag...” I stop when my eyes clash with two police officers. What the hell? My brow creases
. The police don’t just make house calls around here for no reason. Something must have gone off close by. “Hello, sorry about that. Can I help you?” my manners kick in.

“Miss Knight, my name is PC Stephens and my partner is PC Dixon. Can we come in?” What has Lydia done? My eyes widen as my heart drops to my stomach. She knows my name. My pulse spe
eds up. She’s here for a reason, is my first thought but then I look at her face for the first time and see pity. I swallow hard. Oh my god, what’s happened?

My eyes move between each officer’s face trying to find answers. “Miss Knight, if we could please come in?” PC Dixon says in a brisk voice. I feel numb. I take a step back and pull the door open to let them in before walking off down to the kitchen, manners forgotten. I need to sit down. I feel like I’m going to be sick.

PC Dixon stays just past the threshold of the door, his tall frame seems to take up the whole room he’s so large. PC Stephens comes and takes a seat beside me, scraping the wooden chair across the floor. The noise it makes would usually make me cringe but my mind isn’t paying any attention to anything other than the fear raging around inside me.

I’ve heard of the expression sick to the stomach but I’m past that sickness. I feel sick to the throat. My insides are coiled tight, fear keeping my body on high alert. “What’s this about?” I eventually ask.

“Ella, may I call you Ella?” PC Stephens asks politely. I nod my head unable to speak. “Ella, are you here alone? Is there someone we could call?”

The sympathy in her voice rings out loud and clear. Oh fuck, this is bad. Oh god, oh god, oh god. What the hell has happened? My heart feels like it going to pound right out of my chest, split me open, and I’ll bleed out. I already know it’s going to hurt. Whatever they’ve come to tell me isn’t good news. I can see that just by looking at PC Stephens
’ face.

“My sister is out but she’ll be back any second. She’s left her phone here. I could call my dad, he’s at work but he’ll come home. I’m sure of it
,” I ramble on, trying to delay the pain I know is coming. They share a look with each before both looking anywhere but at me. That’s when I know. I know it’s my pops or Lydia.

Oh god please let them be ok. Please. My eyes fill with tears. I don’t even try to stop them. My breath comes out in short pants. Please don’t let it be bad. Please let it all be ok. I swallow past my constricted throat.

“Who?” I ask. My voice wavers as PC Stephens eyes shoot to mine. “Who?” I whisper. I suck in a lungful of air and hold it, preparing myself for the hit. PC Stephens hand comes to clasp mine. My vision blurs as the tears spill over.

“Ella.” The pain in her voice in just that one word is enough to knock the wind out my lungs. “There’s been an accident.” I stand, pulling my hand away from hers, and back away from her. If everything is going to be ok
ay then why are they not taking me to my family? Why are we still here talking? It hits me like a sledgehammer to the chest.

“Who?” I ask again. My body is shutting down, trying to block the pain away. Who have I lost? A sob tears from my throat as I back away from both the officers until I hit the back wall. “Who have I lost?” I scream. Why are they acting so normal? Why aren’t they saying anything?

“Miss Knight. Take a seat and we’ll talk,” PC Dixon says in a no nonsense voice. I shake my head at him. How can he be so aloof at a time like this? I don’t want to sit the hell down! I just want to know what’s happening.

“Who?” I repeat in a dead voice. I won’t break until I know who I’ve lost. I need to hear it. I swallow nervously not knowing which name will hurt me to hear the most.  “Who?... please just... just tell me... please.” I say in a small voice. I won’t be able to hold back much longer. My whole body is shaking
. Sobs are trying to tear from me, but I hold them back. My heart is aching, ready to feel the cut of words I’m about to receive, ready to bleed out.

“Ella. Your father was in an accident. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” I don’t hear anything else she has to say. My knees give way and I sink to the cold, tiled kitchen floor below. It can’t be true. It can’t.

“No, no, no, no.” I deny shaking my head. “No. NO, NO, NO” I scream. The pain in my heart is soul crushing. I can’t have lost my pops. Why? Why did he have to go? No. It can’t be true. Please God let this be a dream. I’m not ready to say goodbye. I need him.

Tears stream down my face at the thought of never seeing my dad again. No more smiles. No more laughs. No more hugs. No more daddy. I wail out. I don’t want him to go. The little girl inside me still needs her daddy. The sixteen year old I am now needs her daddy.

“No, God please no. Why? Whhhy?” I scream out. How could this happen? I only saw him this morning. He kissed me goodbye. The pain at my loss is so intense I hyperventilate. I‘m breathing so hard that my lungs burn. Strangled sobs pour from my mouth. 

Each of PC Stephens’ words was like a knife to my heart. I’m bleeding out my pain in tears but it does nothing to lessen the agony I’m feeling. Nothing to help me feel better. My wails cut off as I choke. Snot runs down my face but I don’t care. I’ve lost my daddy. The only man who has ever loved me. The only person to ever take care of me. What will I do without him?

My brain becomes aware of Lydia holding me and trying to sooth me with her words but it doesn’t work. It doesn’t take away the greatest pain I’ve ever felt.        

I wake with a start, sweat coating my body. My face is damp with tears I’ve cried in my sleep
and I shiver from the cold air clinging to my dampened skin. Seeing Lydia covered in all that blood is a regular nightmare for me but the dream of the night I lost my pops hurts more, even after all these years. The dreams are so real. Sometimes it takes me a while when I wake to realise how long ago I actually lost him. I will never forget that date – September 13
th
2006.

My body shakes as the
remnants of my nightmare cling to my mind, trying to let the agony take over. I slow my breathing until I know I’m back in control and that pain is safely locked away in the back of my head.

I don’t remember my mum. Lydia always said mum left because she couldn’t cope with having children. I know it was really because she couldn’t cope with me. She stayed when it was just Lydia but left soon after I was born. That’s all I needed to know. I’ve never looked for her
, never wanted to.

She was the first person to leave me. When pops died in a car accident it wasn’t just losing my dad, I lost my only parent. Losing Lydia made me realise I’m not made to be loved. Everyone leaves me eventually. I’m unlovable.

The dreams always have one good thing about them, they always strengthen my hate. I can block my emotions off when I remember the pain I felt each time someone else left me. The dreams always help me see with clarity. My objective becomes clearer and the end feels close. Breaking Damon is my only objective in life now. I’m not sure what I’ll do once I finally get revenge for my sister.

I take a deep breath, letting the oxygen spread through my body before I release it. I need a clear head. Today I start my mind games. Today I’m going to make Damon want me.

I close my eyes and smile. Today will be the start of my everything.

My room is still dark. The clock says its 5:45am. It’s Tuesday and I still don’t have a dress for the National Suicide Prevention Line charity event yet. It’s still early so I nestle back down under the warm comfortable blanket and try to settle back to sleep.