Chapter 14 #2
With my phone in hand, I turn to leave, closing the door behind me so she can shower in peace. Back in the bedroom, I throw on a pair of gray sweats and a white tee. Then I refill her water bowl and set it back in the cage, adding a box of cookies and a can of Coke beside it.
That done, I make myself a coffee, and for a moment, I consider offering her one. But I decide against it since she’d probably just try to throw it in my face.
Just as I take my first sip, my phone buzzes. Timer’s up. I head back toward the bathroom and open the door without knocking.
Eve’s standing at the sink, only covered by a small towel while she brushes her teeth. The moment I step inside, she lets the fabric fall to the floor and finishes up.
“Let’s go,” I say.
She eyes the steamy cup of coffee in my hand, longing washing across her features. “I’d offer you coffee,” I say, raising the cup in a mock salute, “but I’m pretty sure you’d try to throw it in my face.”
Laughing, she walks right by me, shoulders squared despite her nudity. Her round ass jiggles with every step, making me want to bite the flesh just to see what she tastes like.
“You k now you can’t keep me here forever, right?” she asks as she walks back into the cage. “People will look for me. They’ll know something happened. They’ll—”
“No one’s looking for you, Eve.” I lock the cage and sit down on my bed, taking a sip of my coffee. “Your neighbor has already called the police to report you missing. Left a very convincing note saying you’d been acting strange lately. Mentioned your recent visit to the psych ward.”
The color drains from her face. “That’s… that’s not true. I’ve never been—”
“You weren’t,” I agree. “But now you are. Your file’s been updated. History rewritten. And you, my dear Bride, have no idea how many hands were paid to hold that pen.”
She stares at me. “Like that’s going to work. The police will know I’m not missing when people start posting pictures of the wedding on social media,” she snaps.
I throw my head back and laugh loudly. “Oh, my sweet wife, that’s not happening.”
“Why not?”
Shooting her a wicked grin, I reply, “Because no one is allowed phones or tablets on the island. You wouldn’t believe the lengths my brother has gone to make sure no one can sneak a device in. And if someone succeeds, there are signal jammers all over the place.”
“What? No, you’re lying.” Disbelief is written all over her features.
I drink more of my coffee before I carry on. “The only devices are staff owned, and no one is posting anything without my brother or sister-in-law’s approval.”
Something like horror dawns in her eyes. “You planned this. All of it.”
“For months.” I don’t bother hiding the satisfaction in my voice. “Every detail, every contingency. You’re not the first person to disappear in this city, Eve. You won’t be the last.”
Her face contorts with renewed fury. She slams her hands against the bars again, rattling the cage with surprising strength. “Let me out! Let me OUT!”
When screaming doesn’t work, she tr ies a new tactic.
Her foot knocks the water bowl with precise, deliberate force. Not enough to flip it—just enough to send a ripple across the surface and slosh water onto the mat. Then again. Harder. The sound of it slamming into the bars echoes through the room like punctuation.
I continue to drink while observing her tantrum with bone-deep satisfaction. “Are you done?” I ask in a bored tone.
“Not even close,” Eve hisses as she brings her foot down on the box of cookies.
Then, with a sound halfway between a sob and a snarl, she continues to stomp on the cardboard until it gives out, crumbs spilling everywhere. She grinds them into the carpet with her heel, eyes locked on mine like she’s daring me to do something about it.
The box is gone, but she keeps stomping, like destroying one thing isn’t enough to bleed out what’s boiling inside her.
“You shouldn’t waste food,” I observe dryly, setting my now empty coffee cup on the nightstand. “Some people would kill for any food at all.”
She grinds her teeth together. “Oh, yeah? What would you know about people struggling, Jack? Your family has everything. You’ve never gone hungry a day in your life.”
“Neither have you,” I reply. “But for your information, I’m actually a pretty nice guy. I even volunteer once a month.” I don’t tell her I only began after my short death. There’s nothing like having your heart stop to make you see the world in a different light.
“A nice guy wouldn’t keep a woman locked in a fucking cage,” she seethes.
I lift the bottle and drink deep, watching her shoulders heave and her face turn redder by the second.
“I didn’t say I would be nice to you, ” I correct.
“But if you think this isn’t nice, I can always move the cage outside.
The fact you’re sheltered, given food and water, is the extent of my niceness to you. ”
Eve begins kicking the bars systematically, each impact creating a dull metallic thud that reverberates through the room. The noise is repetitive, deliberate—designed to provoke a respons e. To force me to acknowledge her, to engage with her fury.
I let her continue until the urge to drink myself into oblivion overtakes me, and I get a bottle from the kitchen. Sitting my ass back in the chair, I continue to watch her as I light a cigarette, taking a long drag.
Half the bottle’s gone and my throat’s raw from chain-smoking when I rasp her name. But she doesn’t acknowledge me or stop.
“Eve.” My voice cuts through her noise like a blade. “That’s enough.”
She kicks harder, glaring up at me with defiance burning in her eyes. “Fuck you. Fuck your cage. Fuck your—”
“Keep that up, and I’ll gag and hogtie you,” I warn.
Her foot freezes mid-kick.
“I’ll bind your limbs to the cage itself. You won’t be able to move. To scratch. To kick. Just lie there, completely immobilized until I decide to free you.” I pause, letting the image sink in. “Is that what you want?”
The silence that follows is absolute. Even her breathing seems to still.
“I didn’t think so.” I straighten, moving to the light switch by the door. The room plunges into darkness as I flick the switch.
Returning to the chair, I settle into the leather. The silence that follows her hours-long tantrum is the kind that makes you believe in higher powers. Almost.
I light another cigarette, washing the smoke down with another pull from the bottle.
“One day, I’ll kill you for this.” Her voice drifts through the darkness, barely above a whisper. “I’ve survived bigger monsters than you, Jack. And when I get out of here, I’ll kill you.”
I smile into the dark, not bothering to open my eyes. “I know you’ll try.”
The silence stretches between us, thick with unspoken threats and promises. I hope she keeps trying. Hope she never shuts the fuck up or goes still, because the day she stops threatening to kill me is the day I know I’ve broken her for good.
“And if we’re both lucky, you might succeed,” I rasp, keeping my eyes on her silhouette. The longer I sit here, the bet ter I can see her. Well, her outline and movements.
“You know this won’t last, right?” She throws her hair over her shoulder, naked and unafraid. “People will come. They’ll find me. They’ll—”
“Disappear too,” I finish. “Anyone who comes for you will wish they hadn’t.”