Chapter 5
Callie - Two months later
D rip. Drip. Drip. The sink in my bathroom has been dripping at a steady pace for almost an hour now, and I can't bring myself to get up to shut it off. Drip. Drip. My fingers are pruned and shriveled, but this is the only place I have peace. I bring my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them.
It's almost time for my father to take me back to give me another one of his lessons again. Until then, I'll sit in the bathtub, holding onto every possible tranquil moment I can get. Every day, I sit in the warm water for as long as I can, plotting my way out of this mess, whether I’m here, at the cabin, or at the other house. Drip.
My days are starting to feel more bleak. My father is growing increasingly annoyed. He hasn't been able to break me yet. He wants compliance, and I'm too stubborn to give it to him, even if it's under false pretenses. As the days go on and the wedding looms closer, I find my strength and drive starting to wane.
Drip.
Sebastian, Kyler, and Barrett are all I can think about. It's been two months since I was ripped out of their house in the middle of the night. Sixty days since I watched Kyler bleed out on his bedroom floor. I still don't know what happened to them or if Kyler is alive. With every passing day, I lose a little more hope of them saving me. I thought I was part of their family. I thought they would do whatever they could to get me out of this hellhole, but every day I'm left disappointed, and every night I'm chained to a fucking bed.
I've been without them for so long that I've started to doubt our time together. What if they were just playing with me? What if they're happy they don't have to deal with me anymore? Tears well up in my eyes and threaten to fall down my cheeks. What if they're dead, and I'm holding onto hope for no reason? Drip. Drip.
I shake the thoughts from my head. No, that can't be true. They're alive, and they love me. Barrett told me he loves me. I felt Kyler's love. There's no way it was all a lie.
I've tried a few times over the last two months to run away like I did all those years ago, but someone always catches me. My father's gotten smarter and isn't giving me any opportunities to get out of his grasp. Having Damien on his side has made it twice as hard.
When I first got back to Rogue, they moved me around a lot. I never stayed on the compound for more than two nights in a row. Sometimes, I was in some sort of cabin; other times, I was in a strange house I had never seen before. There was never a schedule or a reason why we ended up at any of the places. No matter where I ended up, I was always locked in a room by myself and chained to whatever bed I was sleeping in for the night.
They've been keeping me on the compound almost every day for a week now. Something is going to happen soon. I can feel it. I wouldn’t be in one place this long if they didn’t have something planned.
I took a chance at running last night and snuck past the guard into the tree line. I didn't even make it ten feet into the woods before Damien walked out from behind a tree and grabbed me by the arm to bring me back to my prison. Turns out he told the guard to let me slip past because he was bored.
Drip. Drip. He loves toying with my mind. All the rumors about him being barbaric were just the tip of the iceberg. Now that I've seen his true self, I know that Damien is as cold and manipulative as my father.
The similarities between the two of them are uncanny. It's always about power. They both want every bit they can possibly get their hands on at my expense. Maybe I’ll get lucky and one of these fuckers will kill the other for me.
The only grace I've been given over the last two months is that my father told Damien he was not allowed to touch me sexually until we were married. He didn't do it to protect me. He did it because he wanted to punish Damien for letting me slip out of his grasp. My father doesn't give a shit about me, and Damien has made it perfectly clear he has a brutal wedding night in store for us, well me .
As the wedding inches closer, I find myself growing more terrified. The wait is only going to make him more cruel. We had sex before, but the person I slept with was Julian, the kind, loving boyfriend. Julian and Damien may be the same person physically, but they are two different people. Damien will not be gentle with me like Julian was.
It still pisses me off when I think about how he was able to betray my mind for an entire year. He played the sweet, loving boyfriend so well. There was no way I could've ever known the truth. When I look at him now, I see the evil in his eyes. He is everything Avery tried to warn me about. Damien will hurt me, and he will enjoy it.
The door to the bathroom swings open, pulling me from my thoughts. Those green eyes that I've grown to hate meet mine. I used to feel safe looking into them, but now they disgust me.
"Get out of the tub. Your father is waiting for you, and you've already embarrassed me enough this week. You will not be late."
"Doesn't it bother you that he hurts me?" I ask, my tone is weaker than I’d like. I hate that he gets glimpses of my weaknesses.
He pushes up his sleeve and takes a few steps into the bathroom before leaning down to unplug the drain from the tub. "The only thing that bothers me is that he doesn't ever let me help."
I shake my head. "What happened to you in life to make you like this? "
He ignores my question and turns to make his way back out of the room. "Get out, or I'll take it as an indication that you need help." He turns to face me, raising a brow. "Do you need help getting ready, Callie?"
He makes my skin crawl. "I'll be out and dressed in a few minutes," I tell him softly.
"Make it quick. Your father expects me to bring you to him."
He leaves, giving me time to dress myself in peace. It's nothing he hasn't seen before, but it's different now. I drag myself out of the tub and quickly throw my clothing on. If I take longer than they want, it'll make the punishments worse.
After a few minutes, Damien marches back into the room, grabs me by the arm, and pulls me down the stairs behind him. He’s so rough I almost fall.
"I can walk, Damien."
My comment is ignored, like most of the other things I say. We turn the corner of the stairs and head down the hallway to the basement door. Damien stops and knocks twice, waiting for my father.
"Bring her down," I hear my father yell out.
Damien pulls the door open and drags me down the remaining stairs. The basement consists of one large space split up into several smaller rooms off of the main space. One of them is a cell, another has a chair that I’ve been strapped to a few times, and another has a wide-open space where someone can be strung up and tortured. Luckily, we end up in one of the smaller rooms, and I'm placed in a metal chair that sits in front of a television in the center of the room.
My father looms above me, with an ugly scowl on his face. "You can leave us now, Damien."
I look over my shoulder to see his fist clench before he nods and walks away. Here we go again.
"This would be so much easier if you would just learn," my father seethes.
I cross my arms over my chest, doing my best to ignore him, but it only angers him further. He reaches out and grabs one of my wrists, securing a metal cuff around it, and steps behind me to pull it behind the chair. I hear him mutter something to himself before he grabs my other wrist and secures it next to the first one. I don't even try to fight him anymore.
He ties my feet to the legs of the chair to ensure I can't go anywhere and steps in front of me to click on the television. An image of a woman fills the screen, and I immediately recognize her.
"Mom," I whisper.
"Since you enjoy fighting me so often, I thought you might like to see some of what your mother endured after you ran away and left her here."
I turn my head and close my eyes, refusing to look at the screen. My father walks over to the corner of the room to grab a device before making his way back to me. I hear a metal click behind me as he attaches something to the chair. He moves my head to face the screen and locks my head in place. Two pieces slide around either side of my jaw, keeping me from turning my head in any direction.
"You will keep your eyes open, or I will tape them open. Don't make this more difficult for yourself. I'll have you down here watching it on repeat for days if I must," he says as he moves to stand on the other side of the television to position himself in a place where he can watch all of my terror.
A tear slips down my cheek as my mother’s screams begin to fill the room. He wasn't gentle with her. The image of her on the screen shows bandages around her chest in the first clip. This must be right after she was shot. He brings the hot metal down onto her skin over and over, not caring that her body is still healing from trauma. It's sickening, and my stomach twists in disgust.
"Keep your eyes on the screen, Callie."
"How could you do this to her? She's your wife."
"I told you there are consequences to those who go against me. You should remember that. You will marry Damien this time, and there will be no further issues, or things will get much worse for you."
My mother’s screams fill the room again, and the tears flow down my face.
"Your emotions will give your enemies power over you. I'm doing this for your benefit," my father tells me, and I know the sick bastard really thinks that making me watch this will benefit me.
"I won't marry him," I grind out.
"You will do what you're told, Callie." He steps in front of the screen so that my gaze is focused on him.
"That’s what you always wanted from me, wasn't it? To do as I'm told with no question?"
"So many lives have been unnecessarily altered because of you." He presses a button, and the screen changes to a picture of Maxton.
He's not going to pin his death on me. I meet his stare in defiance. "Their lives were altered because of YOU, not me."
"You set all of this in motion, you stupid girl. All you had to do was be good and marry Damien when you turned eighteen like I asked you to, but you've fought me every step of the way."
"You could have just let me be happy with Maxton."
Loud laughter fills the room, and a smile spreads across his face. "That boy was destined to die the moment you tied yourself to him. You knew then, just as you know now, what is expected of you. How many more people need to die in order for you to serve your purpose? You should be thanking me for the life I’ve offered you."
I'm disgusted by his words and refuse to give him the satisfaction of any further response from me. My jaw snaps shut, and I stare up at him for a few minutes before he steps out of the way and starts the video again. I'm not sure how long I sit here listening and watching my mother cry out in pain.
By the time he clicks the screen off, I have the entirety of it seared into my brain. The way her body lifted off the chair when the hot metal pierced her skin, she must have been hurting so much. The furrow between her eyes as she cried out made my heart ache for her. The tears that slid down her face when she begged him to stop made me wish I could take her place.
He frees my hands, head, and feet before instructing me to go back upstairs to my room and get ready for dinner. I'm numb, and even though all I want to do is crawl back into the tub and dissociate from the world, I have to get dressed and ready. When I'm late for dinner, he takes it out on my mother, and after seeing what I was forced to watch, it's clear she's already suffered enough at my expense.
I'm only in my room for a few minutes before the door bursts open, and I hear Damien yelling again. Everyone is always yelling at me.
"Callie, is there a reason you're not dressed and sitting on this bed waiting for me to take you downstairs? Your father was kind enough to throw us a small get-together. Let's go."
I say nothing as I continue putting on my makeup. I have to be sure to paint the perfect face.
"I said, let's go!" Damien yells from the doorway.
When I still don't respond, he stomps into the bathroom and grabs me violently by my shoulders, digging his fingers into my skin.
"You will answer me when I speak to you." He shakes me, and I narrow my eyes at him.
SLAP. A calloused hand meets the side of my face, causing instant pain. This motherfucker has the audacity to put his hands on me. I'm pissed .
"Fucking hit me again, Damien, and see what happens!" I push against his chest to try and get some much-needed distance from him, but he grabs my wrists and pulls me closer.
"I love it when you fight me," he whispers in my ear, and my stomach turns. "Your father's training is making you so much more docile. While I do enjoy an obedient bitch, I would much rather break you myself. Now, finish up so we can go."
When he leaves me in the bathroom, I turn and stare at myself in the mirror, wondering how I will ever survive this life. I have to find a way out or die trying.