Anna Zaires - Twist Me

Kidnapped. Taken to a private island.

I never thought this could happen to me. I never imagined one chance meeting on the eve of my eighteenth birthday could change my life so completely.

Now I belong to him. To Julian. To a man who is as ruthless as he is beautifula man whose touch makes me burn. A man whose tenderness I find more devastating than his cruelty.

My captor is an enigma. I dont know who he is or why he took me. There is a darkness inside hima darkness that scares me even as it draws me in.

My name is Nora Leston, and this is my story.

Warning: This is NOT a traditional romance. It contains disturbing subject matter, including themes of questionable consent and Stockholm Syndrome, as well as graphic sexual content. This is a work of fiction intended for a mature, 18+ audience only. The author neither endorses nor condones this type of behavior.

Blood.

Its everywhere. The pool of dark red liquid on the floor is spreading, multiplying. Its on my feet, my skin, my hair . . . I can taste it, smell it, feel it covering me. Im drowning in blood, suffocating in it.

No! Stop!

I want to scream, but I cant draw in enough air. I want to move, but Im restrained, tied in place, the ropes cutting into my skin as I struggle against them.

I can hear her screams, though. Inhuman shrieks of pain and agony that slice me open, leaving my mind as raw and mangled as her flesh.

He lifts the knife one last time, and the pool of blood turns into an ocean, the rip current sucking me in

I wake up screaming his name, my sheets soaked through with cold sweat.

For a moment, Im disoriented . . . and then I remember.

He will never come for me again.

Eighteen Months Earlier

Im seventeen years old when I first meet him.

Seventeen and crazy about Jake.

Nora, come on, this is boring, Leah says as we sit on the bleachers watching the game. Football. Something I know nothing about, but pretend I love because thats where I see him. Out there on that field, practicing every day.

Im not the only girl watching Jake, of course. Hes the quarterback and the hottest guy on the planetor at least in the Chicago suburb of Oak Lawn, Illinois.

Its not boring, I tell her. Football is a lot of fun.

Leah rolls her eyes. Yeah, yeah. Just go talk to him already. Youre not shy. Why dont you just make him notice you?

I shrug. Jake and I dont run in the same circles. Hes got cheerleaders climbing all over him, and Ive been watching him long enough to know that he goes for tall blond girls, not short brunettes.

Besides, for now its kind of fun to just enjoy the attraction. And I know thats what this feeling is. Lust. Hormones, pure and simple. I have no idea if Ill like Jake as a person, but I certainly love how he looks without his shirt. Whenever he walks by, I feel my heart beating faster from excitement. I feel warm inside, and I want to squirm in my seat.

I also dream about him. Sexy dreams, sensual dreams, where he holds my hand, touches my face, kisses me. Our bodies touch, rub against each other. Our clothes come off.

I try to imagine what sex with Jake would be like.

Last year, when I was dating Rob, we nearly went all the way, but then I found out he slept with another girl at a party while drunk. He groveled profusely when I confronted him about it, but I couldnt trust him again and we broke up. Now Im much more careful about the guys I date, although I know not all of them are like Rob.

Jake might be, though. Hes just too popular not to be a player. Still, if theres anybody Id want to have my first time with, its definitely Jake.

Lets go out tonight, Leah says. Just us girls. We can go to Chicago, celebrate your birthday.

My birthday is not for another week, I remind her, even though I know shes got the date marked on her calendar.

So what? We can get a head start.

I grin. Shes always so eager to party. I dont know. What if they throw us out again? Those IDs are just not that good

Well go to another place. It doesnt have to be Aristotle.

Aristotle is by far the coolest club in the city. But Leah was rightthere were others.

Okay, I say. Lets do it. Lets get a head start.

Leah picks me up at 9 p.m.

Shes dressed for clubbingdark skinny jeans, a sparkly black tube-top, and over-the-knee high-heeled boots. Her blond hair is perfectly smooth and straight, falling down her back like a highlighted waterfall.

In contrast, Im still wearing my sneakers. My clubbing shoes I hide in the backpack that I intend to leave in Leahs car. A thick sweater hides the sexy top Im wearing. No makeup and my long brown hair in a ponytail.

I leave the house like that to avoid any suspicion. I tell my parents Im going to hang out with Leah at a friends house. My mom smiles and tells me to have fun.

Now that Im almost eighteen, I dont have a curfew anymore. Well, I probably do, but its not a formal one. As long as I come home before my parents start freaking outor at least if I let them know where I amits all good.

Once I get into Leahs car, I begin my transformation.

Off goes the thick sweater, revealing the slinky tank-top I have on underneath. I wore a push-up bra to maximize my somewhat-undersized assets. The bra straps are cleverly designed to look cute, so Im not embarrassed to have them show. I dont have cool boots like Leahs, but I did manage to sneak out my nicest pair of black heels. They add about four inches to my height. I need every single one of those inches, so I put on the shoes.

Next, I pull out my makeup bag and pull down the windshield visor, so I can get access to the mirror.

Familiar features stare back at me. Large brown eyes and clearly defined black eyebrows dominate my small face. Rob once told me that I look exotic, and I can kind of see that. Even though Im only a quarter Latino, my skin always looks lightly tanned and my eyelashes are unusually long. Fake lashes, Leah calls them, but theyre entirely real.

I dont have a problem with my looks, although I often wish I were taller. Its those Mexican genes of mine. My abuela was petite and so am I, even though both of my parents are of average height. I wouldnt care, except Jake likes tall girls. I dont think he even sees me in the hallway; Im literally below his eye level.

Sighing, I put on lip gloss and some eye shadow. I dont go crazy with makeup because simple works best on me.

Leah cranks up the radio, and the latest pop songs fill the car. I grin and start singing along with Rihanna. Leah joins me, and now were both belting out S&M lyrics.

Before I know it, we arrive at the club.

We walk in like we own the place. Leah gives the bouncer a big smile, and we flash our IDs. They let us through, no problem.

Weve never been to this club before. Its in an older, slightly rundown part of downtown Chicago.

How did you find this place? I yell at Leah, shouting to be heard above the music.

Ralph told me about it, she yells back, and I roll my eyes.

Ralph is Leahs ex-boyfriend. They broke up when he started acting weird, but they still talk for some reason. I think hes into drugs or something these days. Im not sure, and Leah wont tell me out of some misplaced loyalty to him. Hes the king of shady, and the fact that were here on his recommendation is not super-comforting.

But whatever. Sure, the area outside is not the best, but the music is good and the crowd is a nice mix of people.

Were here to party, and thats exactly what we do for the next hour. Leah gets a couple of guys to buy us shots. We dont have more than one drink each. Leahbecause she has to drive us home. And mebecause I dont metabolize alcohol well. We may be young, but were not stupid.