7. Chapter 7
Chapter 7
STARLET
* 5 MONTHS IN CAPTIVITY *
I haven’t seen Zavier for almost a week. The grime coats my skin, and my stomach growls in desperation. I’ve even started talking to myself to pass the time. But on the bright side, he hasn’t touched me in days. Strangely, though, I’ve noticed my body growing heavier, which doesn’t make sense since I barely eat anything.
A sudden realization grips me, and horror crashes over me. My breath quickens as I slowly lift my shirt, exposing my trembling stomach. With trembling fingers, I touch my swollen belly. “Please, no,” whispering to myself, my voice fractured. I have been on birth control since I was sixteen to help with my hormone imbalance that caused my face to break out, but I haven’t taken them since I’ve been stuck here.
No, no, no.
Tears stream down my cheeks, and silent sobs wrack my body as I clutch at my stomach. This can’t be happening.
“What are you doing?” Zavier’s voice pierces the air, jolting me from my despair. I didn’t even hear the door open. Hastily, I pull my shirt back down, swallowing my tears as I gaze at him. His eyes flicker towards my stomach, raising an eyebrow, and he slowly approaches me. Frozen in fear, I remain still as he stops before me. His hand tentatively reaches for the hem of my shirt, lifting it, and more tears cascade down my damp cheeks.
His eyes widen at the sight of the slight bump. Our gazes lock, his eyes sparkling with disbelief and joy, while mine bore into him with anger and hatred .
“We’re having a baby,” he exclaimed, a mixture of excitement and nervousness in his voice. There is no emotion in my eyes as I simply stare at him.
With a shake of my head, I uttered, “I don’t want it,” the words hanging heavily in the air. As his eyes swiftly transform into a fiery rage, he forcefully seizes me by the throat, yanking me closer. Struggling for breath, I frantically clutch his arm, desperately trying to pry his fingers away.
“You don’t have a choice, do you? Our own little family,” he says with a chilling undertone, before forcefully pushing me backward.
“Zavier, let me go, please!” I raise my voice from behind him, desperately trying to get his attention, but he continues to ignore me. I start stomping towards him, my footsteps echoing loudly in the empty basement. My hands tighten around the fabric of his shirt, feeling the coarse material against my fingertips. But just as I try to maintain my grip, he effortlessly yanks himself free, the sudden force causing my fingers to tingle.
He reaches the door, his hand trembling as he fumbles to open it. The metallic click of the latch releasing fills the air, yet he doesn’t step outside. Instead, he turns, his vacant eyes locking with mine. It’s as if he’s trapped in a trance. My heart is pounding in my chest as I contemplate rushing up the stairs and pushing my way out the door. Without a second thought, that’s exactly what I do.
Taking two steps at a time, I bolt up the stairs as fast as I can, praying his reflexes would fail him. But just as I’m within arm’s reach, he snaps back to reality, his gaze sharpening with awareness. In a swift motion, he exits the doorway, slamming the heavy wooden door shut.
The world around me seems to crumble as I hear the faint click of the lock. Coming to a sudden halt in front of the heavy wooden door, I unleash a gut-wrenching scream, my voice echoing through the silence. My fists pound relentlessly against the unyielding surface, reverberating with each desperate strike. Tears cascade down my face, mingling with the sweat of fear and anguish. Standing at the top of the worn staircase, I turn and peer down, my heart pounding in my chest.
I can’t do this.
I don’t want this .
My trembling fingers gently graze my stomach, a cruel notion invading my mind. “Please, forgive me,” I whisper, my voice choked with sobs. Slowly, I lower myself to the cold, unforgiving floor, the rough texture scraping against my knees. With eyes tightly shut, I summon all the courage I have left and in one swift, desperate motion, I hurl myself forward, descending the staircase in a tumultuous tumble. Each step becomes an agonizing collision, my head jolting violently with every impact. The pain surges through me as if my ribs are shattering before I even reach the bottom. With a resounding thud, I crash onto the hard floor, my body consumed by aching torment.
I can barely move. Barely breathe. As I fight for oxygen, the door swings open, and Zavier’s face contorts with terror as he gazes down at my broken form. Through blurry vision, I catch a glimpse of his frantic rush towards me before everything goes dark.
I’m jolted back into consciousness by faint whispers that tickle my ears. The voices are initially indistinct, but as my awareness grows, they become clearer. “I’m not that kind of doctor, you do realize that?” one voice, belonging to an unfamiliar man, asserts. Frustration drips from Zavier’s voice as he retorts, “Doesn’t fucking matter. Just check her out, please.”
Slowly, I pry my heavy eyelids open, my vision still blurred and unfocused as the man approaches, his footsteps barely audible. He kneels beside me, his hands radiating warmth as they gently sweep the strands of hair from my face. With great effort, I manage to focus my gaze on him. The first thing that strikes me is his piercing ocean-blue eyes, scanning my battered body with a careful intensity. Our eyes lock in a silent connection. Summoning all my strength, I part my parched lips and whisper, “Help me.” His gaze briefly shifts to Zavier, who stands with his back to us. Returning his attention to me, his tongue darts out as he licks his lips before releasing a regretful sigh. “I’m sorry.”
My heart shatters as he rises to his feet, casting one final glance down at me before turning to address Zavier. “I can’t do anything, but I can gather supplies and medication that might just do the trick,” he informs Zavier, his words fading as he ascends the stairs and disappears from my view. He was my last glimmer of hope, but clearly, his loyalty lies with Zavier.
As soon as the heavy basement door slams shut, the sound reverberating through the dimly lit room, Zavier’s heavy footsteps echo towards me. His face contorted with a mixture of anger and disdain. He towers over me, his eyes burning with hatred. “How could you?” he seethes, his words piercing through the air. “I know it was no accident. You are a heartless bitch!” With those venomous words, he turns and storms out, leaving me alone in this wretched place.
Me? He calls me the heartless one?
It’s he who kidnapped me, forcing me to endure this filthy hellhole. He’s the one who repeatedly raped me, more times than I can count, and then got me pregnant and expects me to be happy about it. And now I am the heartless one? When I get out of this shit hole, I’ll show him exactly how heartless I can be.
An hour drags by, each second feeling like an eternity as I lie here, broken and bruised on the frigid floor. Zavier didn’t even bother to offer a helping hand. Suddenly, the faint sound of footsteps resonates from the stairs, gradually growing louder. I strain my ears, recognizing the voice of the man I encountered earlier. The sound gives me a sliver of hope.
With great effort, I pry open my eyes, only to feel his arms gently slide beneath me, lifting my fragile form. A groan escapes my lips as sharp pains shoot through my battered body. I gasp, inhaling a quick breath, as he tenderly places me on the floor, my back leaning against the cold, rough wall. Sitting beside me, he retrieves medical supplies from a white pharmacy bag, the crinkle of the plastic breaking the heavy silence that envelops us.
The air hangs heavy with unspoken words, the only sound now being the rustling of the bag as he carefully tends to my wounds.
I break the suffocating silence, my voice hoarse from the dryness in my throat by confronting him about something I overheard him saying to Zavier earlier. “What kind of doctor are you?” I ask, my words hanging in the air .
“What?” He pauses his movements, his eyes meeting mine with a perplexed look etched on his face.
“I heard you earlier, saying that you’re not ‘that kind’ of doctor…so, what kind of doctor are you?”
As he gently wraps a bandage around my hand, a reminder of the fall down the stairs, he finally responds, “Oh, um, I’m a psychologist.” I nod, deciding not to delve into any further personal questions. It wouldn’t serve any purpose anyway. But before I can stop myself, the words escape my lips. “You have to help me get out of here, please.” His eyes meet mine, filled with a sense of defeat. “I can’t, I’m sorry,” he murmurs, rising to his feet. He hands me a small white pill and a bottle of water. “This is, well, it’s like an abortion pill. You had a miscarriage, and this is to ensure everything is expelled. Zavier will provide you with pain medication as needed.”
I nod, my tears obscuring my vision as I carefully open the water bottle and swallow the pill. I gaze up at him, my eyes pleading for his understanding. He gives me one last glance before I stop him from leaving. “Oh, um, what’s your name?” I stammer. He turns back, his tongue gliding over his bottom lip. “Dane,” he responds softly. Without another word, he turns and disappears up the creaky steps.