Explicit Instruction (4 page)

‘You think she’s lily white?’
Shiv exclaimed. ‘Bet she’s a dirty, little slut.’

‘You’re not gonna find that out,’ Rush
e said.

Having practically inhaled the food
, Flick only had a few bites left when Rushe stormed to her and yanked her up out of the seat he’d not long ago thrown her into.

‘Move,’ Rushe said.

Flick lost her footing but his grip kept her upright. By the time he got her back to the bedroom he was practically carrying her.

He bange
d the door and chucked her down on the bed. The shirt bunched at her waist in her fall, and Flick tugged it down while trying to regain her composure. When she turned, a damp towel landed in her face.

‘You’ve got three minutes,’ Rushe stated.

‘Three... for what?’

‘Move.’

But she didn’t. ‘Rushe—‘

‘If I’ve been fucking you all
night you need a shower – move.’

‘You’re annoyed
,’ she said, casting the towel aside.

‘Get up,’ he demanded and reached for her
, but Flick pulled away from him.

‘You’re really irritated
, what upset you?’

‘I’m not upset.
Men like me don’t get upset. I’m not one of your pretty boys, Red!’

‘You’re shouting at me,’ she said
, crawling to the edge of the bed and hooking her hand into his jeans pocket to draw him closer. ‘Why are you shouting?’

‘Damn you,’ he growled
, snatching her arm and pulling her off the bed.

Flick
didn’t have her balance so she collapsed to the floor but Rushe still had her in his grip so he wrenched her up, and while holding the damp towel in one hand he dragged her out of the bedroom.

He pulled her across the floor
and through the door next to theirs. Rushe hurled her forward into a dirty shower stall with a black mildew covered shower curtain. Seconds later a slew of icy water cascaded over her. Flick shrieked while trying to scramble out, but his legs got in her way.

‘Do you want me to strip you down and scrub you myself?’ he hollered
, and shoved her back under the water using his knee.

Fumbling her way up the wall
, Flick managed to push the wet curtains of her hair out of her eyes. Against the wall she shivered and blinked her webbed lashes at the broad, invincible form of Rushe. A foot higher than her, he blocked her only exit with a hand on either side of the stall.

The ferocity in his
manner was anger and as she stared up into those growling bullet eyes, she realised they hadn’t made direct eye contact until now. Flick knew it because everything about him screamed danger; intimidation radiated off him, and she should be terrified given the circumstances and his stance – but she wasn’t.

Everything about him was
brutish; from the way he handled her and spoke to her, to everything in his mood. But whatever anger he had inside him, it wasn’t aimed at her.

‘Thank you,’ she murmured and his rigidity faltered.

Flick reached through the water and drew the curtain across in front of him, blocking him out. She took off the now soaked shirt and hung it up over the curtain rail. The water heated slightly and she sorted through various bottles on the narrow shelf of the frosted window ledge seeking out the one that smelled like Rushe.

When she found it she lathered up, washing her body, and her hair. Rinsing quickly she shut off the water and a towel came over the curtain rail in place of the shirt that had been whipped away.

Despite being naked she hadn’t been in much of a hurry to finish her shower. Flick had known that Rushe remained in the room, and he wouldn’t intrude upon her. But he stood sentry and no one would get through him, of that she was sure.

Slipping
the towel down from the rail Flick wrapped it around herself and pulled the curtain aside. Sure enough Rushe stood next to the door, arms folded and ankles crossed, the growl hadn’t left his expression. If anything, more clouds had gathered above him.

Flick
tiptoed toward him. Rushe yanked open the door and didn’t touch her when she passed. Skeeve and Glen were loitering – clearly hoping for a peek – but she went straight into Rushe’s room.

The door closed and he barged her aside to yank a tee-shirt from his drawer
, which he threw backwards at her, then stormed into the corner keeping his back to her.

Quickly drying off
, Flick trusted him not to peek. But this was his space she’d intruded upon, and it wouldn’t be right to take liberties. She put on the tee-shirt, then tossed the towel to the floor at his feet to show that she was finished.

Rushe turned and kicked it across to her crumpled dress. ‘Get on the bed,’ he grumbled.

Flick sat down on the edge and watched him retrieve a length of twine from the ball he had in the bottom drawer. Grabbing her, he pulled her the width of the bed like she weighed the same as the pillow.

‘Please don’t bind me,’ she said
, but he wound it around her wrist. ‘Please Rushe.’

When Flick r
ested her hand on his corded forearm, he stopped to examine the contact like he was a puzzled dog. Remaining static for more than a few seconds, he shook off his confusion and carried on with the twine.

‘I’m heading into town.’

‘You’re leaving?’ she asked. Her newly found confidence in her guardian faltered. ‘For how long?’

‘Don’t know,’ he responded without moving his lips
while he finished attaching her to the bedpost.

‘Please, please don’t do this Rushe,’ she begged. ‘You can’t leave me here. If you leave me with them...’

‘No one will touch you.’

‘But this morning—‘

‘You belong to me,’ he said grabbing her chin and hauling her up onto her knees. ‘As long as you are here, you’re my property. You do what you’re told, and we won’t have any issues.’

‘They scare me,’ she said. ‘The minute you walk out that door they’ll...’ She didn’t want to give voice to her concerns, the vivid images of what might be flashed in her mind’s eye.

‘You’re learning.’

‘I can’t trust them. Please don’t leave me here with them
, Rushe.’

The mild pain caused by his fingers curled tightly around her chin was nothing to what was behind his anger. Something in Rushe hurt, t
he brutality was a mask but she didn’t know what for.

‘Will you defend yourself?
’ he asked her with his jaw set. ‘If you see that handle move you shoot.’

‘Rushe,’ she whispered. ‘Please don’t leave me here with them.’

His jaw tick and his nasal inhale highlighted his impatience. ‘Fine,’ he barked.

With his
concession, she expected to be released from the restraint but he backed away, leaving her alone in the middle of the bed.

Very slowly his gaze slid down her body but it paused at her chest. Of their own volition her nipples hardened
. Feeling the cool cascade over them, Flick realised the wetness of her hair had wet the material through, but she didn’t check, in fact she didn’t move.

The important thing in this moment was showing him she wouldn’t cower under his scrutiny. While any interest from the other lodgers repulsed her
, being under examination of Rushe made her centre swell in a way she’d never known before.

Her body’s response to him was instant instinct
, and she couldn’t explain it because Flick hadn’t known a man like him; so strong, so savage, so masculine.

‘No one touches what’s mine,’ he growled to himself more than to her
, and the ache in her breasts grew.

‘Rushe,’ she whispered and being bound to the bed had never been so restrictive
as it was at present.

‘We’ll all clear out.’

Flick desperately wanted him to come to her, though she didn’t know why. His height, his strength, and his machismo made him a force to be reckoned with. But from the second their eyes had met in the shower she’d seen something else, a vulnerability that she knew he’d never admit to.

Rushe didn’t come to
her; he went straight past her, out the door, and corralled the others despite their audible complaints. The main door eventually closed and then they were gone.

Flick settled onto her back and
considered events of the last twenty-four hours through her mind. This experience was surreal, and when she thought of how terrified she’d been last night she knew the only thing that saved her from the horror the others wanted to expose her to was him.

He who stepped in and protected her, clothed her, fed her, bathed her;
who gave her tips for survival, lied to his colleagues for her, and conceded to her fear.

Rushe wasn’t like the others
, but that didn’t mean she had any better handle on him. Flick didn’t know what was going to happen, or if she would get out of this. The only thing she could be sure of was that as long as Rushe was on her side she would be alright.

Being stuck in one place gave Flick little to do
. She had no range of movement, so all she could do was lie and stare at the ceiling. Flick thought more about her family, and the incidents which had led to their estrangement.

Flick
often got bored with the banality of some of the tasks she had to do at work, but working with books, with information, was the only thing she’d ever loved. No one was at work this weekend but Flick imagined when her colleagues got back to the library, and she didn’t show up, gossip would start. Foot traffic at the library where she worked was regular, and some of the same faces popped up regularly, but no one that she was particularly close to.

Since she and her family had parted ways Flick hadn’t been close to anyone. She was personable enough, and could shoot the breeze with the best of them
, but none of that meant anything. Flick reacted, she reacted to situations rather than being proactive about shaping them with her actions. She would coast along from task to task at work thankful at the variety she got with the different subjects she had to research.

One week she could b
e gathering information about a gruesome crime, or a starlet’s biography, the next week she could be researching wars, mysteries, or epic historical romances. Sure, sometimes she was stuck with the history of a gnat but other times Flick would get swept along with the words and see herself there, in the ancient world, or on the distant planet or... Imagining another time and another place was easy, but seeing her own future clearly was more difficult.

Flick liked to believe that if she was sure of something then she would go out and get it, fight for what she wanted. The trouble she faced was that she didn’t know what that passion was. It was difficult to shape your future, your environment, when you didn’t know what you wanted it to look like. So she coasted along hoping to stumble
upon it.

Except now she found herself here, tied to this bed, in this remote location, with no certainty that she had any future at all.
At some point after that haunting thought Flick must have drifted off to sleep.

With no way to measure the passage of time because her watch had been destroyed in the shower,
when the rowdy noises jarred her awake Flick had no idea if she’d been on this bed for ten minutes, or ten hours.

Not long after
the initial racket disturbed her the bedroom door opened, and she’d never been so glad to see a person. Flick recognised Rushe’s silhouette from the night before. Now that he was here, it didn’t matter how rowdy the others were.

He closed the door
and came straight to her. Clicking on the lamp, he took a seat on the bed at her side. Flick recoiled and mewed in protest of the illumination, but at least tonight she had one free hand to shade her eyes.

A large paper bag was dumped on her stomach and he leaned over again to free her.

‘What’s this?’ she asked on a yawn.

Rushe left her side while
rifling through a paper bag of his own. Flick sat up and opened the bag he’d given her. She found underwear and jeans, clothes that would cover her up and she was glad of the denim barrier it would create for the others.

W
hen she got past the clothes Flick found toiletries like soap, and a toothbrush. She found antiseptic cream, and two bottles, antibiotics and...

‘This is the morning after pill,’ she said of the other bottle.

‘Yeah,’ he said dropping his bag to the floor and kicking it under the bed. ‘There’s water in that bag and food enough to last you a few days. I also got...’ Reaching behind himself he took something from his back pocket and held it up. Handcuffs. ‘These won’t cut you, there’s meds in the bag, and bandages, a first aid kit—‘

‘You’re going
to leave me,’ she said. Flick’s earlier panic paled into insignificance against this. ‘You’re going to leave me here to them. Why? Why Rushe? What did I do? Where are you going?’