Scarlett Edwards - Uncovering You: The Contract

There are a few time jumps at the beginning of the book that some readers might find confusing. Keep an eye on the dates beneath the chapter headings to help your bearings.

The important thing to know is that the prologue takes place in the future; that is, it gives a glimpse of things to come. Chapter One begins the story in the present, from the persepctive of the main character, in October 2013.

(December 21st, 2014)

“Lilly. Lilly, wake up.”

No answer.

“Lilly.” A hushed command. “Goddamn you, Lilly, get up!”

No answer.

“Don’t leave me. Don’t do this. Not now. Not now. GET UP!”

No answer.

~~~

(Twenty-four hours earlier - December 20th, 2014)

Something cool and wet is brought to my lips. A liquid, thick like oil yet sweet like honey.

A motherly voice whispers in my ear. “Slowly now, Miss Ryder. Your body’s still weak. Small sips, like a hummingbird.”

Water. It’s water. A drop of it gets in my mouth.

“Just like that,” the kind woman encourages. “Just like that. Oh, Mr. Stonehart is going to be so pleased!”

Hearing his vile name jolts me. I clamp my lips shut, cutting off the trickle of life-giving nectar.

“Miss Ryder, please. Please drink. Please, don’t stop. Oh, Miss Ryder…”

The old woman’s sobs are lost as darkness regains its hold.

~~~

(Two weeks earlier - December 6th, 2014)

His lustful grunts fill my ears.

“Yes,” I beg. “Yes. Give it to me like that. Just like that. Faster. Faster!”

Jeremy complies, doubling the speed of his thrusts into me. I feel the breaking point looming. I need to hold it off. Just a little longer.

I grasp his hair and pull his lips to mine, devouring his mouth with my greedy kiss. I know Jeremy hates it when I take control. But logic is lost in the heat of the moment. There will be consequences later. Right now, I don’t care.

“Lilly. Lilly, I’m going to come…” Jeremy’s words die, replaced by a primal roar that is ripped from his throat as he shoots into me. My body accepts readily. Just like I’ve learned to do, I let the climax wash over me. My core clenches around his cock and shuddery convulsions rock my body.

~~~

(Six months earlier - June 2014)

In the dark, I lose all sense of time.

My sleep is thin. My wakefulness is misery.

A vague longing grows deep inside me. The need for submission. A natural willingness ground into me by the madness taking hold of my mind. I feel it rising. The demonic form consumes me from the womb, sapping my strength, and breaking my resolve.

A cry—no, a scream—rings out in the cold furnace of the night. My head jerks toward the sound.

Is it even night? I don’t know.

I am so tired. I am so lonely. I am breaking, and madness is taking hold.

It’s times like this that the animalistic urge to give in becomes nigh insatiable…

(Present day - October 2013)

A faint hiss, like the sound of an angry cat, jars me from my sleep.

I open my eyes to pure blackness. I blink, trying to get my bearings. A vague memory forms in the back of my mind, too far away to reach.

Why can’t I see anything?

My breath hitches. Panic rips through my body as the horrifying answer comes to me:

I’m blind!

I scramble onto hands and knees and desperately claw at the dark, searching for something, anything, for my senses to latch onto.

A dim light comes on overhead.

Relief swells inside.

I plop onto my butt and close my eyes, taking deep breaths to dispel the rush of adrenaline released by my body. When my heart’s not beating quite so fast, I open my eyes again.

The light’s gotten brighter. I look up at the source. It’s far above me, like a dull, miniature sun. It spreads a little sphere maybe ten feet in diameter. Past that, everything is swallowed by darkness.

An irksome memory keeps gnawing at me. But my head is too heavy to remember. I feel… strange. Kind of like I’m hung over, but without the telltale pounding between my ears.

Cautiously, I try to stand. My limbs are slow to react. They feel heavy, too, like they’ve been dipped in wet clay.

I steady myself. Only when I’m satisfied that my knees won’t give out, do I strain my ears for that hissing sound again.

It’s coming from somewhere behind me. I turn back—and nearly smash my head against a gleaming white pillar.

What the hell?

The sound is forgotten as I reach out and brush tentative fingers against the pillar’s surface. It’s cool to the touch. Smooth, too.

I put my other hand on it. If I had to guess, I’d say it was made of marble. But what is a lone, white marble pillar doing in the middle of this room?

The memory is like a gong going off inside my head. Trying to reach it is like grasping at a smooth, slippery stone at the bottom of an aquarium. Just when I think I have it, it slips through my fingers and falls further out of reach.

I walk a slow, measured circle around the pillar. If I tried wrapping my arms around it, I doubt they would span half the circumference.

Something far in the back of my mind tells me I should be alarmed. I look behind me and frown. By what? A dark room?

No, you idiot. By the reason you’re here!

My eyes widen. The reason I’m here? I don’t… I don’t remember.

I wince and bring one hand to my temple. Why am I having so much trouble remembering?

I gasp as a second gruesome thought hits me. Did I lose my memory? Do I have… amnesia?

I sink down with my back to the pillar. Desperation starts to take over. I hold my head between my knees and close my eyes to focus.

My name is Lilly Ryder. I was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts, on May 17th, 1990.

My eyes pop open. Joyous tears form in the corners. I do remember! I take a deep breath and try to keep going.

I was raised by my mom. I do not know my dad…

Suddenly, all my childhood memories come streaming back. Moving around as a kid. Never staying in one place longer than six months. All the cities I’ve lived in. All the apartments my mom and I called home. Even the revolving door of her boyfriends in my teens. There was Dave, and Matthew. Tom, and Steve. There was…

I shake my head to stop myself. I don’t doubt my memory anymore.

But that still does not explain why I have absolutely no recollection of this place, or how I got here.

I push myself back up. The spotlight above me has gotten progressively brighter. The little enclosure of light doesn’t feel quite so tight anymore. I trail my eyes up the length of the pillar. I can’t see where it ends because of the light. But I can tell it’s tall, at least twenty, maybe twenty-five feet…

There’s also something about its surface that calls out to me. My hands itch to run over the smooth stone. A giggle bubbles up as I picture myself stroking it. The column is quite phallic.

I waver at the unfamiliar thought and have to catch my balance against the beam.

Focus, Lilly! I chide myself.

I have no idea where that thought came from. I have never been overtly sexual.

Nothing feels right. The fog that’s heavy on my mind is starting to lift, but not enough for me to understand—or remember—where the hell I am. This place is unfamiliar. I know that much. But right now, I feel like a surgery patient whose anesthetic kinked out: fully awake mentally, but completely impaired physically.

I go back to my memories. I can remember high school. I remember college. That’s where I spent the last three years of my life, isn’t it? Yes. Yes, it is.

“Hello?” I call out. My voice echoes into the surrounding gloom. “Is anybody there?”

I wait for an answer. All I get is the hollow repetition of my own voice.

…anybody there, there, there…

I spent the last three years in college… but that’s not where I think I am right now. No. I shake my head. I know that’s not where I am. My memories are fuzzier the closer I bring them to today. Time feels… skewed. Freshman year’s easy to remember. So is sophomore, and most of junior… but things get weird toward the end.

I… finished junior year, didn’t I? Yes. Yes, I did. And then…

And then I took an internship in distant California for the summer, I remember with another gasp.

Suddenly, my mind is crystal clear. That pressing memory hurtles into view. It’s from yesterday. The last thing I recall, I was alone in a booth at an upscale restaurant. The waiter brought me a glass of wine. I took a few sips, contemplating my future….

Oh, God! Fear wraps a stranglehold around my neck.

The restaurant. The wine.

I’ve been drugged!

I can’t breathe. A suppressing tightness constricts my throat. I feel dizzy, and terrified, and most of all… ashamed.