Chapter 7
Callie
E scaping the traditional way isn't going to work this time. I need to get more creative with how I go about it, but they won't give me a moment alone. The only time I have a little bit of privacy is when I'm locked in the house with my father and Damien, like right now. The two of them are down in his office having some secret meeting.
We stayed at the compound again last night. I tried to find my mother to try and sneak a conversation with her while they were distracted, but my piece of shit father keeps her locked in her room when he doesn't want her socializing. I knocked on her door a few times but was met with nothing but silence.
I grow some courage, sneaking out of my bedroom and quietly slipping down the stairs. It’s a lucky reprieve that they don’t have someone to guard my room, too. If there's anything I can do to give myself a bit of an advantage, I'm going to. The door to my father’s office is cracked far enough for me to hear what they are saying, but they can't see me standing out here.
"... said that he has a new lead on the CEO and can most likely have the information to me tomorrow."
"It would be good to have them in our pocket, too. That’s a good score, Damien."
"Should we call a council meeting to go over everyone's findings? Maybe one of the others was also able to secure a lead."
"For now, let's let things settle. We made a big move by placing Joseph in the Senate race. We don't want to risk them connecting any dots.”
Joseph? Senate race? What is he talking about? What could my father and Rogue possibly have to do with the Senate race? I know there are people in our community with more prevalent positions in the outside world, but I didn’t know it was intentional.
"Next week, Joseph's opponent will be dropping out. It seems he had an incredibly misfortunate event with another woman, and it was all caught on tape."
"Did he really?" Damien laughs.
"Does it matter if it really happened? We have it on tape, and it looks like he cheated on his wife. He won't risk it getting out. He will drop out of the race just like we expect him to. Joseph will win."
"Fair enough," Damien states.
Are they really going to blackmail someone running for state Senator? If they are capable of this, what else do they have involvement in? How much pull and influence does Rogue actually have, and how the hell did it grow that much to gain this much power and influence ?
"You need to focus on getting my daughter in line. She is becoming a problem that we don't need right now."
"I'll deal with her."
"Deal with her? Like you did before? No, Damien, you will stop being so abrasive with her. Do what you did before and pretend to be nice to get her under control. She could learn to lean on you again," my father tells him. Even the suggestion makes me sick.
"Fine. When are you going to let me see that thing anyway? I'm dying to know all the dirty details about some of the other people we've talked about."
"You get access to this notebook when you're in charge. Until then, mind your fucking business and worry about doing what I say," my father spits.
I knew that notebook was important! There had to be a reason my father always kept it under lock and key. I'm not positive what's inside, but it has to have something to do with the blackmail they seem to be using to Rogue's advantage. I have to get my hands on it somehow to find out for sure.
I was never supposed to hear any of this. They planned to keep me in the dark, which is further proof that as a woman, I am completely useless in their eyes. He's only letting Damien partake in all of his activities because he needs a sidekick to knock me up.
"Keep Callie in line. We are getting close to making everything happen, and I won't let that little bitch ruin it all."
Damien's response is too quiet for me to hear.
I need to get out of here before they find me lurking outside the door. Who knows what my father would do to me if he found me snooping on this conversation. My body shifts to the side, and the floorboard beneath me creaks. Fear courses through my entire body, and I freeze in place, closing my eyes, praying they didn't hear me. My heart slams in my chest so loud it almost drowns out the sound of the footsteps closing in on me.
Why am I frozen in place? I need to run up the stairs, but even if I go now, he will see me. Should I play it off like I just got here and knock on the door? My choice is taken from me as the door whips open, and my father looks down at me.
"It's rude to eavesdrop, daughter."
"I was just coming to find Damien."
"So, you're sneaky and a liar? Is that what you're trying to tell me?" My father's eyebrows shoot up in question.
"I don't know." I can't get the right words out. He grabs me by my arm before I can say anything else and pulls me into the office, throwing me down in the chair next to the one Damien’s seated in.
"You wanted to be a part of this conversation, so be part of it. Just know once this conversation is over, you and I will be heading down to the basement. It appears you need to be taught a lesson for eavesdropping," my father says as he makes his way back to the seat behind his desk.
I try my best to keep my composure, keeping my face devoid of emotion. He wants a reaction from me, and I know if I give in, it will only make it worse for myself.
"Damien, let's get Callie up to speed since she thinks she's worthy enough to be part of her legacy."
He smiles at my father before turning to me and narrowing his eyes. "We trade in secrets and use them for blackmail to get what we want. It's really not that complicated."
"You make it sound way less effective than it is, son."
Son? I know my father isn't referring to Damien as his son. He's out of his damn mind.
"What I was trying to say is that we have an extensive list of acts that may or may not look badly upon the people who possibly performed them. Politicians, police, teachers, and some very upstanding government officials that feel indebted to us for keeping said list to ourselves," Damien tells me, but it still doesn't make sense.
"Anyone can get blackmail. Why would they care if you know a petty little secret?" I open my mouth by mistake, asking him.
"The secrets we hold are career-ending and possibly life-ending secrets. My father started compiling them when he was in charge, and the more we stacked up, the easier it became." My father grins and holds the notebook up in the air. "With this, we have just about everything we need to be wherever and do whatever we want."
My eyes trail over to the black-and-white composition book. It doesn’t look so important. Maybe that’s the point. It looks like a regular notebook, so nobody would second guess it. Power like that shouldn't exist. It definitely shouldn't be at the hands of someone like my father and Damien.
"Now you understand why you need such a strong husband? You're too weak to take control of Rogue. You need someone by your side who can keep everything in check for you. You have too many emotions. I'm doing you a favor."
He actually thinks he has my best interest in mind. "You never planned on telling me any of this, did you? You just expected me to blindly marry him?" I say while pointing over to the brute sitting next to me.
"You're correct. You didn't need to know because Damien will handle all of the specifics for you. All you have to do is look pretty and smile just like you've always done. Leave the real work for the men." My father smiles.
"I won't marry him," I state firmly.
"You will!" he grits out. "Damien, take your bride-to-be down to the basement and strap her to the chair."
My eyes go wide as Damien stands to pull me out of my seat. I try to rip my arm out of his grasp, but his fingers only dig in tighter. These bruises will complement the others perfectly. He drags me out of the room and directly down to the basement. I hate that he is so much stronger than I am. When he grabs my shoulders to place me on the chair, I push back at him and turn to try and run.
"We've been over this. You know I love it when you fight. "
He grabs me from behind, wrapping an arm around my chest. I bring my hand up to dig my nails into his forearm, causing a small trail of blood to trickle down. His other hand reaches around to grip my throat, cutting off my airflow. I pull at his arm unsuccessfully, and my body starts to go weak. I see dark spots around the edges of my vision as my body begs for air.
When my arms fall down to my sides, he releases his grip on my neck and shoves me into the chair that looks like it belongs in a dentist's office. I grip the side arms of it, coughing and trying to catch my breath as he presses my upper back against it, securing the strap around my stomach before I can react. Two more straps come across each of my legs, one on the upper portion and another near my ankles.
I finally catch my breath and reach to unfasten the strap around my stomach, but I'm not fast enough. He reaches around and secures the straps around each of my lower arms, keeping my hands in place at my side. The final strap is fastened around my neck, holding my head in place against the headrest.
Damien takes a step back to admire his work. "I can't wait until I get to strap you down here for myself."
Without saying another word, he leaves me alone with my heart slamming in my chest and my anxiety soaring. I have no clue what is in store for me today, but knowing my father, I know it will be something he deems necessary. The fact that I pissed him off will only make things worse .
After a few minutes, my father comes into the room and looks at me with a sadistic smile. "It seems you have opinions today, and women with opinions don't have a good place in our world. We can't have that."
I keep my mouth sealed, and he wastes no time walking over to cut off the bottom half of my shirt, just above my belly button. My pulse soars, and my chest heaves as I wonder what he’s about to do to me when he reclines the chair back. Whatever it is isn’t going to be good. He walks over to the corner of the room and grabs what looks like a piece of metal and a blowtorch before stepping back in front of me to click the blowtorch on.
Blue flames shoot out of the tip of the torch as my father places the end of the metal in its path. I watch as the metal changes from its silver color to a burning hot orange-red, and instantly, I panic. He is going to burn me, his own daughter.
“Father,” I try, but he cuts me off.
“You lied earlier. You should have told the truth, and maybe this wouldn’t have to be so severe. I can’t have a sneaky liar for a daughter.”
“I’m sorry. Please don’t,” I beg, but he doesn’t listen.
I try my best to dissociate from whatever is about to happen. My thoughts roam to Kyler, Barrett, Sebastian, and even Maxton while he does whatever he plans on doing to torture me.
I feel tears pouring down from my face, surely a response from my body reacting to the pain, but I keep my mind set on my men. I hear Barrett telling me to not let him break my spirit, and to find my strength .
Briefly, I'm pulled back to the moment with my father. "You see, daughter. Pain can be used to manipulate people into doing whatever you want them to. It's a fairly easy tool. The human body is only able to take so much without reacting. Soon enough, you will learn to use the same tactics I use."
"I'm not like you." I cry out. It takes everything in me to not vomit.
"No, and that's part of the problem. You're definitely not like me. I hoped that raising you the way I did would have some positive effects. You can't erase genetics, I suppose." He almost sounds disappointed.
An unrelenting pain radiates through my entire body. I expect it to lessen after a moment, but it only intensifies as the air hits my seared flesh. Tears fall down my face, and I can't control the way my body begins to shake.
I can't think straight. I can't do anything except focus on how badly my skin burns. I let him get to me. Barrett would be so disappointed. It just hurts so fucking much.
"This makes things much easier on me now that you know about the inner workings of Rogue," my father says as he leans in to unstrap me from the chair. I'm frozen in place, unable to move, fearing the pain will worsen. He glances down at the burn he inflicted and laughs. "Don't make me bring you back down here today. You will keep your nose out of my business unless I want you in it. Your future husband can tell you where to find Nadine. She always took care of your mother after I had my lessons with her. "
Without another word, he walks away. I lay here for a few minutes before I’m able to sit up from the reclined position of the chair. I can’t stop the tears from soaking my face, no matter how hard I try. I look down at my stomach to see the skin bubbled, red, and raw. The last thing I want is for Damien to see me like this, but the bastard appears in front of me with nothing but pure joy on his face as he eyes my father's handiwork.
“You were supposed to come find me.” He raises a brow, and I quickly look away.
"My father said you know someone named Nadine." I refuse to look him in the eye. He steps in front of me and grabs my cheeks, forcing my face up to his. "He took it easy on you."
I keep my mouth shut, knowing he’s trying to bait me. I’ve already dealt with enough today. My lip curls in disgust, but he reluctantly lets go and scoffs at me.
"Go to your room. I'll send the nurse to you. We have to make sure you're taken care of. We have a big day coming up very soon."
I stand up from the chair, and the swift movement causes a searing wave of pain. I look down at the burnt flesh on my stomach again. There is no way this isn't going to scar. It'll be another permanent reminder of my father and this hell hole.
I do as I'm told for now and walk up the basement steps. Every step sends a shooting pain right to the raw, sensitive flesh wound on my stomach. I almost stop midway up the stairs from the intensity of the pain, but I don’t want Damien to see me struggle. He would enjoy that entirely too much .
I finally make it out of the basement door and then over to the steps to the second floor. I have to give myself a moment before I’m able to take them. I make it to my room and decide to sit on the edge of the bed to wait for this nurse to show up to clean the burn. I could go to the bathroom and do it myself, but what’s the point? Maybe whoever shows up will have sympathy for me, and it could be a potential way out of here.
A figure appears in my doorway with a small bag in her hand. Her brown hair is scraggly and frizzy, and she has a blank look plastered on her face. She appears to be in her mid-thirties, but I could be wrong because I've always been terrible at guessing people’s ages.
"Hi," I say cautiously, trying to figure out if she is a friend or foe. "I'm Callie."
She ignores me and steps up to me. Her dainty hand reaches out to push on my shoulder until my back meets the mattress, with my feet dangling over the edge. I lay there awkwardly, not wanting to cause any issues for her because she clearly doesn't want to talk. I also want her to do whatever she's going to do to my stomach because it hurts like hell.
She digs in her bag for a few minutes before grabbing something out, opening it, and rubbing it onto my tender skin. I feel a slight burn and jump forward to a seated position, making her stumble backward.
"If you move around while I do this, it could make the scarring worse," she warns, prompting me to lie back down to let her finish doing her job .
She cleans it and rubs some kind of cream over the area that instantly cools it before taping a bandage over my wound and taking a step back. I sit up, wince at the pain, and stare at her for a moment before she speaks.
"Take these antibiotics for the next few days. Keep the area clean, and be sure to change the bandage frequently." She places a stack of bandages on the bed next to me. "This cream will help. If you see any sign of infection, have someone call for me. I’m not allowed to give you a full bottle of painkillers, so I will stop by whenever you are ready for your next dose." With that, she turns and leaves.
I sigh and walk into the adjoining bathroom to take one good look at myself before pulling the cut shirt over my head and tossing it into the corner of the room. My eyes land on my face in the mirror, and I pause for a moment. I look tired. There are dark circles under my eyes, and my hair lacks its usual shine. Being here in this place is going to ruin me one way or another.