Free Held by Kimberly A. Bettes Page A

myself to every man who wants me, now can I? That would make me no better than Stephanie.”
    Completely relaxed and back to the happy Ron that made a mean sandwich, he smiled and nodded. “That’s my girl. In time, I’m sure you’ll grow to want me as much as I want you. Then, it will be sweet.” He nodded at the spot where Stephanie’s body had been. “Until then, I’ll need someone to fill in.”

Chapter 13
     
    I watched as Ron walked across the basement to a utility sink. Hanging on the wall beside it was a yellow garden hose. He took it from its place, connected it to the faucet, and turned on the water. He walked across the room to me, stopping a few feet away from my mattress. I waited for him to come closer, but he didn’t.
    “You thirsty?” he asked.
    I nodded.
    He unscrewed the nozzle from the end of the hose. The water came out and fell to the floor in splatters.
    “Come and get it.”
    Handcuffed to the pipe, I couldn’t get far. I got up on my knees and leaned as far as I could toward him. It wasn’t far enough. I leaned farther, causing great pain to my right arm and wrist, which was twisted around behind me in an awkward position. Had I not been so damn thirsty, I would’ve told him to shove that hose up his ass.
    He pulled up on the hose quickly, creating an arc of water that hit my face. It was cold. Shockingly cold. I gasped, and then licked my lips, getting all the water I could.
    He laughed. I didn’t.
    Again, he jerked up on the hose and splashed my face. Again, I licked the water from my lips.
    “Nicole, if you want me to contain my passion for you, you really must stop acting so provocatively. You’re exciting me.”
    “Well maybe if you’d just give me a drink of water, this wouldn’t be a problem. And if you didn’t have me down here naked, maybe you could contain yourself more.”
    Smiling, he stepped forward and let me drink from the hose. I drank and drank until I thought I would throw up. I wanted to drink more then, but he walked away, taking the precious water with him.
    He twisted the nozzle back on the hose. Water came out, this time with pressure pushing it. As he began spraying the floor, washing away Stephanie’s blood, I scooted back against the wall. Drawing my legs up to cover my chest, I watched him work.
    “One of the reasons I bought this house was the drain in the basement floor. Very convenient, wouldn’t you say?”
    I didn’t answer.
    “I’m sure it’s there in case the washing machine overflows or leaks, but it is so handy for washing away blood. This house has paid for itself many times over with this drain. Money well spent.”
    I watched the dirt and blood slide across the floor and disappear down the drain. I wondered if one day, a woman would sit handcuffed to this very pipe and watch in fear as my blood swirled away down the drain.
    I felt drops of liquid fall from my face and hit my arm, and I wondered if it was tears or the water he’d sprayed on me.
    When he was finished cleaning the floor, he brought the hose back to me. I quickly got up on my knees again, begging for water. This time, when he unscrewed the nozzle, he let the water pour down on me, running down my chin, my breasts, my belly, and dripping onto the floor and the mattress.
    He squatted down in front of me and watched the water run over my chest. I didn’t care. I was drinking as much as I could while what I couldn’t drink ran down my body. If he wanted to watch, that was his problem.
    Even when he reached out and cupped my breast, I ignored him and continued to drink the disgusting, rubbery tasting water.
    Finally, he stood up. “If I don’t find someone to fill in for you quickly, you’re going to have to learn to want me.” He reached into his pants and adjusted himself before turning and walking away, taking the hose back to its spot on the wall.
    As he was leaving the basement, he stopped at the foot of the mattress. “I’m going to dispose of this trash. I’ll