If I Can't Have You, No One Can.

[Name] shot Matthew a look, a cross between disgusted, quizzical and hopeful. It had been almost two weeks since Matthew drugged and kidnapped [Name] from the club. She was laying down on the bed in the attic, until Matthew came up the stairs and announced her little reward for her good behavior.

[Name] didn't consider it good behavior; she mostly stayed quiet and huddled in the corner, but she wasn't about to correct Matthew when he said that she was allowed to visit another area of the house.



[Name] asked, wincing at the sound of her own voice. It was dry and hoarse from a lack of talking. Matthew handed her a glass of water, which she drank from gratefully.



He smiled at her in a loving sort of way and brushed some of the tangled [h/c] locks behind [Name]'s ear and kissed her forehead; he didn't seem to notice the way [Name] flinched back, twice, when his skin came in contact with hers. [Name] watched Matthew's hands disappear from her face, down to her ankles, which were still shackled to the bed.

He unshackled her right ankle first, [Name] recoiled at the sight of it. She knew it was bad before, because after the first week, she wasn't able to walk without experiencing pain, the
skin was rubbed raw and bleeding, the dirt that covered her entire body didn't help either...

Her left ankle was about the same, she hadn't tried walking since she first discovered it was painful, and she didn't plan on starting now. Matthew dropped the shackles to the floor and picked [Name] up like she was a princess and carried her down the set of stairs that led to the attic.

She kept her eyes open and looked around the house as Matthew walked. There was a lot of nice, modern furniture mostly everything was either black or white or red. Matthew never showed her anything on the first floor, [Name] thought that he thought she might try and escape if she knew where the front door was.

The last place he showed her was his bedroom. There wasn't anything special about it. There was a large king-sized bed with heavy red blankets, two bedside tables, an armoire, a flat-screen television set mounted to the wall, a small bookshelf, and a winged armchair.



Matthew kissed her cheek, and left the room, shutting and locking the door behind him. For a few minutes, [Name] didn't move from her spot. She considered trying to pick the lock, but decided against it. For now, a nice hot bath sounded very welcoming.

The bathroom was just as nice as the bedroom, with double sinks, a stone shower and a Japanese soaking tub. [Name] made sure to lock the door before she ran the water for her bath and searched around the room for some towels and soaps.



Matthew hummed a little tune to himself as he scurried to the kitchen to check on the roasted chicken he was going to serve for dinner tonight. Alfred invited himself and Alice over for dinner, and, being the kind-hearted brother that he was, there was no way that Mathew could refuse.

Seeing that the chicken was cooking nicely, he started on the red roasted potatoes. It was five o'clock now, and Alfred and Alice would be over at around six thirty, Matthew needed to hurry and finish dinner so he could give some to [Name] before they arrived.

He really wished he could allow [Name] to eat with them, but he was a little bit scared of the reaction Alfred and Alice would have towards his girlfriend, it was just easier to keep her locked away, out of the sight of any other man.

She was Matthew's girlfriend and no one elses.



[Name] felt like a new person, the water in the bathtub was full of dirty water and her skin was pink from scrubbing too hard. Her hair was clean and still slightly damp, but she managed to get all the knots and tangles out. She searched the bedroom again, trying to open the windows and even trying to pick the lock on the door.

She couldn't do either. The only thing positive about being moved to this room, was that she now knew they were on Maple street, but she didn't know what town they were in, or if they were even in Canada anymore.

The sound of the lock clicking made [Name] dive into the winged arm chair and grab a book, opening to a random page to make it seem like she was reading. Matthew came in; he was smiling and holding the familiar tray with [Name]'s dinner on it.



He said in a sing-song voice, shutting the door with his foot. He looked at her and then frowned.

[center"What are you doing, dear?"

"I-I'm reading..."

[Name] responded a little nervously. Her palms were sweaty and shaking, her heart beating a mile a minute, she knew right away that Matthew didn't believe her, she knew more when he pointed out that the book in her hands was upside down.



It wasn't a question. He put down the tray of food and walked over to where [Name] was sitting. She flinched when he came close enough to touch her, but when he reached out, he took the curtain in his hands and felt the velvet material.



His eyes were slowly darkening from their soft amethyst to a dark violet, nearly turning black. He ignored [Name]'s stuttered little "N-no n-no I wa-wasn't, I s-swear...!" and closed the curtains.



Much to her surprise, there were tears building up in Matthew's eyes. [Name]'s eyes were also full on unshed tears, but unlike Matthew, her tears were of fear, not of sadness. He used his hand to brush his semi-long blonde hair out of his face, minus the errant curl.



[Name] couldn't hold the tears back anymore. She was all but sobbing now, and Matthew just stared at her. She hid her face in her hands and whenever she spoke it was muffled. Matthew hated it when girls cried, and because it didn't seem like she was going to stop any time soon, he just left the room, but not before hearing three of [Name]'s words so clearly they were practically burned into his memory.



And Matthew snapped.