Chapter 8
Grace
My body’s so sore. It hurts from where he hit me. Daddy never hit me before. I don’t understand...
I was so little, so scared. Right after my birthday party.
Only six. Mommy said we should leave. She took me from bed late at night and carried me into the hallway.
Mommy, no. “We can’t leave Daddy!” She covered my mouth and stared at the door.
It was their bedroom door. Mommy and Daddy’s room. We can’t leave Daddy!
I didn’t understand. I was scared. My heart raced in my chest. The fear in my mother’s eyes is something I’ll never forget. We almost made it down the stairs. Her hand over my mouth as she carried me in her arms.
But he grabbed her hair. Daddy was so quiet until he yanked her backward, the pain on her face evident as I fell from her arms, crashing onto the stairs and tumbling down. She screamed as he hit her over and over.
It hurt so much. My hands covered the gash on my head.
No, Daddy! Why is he hitting her? No, stop! I yelled with tears streaming down my face. I ran up to help her.
Daddy’s hurting her! Stop, daddy! Why is he hurting Mommy? Doesn’t he know he’s hurting her?
He kicked me. His hard foot landing in my gut, I fell harder. Smacking my head and shoulder on the wooden stairs as I fell down another step.
It hurt, but Mommy wasn’t screaming anymore.
His hands were around her throat. I didn’t know it then, but he was choking her. Her fingers clawed at his hands. Her eyes turning red.
I screamed. I ignored the pain and ran faster up the stairs, hitting him as hard as I could.
Stop hurting Mommy! Daddy, stop! Please stop! My throat hurts from screaming. Someone help! Please help!
He let her go and she fell on the stairs. She wasn’t moving and laid there. So still. Mommy? I just wanted to touch her. I wanted to make sure she was okay.
Her eyes were so red. “Mommy!” I cried.
His hand came down hard across my face. Mommy wasn’t okay. Daddy wasn’t either.
My hands covered my face where the sting from his hand pulsed. But my chest hurts too. Everything hurts. Nothing’s okay.
My body’s stiff as I groan, slowly opening my eyes. My head hurts. He hit me again. I feel so dizzy. The memories of my nightmare are slowly fading. Fuck, how many times am I going to let them hit me? Over and over, that’s all they ever do.
It takes a moment for my sight to come into focus. And when it does, I stay as still as possible, my limbs frozen with fear.
Where the fuck am I? My heart jolts in my chest as I realize the thin silver bars I'm seeing and the grated floor beneath me form a cage.
I’m in a cage. My skin pricks with fear.
Yesterday comes back to me in a flood. My hands instinctively fly to my stomach, remembering the kicks, and then my neck, the pinch. They drugged me and put me in a cage.
My initial shock and confusion quickly turn to fury. I moved from one fucking cage to another. Only this one is a literal goddamn cage! My heart speeds with anger, and my blood rushes in my ears.
I ball my fists and turn onto my knees slowly, barely making a sound and taking in my surroundings. I’m surprised by my rage; I’m not used to it. At least not used to it showing on the surface. It’s a constant, but it’s generally buried under the fear and need to display obedience.
My eyes widen when I look forward and realize the door to the cage is open.
I blink several times and even creep out slightly, but not very far at all. My hand reaches out, half expecting the door to slam shut, but it doesn’t. How… odd.
As I move, a thin blanket that I was balled up in slips down my back and to my waist, exposing my chest to the cooler air.
It’s only then that I realize I’m naked, the breath stolen from my lungs.
It looks like someone has neatly folded my clothes from earlier though, and they're sitting in a corner of the cage.
I move to check my bra, and inwardly let out a sigh of relief when I see the baggie is still concealed in the padding.
I grip the blanket tighter around me, sitting on my knees. I take in a ragged breath and let a hand drift down to my sex. Did they hurt me? I don't feel any different. I don’t think they touched me. Shame floods my cheeks.
I wish I’d run faster. If only I’d walked the other way.
Maybe they wouldn’t have been waiting. Maybe I could have gotten away.
A lump grows in my throat, but I calm myself.
Ifs are useless. They make me weak to dwell on them.
I raise my head and focus on what’s in front of me.
I’m here now, and I need to figure out why and how to get the fuck out.
The grate on the floor makes my knees hurt, but I withstand the slight pain and look around the empty room.
That’s all it is. There isn't much I can see beyond this cage, which is large enough for me to stand, but only has a few square feet to move around in. There’s a doorway, although it looks like the door has been removed, on the far side and then another door to my right.
Anxiety fills my blood.
Is this a game? Choose one door and what? I’m afraid to know.
It looks like the open doorway leads to a bathroom. It looks stripped and bare, but it’s there. I imagine it’s functional.
I don’t dare leave the cage as I consider what the Romanos want from me.
I slowly back deeper into the cage and nearly scream when my back hits a bucket.
It’s empty and it makes the only sound in the room other than my own voice.
It scared the shit out of me. I’m quick to cover my mouth and silence the shrill scream that threatened to surface.
It was only a squeak of what it would’ve been.
As my heart finally calms and the stupidity of my action weighs in my mind, I hear a faint beep from the door to my right and then a click.
Someone’s here. Goosebumps prickle down my body as I clutch the thin blanket closer to me and back into the far corner of the cage, the farthest I can get away, kicking the empty bucket to the front.
Right now my options are limited. There’s not much I can do at all.
But I’ll bite, kick and scratch whoever’s coming in here. I won’t let them get away with this.
They took my chance at freedom. They better give it back.
The door slowly opens as I wait with bated breath.
I see a tray first. It’s silver, and sitting on top is a small, dark blue plastic cup as well as something else.
It’s balanced in his massive hand as the man enters.
My heartbeat slows as the door clicks shut and he turns, facing me with piercing blue eyes.
They're almost like ice. His gaze freezes my heart and my rage, anger, and confusion all vanish. In their place is lust.
His corded muscles ripple as he walks toward me with confidence and an air of authority.
His presence alone makes my heart stop. The way he carries himself makes it obvious that he’s the epitome of power and control.
It terrifies me while it also does something else.
It ignites a fire in me that I didn’t know existed. It’s dangerous. He’s dangerous.
His bright white shirt is pulled tight over his shoulders, and his faded jeans are hung low on his hips. So low that I catch a glimpse of the deep muscular “V” at his lower abdomen as he walks, and my lips part with a hunger to see more.
I swallow thickly as he closes the space between us.
He’s a Romano. Is he going to hurt me, kill me, or torture me?
I’m not sure which. But whatever his plans are, maybe I can make a deal.
I don’t have anything he can truly want or need.
I know nothing about my father’s business, and I doubt they’re looking to ransom me off.
Taking me was a message. My father got that message, and now they can let me go.
I try to gather the courage to speak, to plead, or to fight. To do something. Instead my body remains paralyzed as he steps forward, setting the tray down on the floor in front of the cage.
He crouches on the floor and tilts his head, as if wondering what I’m thinking. Behind his eyes is a cold threat. His expression is completely devoid of emotion. Fear cripples me for a moment, but I gather my strength. I can’t be weak. Not now.
“Wh- Who are you?” I’m ashamed of the stutter and the weak sound of my voice as it cracks. But at least I’ve managed to speak.
He clucks his tongue, contemplating his answer, and sits on the ground, looking into my eyes. “You can call me Gio. There’s no harm in that.”
My brows draw in at his comment. I don’t understand. “You’re a Romano?” I ask feebly. I don’t think my father would lie about who took me, but I need to make sure.
He huffs a humorless laugh. “No, they gave you to me.”
My lips part at his confession, the words slowly sinking in.
I’m a gift. My body chills, and my throat closes and I feel as though I’m suffocating.
The Rossis won’t come for me. How would my father even know where I am, if the Romanos didn't take me? My breathing comes in frantic pants. No one’s going to save me.
“Don’t worry, Grace.” My eyes dart to his. He knows my name. But I don’t recognize his voice. “I won’t come into your cage. You’re safe there. From everything and everyone as long as you’re in the cage.”
He pushes the tray closer to me, and it scrapes gently across the concrete floor. It holds a cup of something, and a sandwich. The hunger in the pit of my stomach rumbles at the sight, and it makes the man smile. His teeth are a brilliant white, only adding more beauty to his gorgeous face.
It’s not fair. Monsters should look like what they are.
“Eat, Grace,” he gives me the command and sits at the entrance.
It pisses me off.
I’m not an object to be given away. Starting now, I don’t take orders. All my life, that’s all I’ve done. I've been told what to do, and been beaten for disobeying.
I refuse to let him do the same to me. I’m done with that. It’s gotten me nowhere in this pathetic life.