8. Harmony
Harmony
I didn’t leave my room at all yesterday, and he never came back.
What kind of game is he playing? He seems more unpredictable than usual lately. It has me on edge. I feel like any moment he is going to slit my throat. Or beat me to death. I think I’d rather have option one if I had to pick.
But I still don’t want to die. I want to live. I want him to die.
I slowly open the door, peering down the hallway. My stomach grumbles, and my head throbs from the lack of food.
No one is there. I creep down the hall, entering the kitchen. I jump when I see Reese leaning against the counter. I give him a look of disgust as I walk over to the pantry.
I enter the pantry and grab two muffins. One for myself and one for Brooke. She is probably starving as well, even though she barely ate when I fed her. She got full really fast, probably from a lack of food for almost two hundred days.
She will have to eat enough to put on a little weight so she looks healthy enough for the auction. My heart sinks at the reminder.
I turn to exit the pantry, and Reese blocks the doorway.
“Excuse me,” I say nicely.
Hi s hard expression doesn’t change.
“Why do you let him use you like that?”
My cheeks heat. I feel adrenaline coursing through my body. Pumping my blood quickly. If Damien hears him, we will both be dead.
“Shh…”
He looks around and lets out a chuckle.
“He’s gone. I’m in charge. Now answer the question.”
“I… I have to…”
“No, you don’t. I can get you out.”
“No… I can do it myself.”
He rolls his eyes. Clearly, he doesn’t believe me.
“The only way you will get yourself out is if you’re in a body bag.”
“No. I just need time,” I say.
“How much?”
“I-I—”
“What are we doing?” Brooke asks from behind Reese, making us both jump.
“H-how did you get out?” I ask.
“The door was unlocked today,” she says cheerfully.
“So what are we talking about?” She asks.
“Nothing… It’s nothing.” I hand her a muffin, and her eyes light up.
“Oh, thank you!”
She skips off into the kitchen, and I move my way past Reese to join her. I don’t miss the look he gives me, though.
I sit and eat my muffin as Brooke picks at hers. Reese leans against the island, watching us.
“I think he likes you,” Brooke whispers to me. Pink stains my cheeks as my core heats. “What? No.” I deny it. I have known him the entire time I’ve been with Damien. Reese is a test. I would never be with Reese. Damien will kill me, and from what I know—Reese can be just as bad as Damien.
She gives me a look, as if she knows something I don’t. I ignore her. She can’t be serious.
Reese walks out of the room, and the air feels lighter. As if a weighted blanket had just been removed from my body.
“We need to work on your manners,” I say to Brooke.
She gasps.
“What? I have great manners,” she jokes. I don’t laugh. This is serious. If she doesn’t sell, she will die.
And that will be all my fault.
* * *
I have been practicing manners and proper etiquette with Brooke for hours. She seemed like a lost cause at first, but she picked it up rather quickly. I’m surprised. I definitely thought it was going to take longer.
The next step is showing her how to carry herself. She carries herself like a homeless person. Slouched and carefree. That lesson will have to wait for another time, though.
I step into my room and shut the door quietly behind me. My chest rises and falls with exhaustion. Not from movement, but from holding everything in. Holding back words, reactions, fear, and pain.
It’s rotting me from the inside out.
I get a glimpse of myself in the mirror above the dresser. My face looks normal.
It shouldn’t.
I touch the side of my cheek where Damien struck me. It’s no longer red, but I swear I can still feel the echo of it there.
He used to hit me when I talked back.
Now he hits me for doing nothing wrong. What the fuck?
I sink down onto the edge of the bed and stare at the wall. I try to remember who I used to be before I was his “queen”. Before I was a project. A groomer. A puppet.
But there’s nothing. No spark. No image.
Nothing.
I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.
The clock is ticking, and by clock I mean Damien’s temper. He is a bomb, waiting to explode. A fire, waiting to ignite. A storm, ready to destroy.
He is evil. I don’t think I can outrun evil.
* * *
Dinner time rolls around, and there is no one to be seen. I warm up a bowl of ramen noodles and sit in the living room.
I know, ramen noodles… They’ve been my comfort food since I left home. I had little money, and they aren’t bad for being 50 cents. I keep the TV off, enjoying the quiet before the inevitable storm.
The clock on the wall ticks.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The air conditioner rumbles through the large space, creating a beautiful hum. The curtains sway from where the window is cracked. The house seems happy, serene.
For a moment.
Damien practically breaks down the front door with a violent swing.
“Where is she?” He demands.
“In her room.”
“No. No, she isn’t. Where the FUCK is she?” He screams.
“I-I thought she was in bed already.”
“You thought wrong.” He throws car keys at me, and I spill my noodles onto t he sofa.
“You’ll clean that later. Let’s fucking go.”
“Go where?” I ask as I stand up.
“JUST FUCKING GO!”
I run outside, no shoes, no clue where I am going, but I go. If I don’t, he will kill me. That’s certain.
I get in the car, and Damien follows quickly behind me.
“Where should I go?” I ask with shaky hands, gripping the leather steering wheel of his blacked-out Suburban.
He gives me a sinister smile.
“Let’s start with Evelyn. Take me to Dante’s.”
His words wrap around my throat like a noose, threatening to pull the stool out from under me at any moment. I swallow thickly as it feels like my saliva has turned into wax.
“O-okay.” I press on the gas and go. Dante better be ready, because I’m not.