Chapter Eleven
CINDER
It's been a month since I woke up on this island and it's unsettling how quickly unsettling has started to feel like normal.
I should still be clawing for a way out.
I should be mapping escape routes and counting resources, treating every moment of stillness as an opportunity to plan.
Instead, I wake each morning tangled in their sheets and their arms and I lie there for a few seconds longer than I should, cataloging the warmth before I remember what it costs.
It’s magnetic.
It’s explosive and toxic.
I feel their hatred with every thrust, every touch and I see it in their eyes.
They say they know me, but how?
Every day after breakfast they leave. I have no idea where they go but they never return until sunset.
Today I plan to turn this ruined cabin upside down and hunt for intel on these men.
All I know about them is that one is the boyfriend, the other two are brothers and they love to fuck hard, long and whenever they fucking want to.
It doesn’t matter if it’s outside, inside, in the hallway, on the counter or on the dining room table.
They take me anywhere they want and give zero fucks if someone was to see.
That shit thrills me.
I love it and I’ll even admit, I crave it.
The darkness that trails them like a shadow is addicting, it’s like a drug and I’ve become an addict for them.
The pull is magnetic. Explosive and toxic, deeply and stupidly addictive.
The darkness that trails them like a shadow has gotten under my skin, and I have become something I don't entirely recognize—a woman who wakes up craving the hands of men who despise her and feels nothing clean about it and does it anyway.
I act indifferent as I prepare their breakfast and serve them.
Like always they keep their backs to me and only lift their masks enough to expose their mouths.
Each night they fuck me until I pass out.
When I wake, it’s to them inside me with their masks on.
I’ve never seen their faces and I shouldn’t want to, but I do.
I long to see the faces of the men I am willingly letting inside me every single day.
Not knowing who they are is killing me.
I’m used to being invisible to everyone.
Being hidden isn’t something new for me, but having them hiding who they are from me is frustrating.
I don’t understand the hatred. They constantly tell me I need to tell the truth.
They ask me to admit my darkest sin but I don’t have one except…
No. I can never tell them who I truly am.
No one on this fucking island can ever know.
Here, I am forced to submit and surrender control to them.
Have they hurt me? Not exactly.
Do they tend to my needs? Yes.
Have they clothed and fed me? Yes.
Could I live like this?
If I had all the facts and knew who I was dealing with.
I hate to admit it even to myself but yes, I could easily live this life.
It’s a life I have dreamed of. Being wanted, craved and needed.
They hate me and I see it daily in their eyes but their touch tells another story.
They are tender, comforting and it’s almost like they are just as drawn to me as I am to them.
They are the moths and I’m the small ember.
I’m pulled from my inner turmoil when they stand from the table. Unlike the first two days, they now bring their plates to the sink and that small victory always brings a smile to my face. They may not say it but this is a small amount of respect they are showing me and I take it as a fucking win.
When daddy stops in front of me, I look up at him and instantly my body burns with need for them.
I may not know their faces but I can tell them apart now.
His blue eyes bore into my pale blues. I see his own want for me reflected in those eyes and I urge him without words to take me and fuck me right here, right now, on this counter until I’m screaming.
I love their dominance. The way they own me and turn my body against me every fucking day.
A horn blares in the distance, making me jolt in fright. Daddy’s eyes widen for a second before he schools his eyes and shields himself from me.
“Stay inside today.” His tone leaves no room for debate. “Don't go past the well, it’s dangerous.” He doesn't elaborate. He makes a move to leave and I grip his wrist, pulling him to a stop. He whirls and growls but I don't let go.
“How dangerous?” I ask.
Brother and boyfriend come to stand on either side of daddy. Their gazes are piercing but I see something flicker in brother's eyes that isn't contempt. It looks almost like concern and that gives me pause.
“Dangerous enough that you obey,” boyfriend says, flat and final.
The three of them turn and stalk out without another word, leaving me standing in the kitchen with my heart hammering and my mind turning over every implication of what was just said.
Stay inside.
It takes me the better part of the morning to work through the cabin systematically, moving room to room with the focus of someone who has spent years learning to look for what people don't want found. This place is crumbling but it has been worked on, the repairs careful, deliberate.
I’ve looked everywhere and found nothing!
My frustration is mounting.
I’m an idiot for being lulled into a false sense of happily ever after with these strangers.
Just because they fuck me how I like doesn’t mean they care.
They are crude, brutal and savage. I need to focus and remember that my main goal is to get the fuck off this island.
I can’t stay here. I refuse to escape one tyrant only to be subjected to three.
I still when I hear the sound of voices from outside. I cross the living room and peer out the window. My eyes widen and my mouth parts on a silent gasp. Men I have never seen before stalk through the field toward the crumbling cabin, the looks on their faces are vicious and downright murderous.
With the three of them gone, I have no choice but to handle this situation myself.
I may not have a fairy godmother who is suddenly going to appear and save me, but I do have enough skills to handle myself.
I’m not the type of girl who needs saving.
I’ve fought my whole life and I’ll keep fighting until the day I die or finally manage to get the fuck off this island!