Chapter 8 #2
I’m completely skeptical of that but keep it to myself. He may not physically force them or outright tell them they have to, but it could still be implied that they’d be expected to…service him if they want to remain safely behind his walls.
“So, they just ignore all the things he does? All the blood he spills?” Do they just not care? Or do they care but push it aside to do what has to be done, like I’d been prepared to do?
Renee’s expression pinches. “It’s…complicated.
” Isn’t always? “No one’s hands are clean anymore,” she adds softly, her gaze shifting to somewhere far, far away from here.
I wonder what she’s seeing, but I don’t dare ask.
She focuses again and seems to shake herself.
“I’ll let you get some rest, I’m sure you’re exhausted. I’ll see you for breakfast? 8:00?”
“Sure. Yeah. Um, thanks, for today.” It had been really nice having Renee to guide me and talk to. I know she was being forced to, but it was nice not having to navigate everything completely alone.
“You’re welcome.”
I shower, change, and collapse into bed.
I’ve been on security detail or going on runs since coming to The Cove and not taking shifts out at the Farm, so it’s been quite a while since I’ve done manual labor like I had today.
I’m in good shape, but my focus is always mostly cardio, and my muscles are already pissed as hell at me for that fact right about now.
I’m just drifting off when the sounds started again.
“Nooo,” I groan at Destiny’s loud chuckle and then screaming moans. I slam a pillow over my head, but I can still hear the screams and grunts and eventually the steady thud of a headboard banging against the wall. I grit my teeth.
Destiny, it turns out, is quite devout. If I hear Oh God one more time, I’m going to lose my fucking mind. Come on. Does he really buy this shit?? It’s so over the top, it’s comical. I eventually give up and throw the pillow to the side.
“Come on!” I whisper-yell to the ceiling. Why does Traeger have to have such damn stamina? I’m tempted to go sleep on the couch when one final scream sounds and the thudding finally ceases. “About damn time.”
I quickly drift off to sleep now that the show is over, but this time, the dreams don’t stay away.
I don’t understand what the hell is going on here and I can’t get close enough to Traeger to demand an answer, though I’m pretty sure I already know what it is.
But no. I refuse to accept that, to believe it.
It’s been three days, and I still haven’t been punished or locked up or seen any signs that this place is the hell we all thought it was.
Every day, I’ve been escorted to meals and my shift in the garden or greenhouse I was assigned to by Renee, still with a guard trailing behind us.
Everything has been…fine. Nice even. I really like Renee and Wynn has joined us at our table for dinner every night too.
I might not have been able to talk to Traeger yet, but I’ve seen him, and every time his gaze locks with mine across the room, his look is so intense that it makes my pulse race.
I can’t decipher the look. Is he still pissed or upset or whatever he’d been when I’d essentially called him a sadistic psychopath that first night?
Is he waiting for me to do something stupid?
Is he rethinking my (embarrassing) offer to be his whore?
I have no idea, but I decide to do my best to just ignore him until he decides he wants to talk to me again. Maybe that’ll be never.
I’ve had the privilege of running into Jett on several occasions though and it’s taken all of my self-control not to kill the bastard each time.
He’d blocked my path coming in from the gardens my second day, forcing me to walk around him with a stupid self-satisfied grin on his face.
Last night, he’d forced his way in to sit beside me at dinner, continually brushing my thigh with his, even going so far as to grab it roughly when I tried to jerk it away.
He’d given it a harsh squeeze, hard enough to leave bruises where his fingertips had been before releasing me, eating and chatting and laughing as if nothing had happened.
Wynn had eyed him with thinly veiled contempt and given me a look that asked if everything was alright.
I nodded, letting him know I was fine. This place may not be what I thought it was, but I knew that I was still being watched very closely to make sure I was keeping to my end of the agreement and behaving.
Having beef with Jett wouldn’t be a good idea.
But now, he corners me in a supply closet.
“One of these days,” he says quietly as he closes in on me. I don’t lash out, not yet, but I tense every muscle as he presses me back against a shelf. I don’t think he’ll actually try anything here and now, this is just a scare tactic, but I’m ready to defend myself if I need to.
“One of these days,” he continues, “I’ll get to play with Traeger’s new shiny toy.” He grips the shelf just above my head as he leans in to whisper in my ear, his breath hot and smelling like an ashtray. “I tend to break my toys though…”
I inhale sharply but he only chuckles and pulls away, leaving me alone and fuming and feeling like I might vomit.
That’s when I realize that my body reacted to Jett with pure revulsion…
but with Traeger, it had practically purred.
Maybe because you know Jett is a true monster, whereas Traeger is just masquerading, my mind whispers.
I push the thoughts away and force my muscles to unclench as I try to calm the undeniable fight instincts that are still screaming inside me.
Because I don’t really have any other choice, I reluctantly begin to settle into life here at FOS.
It’s been two weeks now and though I’m still cautious and trying to keep to mostly to myself, Renee and Wynn are both already weaseling their ways into my heart.
Maybe I’m just getting soft in my old age, but as much as I might pretend, I don’t want to be alone here.
So, I’m happy to have them, but I think about Jonah constantly, missing him like a lost limb.
I’ve cried myself to sleep more than once…
at least on the nights when the live-action Skinimax isn’t blaring from next door.
He thankfully doesn’t entertain visitors every single night, but it’s a pretty steady rotation, that’s for damn sure.
The worst part is that hearing him in the throes sometimes doesn’t make me annoyed.
Oh no, sometimes it makes me very much…other things.
More than once I’ve imagined what was happening on the other side of that thin wall, picturing it as my hand dipped below the covers.
One night his deep voice had rumbled “Grab the headboard,” and I’d nearly whimpered.
Fucking whimpered, literally having to bite my lip to keep quiet.
Don’t even get me started on where my dreams have taken me…
Though I’ve poked around as much as I can, I’ve found jack squat hiding in the shadows of this place. No prisoners in horrific living conditions. No one chained up in a dank closet. No one being starved to death in a boiler room. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. I’m fairly certain I understand the game now.
I’m pulling up peanuts now when Kyle, one of the guards, walks over.
“Come with me,” he says, not unkindly, but not overly friendly either. I quirk a brow but stand and wipe my hands off on my shorts. He leads me to one of the tall towers that had been erected around the lake without making small talk, but his lips quirk when he jerks his chin towards the ladder.
“Up you go.”
I give him a salute and he almost cracks a real smile, I think. I climb up, wondering what the hell this could be about, and my stomach clenches when I reach the platform and see Traeger and Jett waiting.