Chapter 1 #3
My eyes betray me by drifting to the piece of fish, my stomach twisting and growling at the sight of it.
Perhaps this idiot of a man can be manipulated into getting me out?
I have never done that, but surely, that would be an okay thing to do in such circumstances, right?
I need to find a way to get out of here, with help or no help.
Fighting back tears, I inhale, picturing that this is not Cole but Tristan.
And this is not lobster, but mac and cheese, and we are eating together while watching a movie.
He would hold my hand and tell me it will be okay, that I will soon wake up from this bad dream.
Dissociating, I take the seat he is offering, as his eyes wander over my breasts, settling the chair under me as I sit closer to the table.
Removing the cloche, he announces, “Enjoy, darling,” like a proud father, and rounds the table to take his seat in front of me.
Focus on the food. You need fuel to think and live.
That is all this is. You are not betraying Tristan.
Your body is sitting here, but in your mind, you are with him.
I seek the fork only to realize he has not given me one. Nor a knife.
“One can never be too careful.” He chuckles, mouth full of red lobster.
As if a woman my size could overpower him?
He wants me to eat with my hands? Like an animal?
First the cell. Then the clothes. Then…that?
Tristan’s face comes to me, and I pray. I pray he is out there, searching for me, and that he will find me before this place swallows me whole.
I pray my mind will be strong enough to survive until then, strong enough to bring me back to Tristan when the time comes. If the time comes.
So Cole wants me to act like an animal? Then I will.
I will eat with the distinguished manners of a princess, because that’s how Tristan calls me.
I will use my fingers like precious tools and feed myself with as much poise as I can manage, because this stranger, hurting us, does not deserve to see the broken parts of me fall apart.
Behind a camera in my cell, perhaps, but not here, where my dignity is all that can shield me from this madman.
Delicately, with the tips of my fingers, I tear the flesh of the lobster and dutifully eat a piece of it.
Taking my time like Mara would, like my life doesn't depend on my ability to sustain myself and be strong enough to stay alive here.
Cole watches me, amused, wiping a white napkin over his mouth, talking with his mouth still full.
“Uh,” he huffs. “Yeah, I see why you two make a perfect match.” A hint of annoyance brushes his tone.
Could he be…jealous? Is he expecting me to reply?
How could I when I have no pen and paper, and I highly doubt his ability to learn a language that would require a level of empathy I doubt he could ever possess.
My stomach answers with a growl, which earns me a devilish smile scraped of any form of human emotion.
Never mind the hunger. Thanks to Mara, I have been trained to fast for hours on end, sometimes two days in a row.
Offering me such a feast will not be free, and I have no wish to know the price I will have to pay.
Hands under my thighs, I look at the flame of the candle between us, dancing, faltering, then keeping upright again.
This is me. A flame, small but there, able to be erased from this earth by one breath from this man.
“Don’t you want to eat, darling?” I shake my head, dismissing his invitation to meet his gaze.
“Something the matter?” Still focused on the flame, I ignore his absurd remark, preferring ignorance to attack.
The feet of his chair screech as I jerk on mine.
In one motion, he towers over me, his hand gripping my jaw, forcing me to look at him, his disgusting nails digging into my skin, a grunt of annoyance pulsing through his breath.
“I was told you were mute, but I am starting to think you’re also deaf.
Wasn’t I clear enough? If I want you to eat, you’ll eat.
If I want you to sleep on your back, you will, and if I tell you that from now on you’re my personal pet, then you’ll make sure your role is honored to its full extent.
” Eyes into his, fire burns in the depths of my pupils.
A pet? I have been many things in my short life.
A servant, a maid, an outcast to my family.
That is all I have ever known, but Tristan showed me better. That I was worthy of care and attention, that when he towers over me with a hand on my jaw, it is to protect and cherish me. That I deserve love and attention. Tristan taught me that.
“Do you want to wake up tomorrow or freeze to death? All blue and frozen? Wouldn’t that be such a waste?
” I flex my jaw, the picture of my dead body here, away from Tristan and my dad, pulling my heart with pliers.
“Thought so.” He trails off. “Obey.” My stomach aches for food, but my mind has lost its appetite.
As long as I remain out of his touch, I will eat the food and debase myself by licking it in front of him, as long as it means that soon I will be home and forget about all of this.
He wants an animal, a hungry, starved, desperate girl, but I will give him a silent princess because Cole seems to have forgotten my upbringing in a house of neglect, that I am familiar with mind games and false affection.
The real question is, how long will it last until his request goes beyond what I am capable of giving without irreversibly hurting myself?
I finish my plate, yet I am nowhere to be found in this room, only the illusion of my body sitting right here.
Because my mind, my mind is right there, outside, with Tristan. Shielded. Protected.
“See? You did good, birdy.” He stands again, waving at the door, opening it up and telling Nikolai on his right, “All good. Blanket and bathroom break, but just once per day.” Glancing behind his shoulder at me, he adds, “If she wants clothes and other things, she’ll have to do much more.
” Much more? Remembering Tristan’s words from the time he sneaked into my room at night, sharing his method for mentally checking out and ignoring a business opponent, I try my best to follow it.
What Cole said is just words, and words are letters floating in the air, having no real meaning.
My only focus is to survive and get out of this place.
I am not hurt unless I let him hurt me. I want to try because Tristan would be so proud of me, but my vision falters, the reality of what could happen to me is difficult to ignore.
Standing awkwardly, trying to hide myself with my arms, I walk barefoot to the doorway, where Nikolai grunts, “Follow me.” I’m about to do so when a hand grasps my upper arm, lips entering my space, murmuring in my ear, “Tomorrow morning, I want you clean and happy to see me.” Clean?
How? I have no water, no soap. “You’re a smart girl; I’m sure you’ll figure out a way.
” Licking his upper teeth, he sneers with mischief.
Cole wants me to lick myself clean like an animal.
My teeth clack uncontrollably. I do not even know how to stop it.
It is like my body is carrying a bomb of fear inside, and nothing I can do can undo its upcoming explosion.
I can hear his smile in his voice as I look down at the concrete.
“I told you, Ella. You’re going to have to earn everything you want here, and…
Well, perhaps I could grant you a call to your boyfriend tomorrow?
” My eyes shoot right up to him as I nod eagerly.
I would not be able to talk, but he could.
That would be the greatest thing of all.
I would do anything to get this, even…even his request. “Ah, see, you’ll learn to obey.
You just need the right…” His thumb brushes my lower lip. “Incentive.”
Snapping his tongue, he flexes his hand, as if touching me too much were a dangerous affair capable of ruining his life if Tristan were to know about it.
Letting me go, he nods to Nikolai, who walks ahead as I struggle to follow through this maze.
I try to remember each turn, right, right, left, down, set of stairs, right…
but I get confused and lost, and all I can take in are the numerous cameras in every corner, and the amount of guards in every hallway, and the voices–masculine ones–pleading behind doors, trapped like me in this hell no one seems to be aware of.
But all I can think is that tomorrow I will get to talk to Tristan, or at least be connected to him.
And that perspective fills me with the dangerous possibility of hope.
I will do what Cole asked. I will lick the dried blood from my skin if it pleases him enough to give me access to Tristan, even if the thought disgusts me.
It will be a long night, and I hope, I hope tomorrow, all of this will be behind me, a nightmare I have woken up from, saved by Tristan.
“Find me,” I silently pray, standing in front of the door. “Find me, Tristan, please.” And I almost feel a mirage of his voice far, far away, telling me that he hears me, and he’s on his way.
Tristan
“I’m on my way,” I murmur into nothingness, standing in my living room, facing the forest before me, the window overlooking my garden.
I mean, land is more accurate, but, well, a bunch of trees, all black from the night.
I can almost see her sign right now. Find me.
Get to me as fast as possible. I beg you.
I have never been one to believe in the paranormal, and yet it still feels like our bodies and minds are in sync, connected despite being torn apart.