Chapter Eleven
Brit
“I expected more from you, Fly,” my father's voice came over the intercom a few hours later.
I glanced at the window of the kitchen, frowning when I saw it was getting dark. He'd been gone for a while, which was unlike him. Maybe he'd performed another ceremony. Shuddering, I glanced at Fly as he entered, heading straight for the coffee pot.
“What do you mean?” Fly said, “We fucked and I'm waiting for you to let us go.”
Tense, I put down the apple I'd been eating, suddenly no longer hungry. I’d had a feeling that Chad wouldn't believe us.
“Don't fucking lie to me.” Chad's voice was tight. “You've knocked two weeks off your time here but there’s no evidence that you actually touched intimately or had sex. I'm busy tonight, but I suggest you just get on with it, because you have twenty-four hours before I come and get my daughter.”
A slight static sounded before it went silent. My breath rushed out of me and I picked up my apple again, rolling my eyes when Fly looked at me.
“I thought we did a good job.” Fly sipped his coffee. “He just wants to see my cock enter you, the twisted fuck.”
My chewing ceased and my mouth dried. What was it with men and their crass minds? But yeah, he was right.
Spitting the apple into my palm, I went to the bin and threw it all away.
I'd been pandering to Chad for far too long.
The pain of his treatment had seeped out of me and I was ready to fight again.
Those walls had replaced themselves after the shock of seeing what was truly behind them. It was time to do something about it.
I washed and dried my hands calmly, even humming a tune my mother had sung when I was a child. Fly frowned at me as I went towards the door, glancing briefly at him as I left him and casually entered the front room.
Smiling to myself when I heard his footsteps, I sat on the couch and crossed my legs.
When he entered the room, he leaned his head to the side slightly and cocked one eyebrow. “You're far too calm, what's going on?”
Patting the seat next to me, I invited him closer. My face was stoic, despite my apparent cockiness. I was tired of freaking out and being vulnerable. It was time to take my power back.
“Can I trust you?” I said quietly. “Will you do anything I ask to try and get us out of here?”
Smirking, he eyed me. “Why don't you just tell me you want my cock? I'm happy to fuck you, even with Chad watching. Let's get our freedom.”
His arm came around my shoulders and I frowned, shoving him away. “Be serious.”
He feigned disappointment. “I am being serious,”
“The secret room has a code on it.” I sat forward, leaning on my knees.
He did the same, listening to me as his scent wrapped around my head. There was just something about the strong smell of a man that sent a thrill through me. Who was I kidding? It was his smell and his smell only.
“Do you know the code,” he asked under his breath.
“Can I trust you? If he tries to persuade you to leave me behind, will you?”
“You want to come?” he hissed, “With me?”
I nodded slowly, unsure whether he would consider taking me with him. He had said that he would, but I had to tell him something before we left. Not now, it had to be the right time. But I had to be sure that he wouldn't abandon me once he knew.
“You've opened my eyes.” I pushed through the lump that came to my throat. “And so has he. I can't live this way anymore.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I won’t leave you behind…” He offered his hand. “…no matter how attractive your father might make his offer.”
My insides shook and I realized how afraid I'd been of his answer.
We might have been confined together, against our will, but we weren't friends, despite the kisses. When I gave him the full truth of what had happened before he’d escaped when we were eighteen, he might still leave me behind. It was a risk I needed to take.
“My father just said he was busy,” I whispered. “Let's go and try the locked room.”
Fly's face was a neutral mask, almost on autopilot. “The locked room? We tried that before and couldn't get in. Is there something in there that might help us?”
Pausing, I shrugged, listening for my father, just in case he'd heard Big Mouth. No sound came out of the hidden speaker, so I pressed on, moving swiftly to the door.
“Are you coming or not?” I glanced over my shoulder at Fly, but didn’t wait for his reply as I headed across the hall and straight for the locked door.
I'd been thinking about what could be inside that was so important.
I'd also been wracking my brains as to the pin code that my father might use.
Now that my eyes were open, I thought back to everything, analyzing the times where my father had been strange or too attentive.
And all I could think of was my friend Melody and how he'd encouraged her over for sleepovers.
Except, when I'd woken up, she was missing. No wonder she’d wanted to escape with Fly.
Fly’s footsteps sounded behind me as I reached for the electronic keypad next to the door. He stood beside me, tapping his foot on the floor.
“If this is the code,” I whispered, “It'll confirm something I've been blind to forever.”
Fly stayed silent as I typed in the date of birth of my friend. She'd been born only a week before me so we'd grown up extremely close. That was why I'd been jealous when she and Fly had started to flirt, upset and worried that she might leave me behind.
The beep accompanied by the green light affirmed everything and I stood rigid, my hand in mid-air. Fly pushed past me, opening the door and letting us in. I inhaled sharply before entering, shaking off the guilt that enveloped me. I'd stopped my friend from leaving this place from pure selfishness.
Fly closed the door behind me. “When he sees we've been in here, he'll hurt us.”
Distracted, I hummed an affirmative. He was right, of course. Chad always gave out punishments as if they were treats, claiming that we had to be cleared of our sins. Who better to do that than the man who was a deity?
“I don't care at this point,” I said, shaking my head vigorously, “He can't do anything to hurt me any more than he has.”
Going to the desk, I ignored Fly, not daring to look at his face. The man could write a book with his expressions when he wasn't brooding. I knew that the judgement would be harsh right now, especially as he knew, probably more than I did, what Chad was capable of.
“Let's look for something that will incriminate him,” I whispered, opening the drawers of his oak desk.
Fly was quiet as he went to the cabinet by the window. I watched the ripple of his muscles, following their movement when he reached up to check the books on the top shelf. I'd caught him doing push-ups a couple of times, and had to look away, too drawn to the shape of his strong body.
“Nothing here.” He turned to look at me and I quickly dropped my gaze, staring into the drawer full of stationery.
“Keep looking.” Focusing on the task, I pushed the thought of Fly’s abs out of my brain. “There must be something here.”
Opening the bottom drawer, I froze. Sitting in it was a whip and handcuffs.
Chad had always preached that it was dirty and impure to use implements in intimate situations, saying that they took a woman’s power away and made the man depraved.
Had he used them on someone? Or had he confiscated them from someone else?
It was a question that didn’t really need an answer. Except…
My gaze was drawn to something under the bondage gear, a black and white photo.
Moving them to the side, I stared at the picture.
It was my friend, Melody, dressed in underwear and tied to a bed with rope.
Tears streamed down her face as she looked just above the camera, at whoever was taking the picture. The whip lay on the bed beside her.
Stomach churning, I went to slam the drawer closed, but Fly gripped my elbow from behind. He was standing behind me and I hadn’t even realized.
“What the fuck is that?” he enquired with barely concealed impatience.
His grip got tighter as he reached down into the drawer and took the photo out. My blood went cold, chilling me from the inside as he stared, his jaw ticking.
“Did your father do this to her?” His tone was so deep, so dark.
I tried to wrench my arm away. He held firm, his attention completely fixated on the picture of my friend, his crush, in an extremely compromising position. How could I deny that Chad had abused her? The evidence was in his hand.
“I… I had no idea,” I stuttered. “I would never have stopped her from leaving with you had I known.”
He let out a rumble of emotion, and turned, tugging on my arm so I was flush against him. “You stopped her from leaving with me? For him?”
He sounded like the beast from the Disney film, all scary and shit. I cowered, cringing from the sharp pain in my elbow. One swift movement and he’d snap my arm.
“I didn’t know!” I rasped when he put his face to mine, staring into my eyes cruelly. “I swear. I just wanted her to stay with me, I was so alone.”
“I don’t believe you.” His eyes were boiling with rage, his teeth gritted and his cheeks red.
“You must have helped your father to abuse your friend. And you stopped her from escaping that hell. You really believe he didn’t kill her?
Or maybe she killed herself from the pain. Does this look fun to you?”
He shoved the picture into my face, grabbed my jaw and forced me to look at it. I closed my eyes, blocking out the fear that was etched in my friend’s eyes. Bile rose in my throat and I swallowed it down, resisting the urge to puke.
“Let me go!” I ordered, snapping my gaze open and swiping the picture out of my face.
“I take full responsibility for being selfish enough to stop her, but this…” I snarled.
“…I would never encourage or condone this. Ever. And I don’t give a shit what you want to believe, if I could take it back, I would.
Now, leave me alone so I can find more evidence. ”
Shoving his chest, I stepped back as he released me. My breath came in short bursts as I went to the other drawers, ignoring him as he placed the picture back, closing it away.
“I can't do this,” he said tersely, “I can't trust you.”
He stormed out, closing the door behind him.
I hadn't wanted him to know the truth quite that dramatically.
However, he now knew and he had done exactly what I'd predicted.
I couldn't trust a man who hated me, no matter how protective he'd seemed.
It was all a show to get himself out. It was fine, I'd find a way to get out by myself.
My mind swirled as I searched through paperwork. Nothing interesting to note, except there was a brown envelope underneath the latest electric bill. Grabbing it up, I opened it, pulling out a bunch of big photos.
My mouth dried as I studied myself, walking across the compound, talking to a friend. There was another of me outside the front entrance of the main mansion, talking to Martin. There was even one of him sneaking into my bedroom. What the hell?
“He’s been spying on me,” I said softly.
There was a typed pile of papers, titled Brittney’s Plan.
In them, my father outlined everything I'd done wrong in his eyes and why I wasn't worthy to inherit his empire and his religion. My gaze traced the words, my heartbeat increasing along with my breath. He’d been writing a plan to take me down before I'd even been old enough to speak.
Right from birth, he'd been noting what was wrong with me.
And the main takeaway? I was a woman. The numbness enveloped me and I breathed through it, in and out, slowly and calmly.
The shocking revelations had hit me, over and over in the last few days.
And now… the final straw was the last part of Chad's plan, written plainly in front of my eyes.
Try to purify her myself and if that doesn't work, sacrifice her for the good of my people.