Chapter 16
Grace
I’m debating on getting out of the cage. I’ve been wondering about it. Wondering what he’d do if he walked in, and I was sitting on the bed. I don’t know how he’d react.
Of course, he’d probably know I was there before he even walked in. I know he watches me. But what would he do?
He seems gentle and tender, although I know that he’s keeping a part of himself hidden from me. I stare at the white sheets on the bed. They’re perfect and crisp. Neither of us have sat on the bed since he moved it in and put the sheets on it.
I wonder what he’d think, if I was lying there, waiting for him.
My eyes snap to the door as I hear the beep, my heart thudding loudly. Usually I can hear him coming, but this time I didn’t.
My brow furrows as he rolls in a TV cart. It’s off for the moment, and encased in a large plastic box so none of the buttons can be touched.
I sit up and lean forward, my fingers wrapping around the bars.
He doesn’t address me, which is odd. He always talks to me.
My heart hurts thinking I’ve done something wrong. I don’t like that he’s acting differently.
“Gio?” I call out to him without my own conscious consent.
He stops rolling the cart and angles it so it’s facing the cage. Facing me. The black screen shows nothing.
“Yes?” he asks. His voice is a bit more hollow than usual. It lacks the side of him I’ve grown to expect. The hunger. Something’s different. Something’s changed, and I don’t know what. But I don’t like it. It makes fear rise within me.
I shake my head and shrink back into the cage. I reach for my blanket and cover myself.
Gio watches me closely, and his eyes reflect what I think is sadness.
I wanna know what’s wrong. My mind is going crazy thinking of what’s on that TV screen. Of what he’s going to show me. It could be my father, or my uncle. Maybe it's footage of them being tortured. I have no idea, and the anxiety from not knowing fills my blood.
My instinct is to run to Gio. To ask him to hold me if it’s going to hurt. It’ll feel better that way. I know he can soothe the pain.
Before I can ask him anything or even move, he leaves me alone in the room. The TV is blank still and I don’t understand, but he instantly comes back in with a large black plastic bag.
I sit up and wait for him to tell me what it is.
“I got you a gift, princess.”
My eyes widen, darting to the bag and then back to his handsome face.
He smiles sweetly, and this is the man I’m used to. I slowly crawl to the entrance of the cage and almost slip out.
But before I can, I stop myself.
“Your drawing is beautiful.” I look back to the chalkboard taking up so much room in here. I thought he might be mad. The idea that he might take it away from me also crossed my mind. So I kept it in here.
“You like it?” I ask him softly.
He walks to the cage and crouches in front of me, nodding his head. “I do,” he says and his words warm my chest. “I got you more supplies. Whatever you need, princess.”
My heart swells. I try to contain the emotion, knowing that something is wrong with me for even feeling remotely happy with Gio and his praise, but I ignore it and hold onto the sweet feelings.
He holds his hand out and waits. Knowing what he wants, I lean forward and let him cup my chin in his hand. He runs the rough pad of his thumb over my lips.
My heart beats faster. Kiss me.
I wait for his touch, but he doesn’t move. I scoot closer to him, but still, he doesn’t reward me.
“You’ll have to beg me, princess, remember that.”
My eyes widen and for a moment, I’m shocked. He’s denying me? He has yet to do that, and for some reason it pisses me off.
I scoot back into the cage and resist the urge to pout like a petulant child. What the fuck is wrong with me?
Before I have time to think on it, he lets out a rough chuckle and clicks on the TV before leaving me alone again.
Sounds fill the room, and they're loud. So fucking loud. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard music. I squint at the screen, not because the images are small, but because I just don’t understand.
I don’t recognize the people, and it’s obviously a show.
It takes me a moment to understand what I'm seeing, but when I do, my hands ball into fists and anger consumes me. I stare at the door, willing him to come back.
It’s fucking porn.