“What do you expect when I’m stuck inside a prison cell all day being fed little white pills to make me happy?” She let out a little moan. “Plus, I like seeing you at your mercy for me. It feels good to be in control once in a while.”
“Jesus Christ.” His words were a mix of desperation and awe. “You’re not in control.”
Oh, but she was. She was distracting him so she could take something. Was this real?
“Fuck,” the word was strained.
“Better hurry, someone’s coming.”
His breathing picked up, and after one grunt later, everything went silent. His breathing resumed to normal, and I heard a faint giggle before he muttered under his breath, “Go back to your room, now.”
“I don’t get a thank you?” I heard the amusement in her tone. “That was for not telling on me for being out of my room. Bye, big man.”
A loud breath clamored through the room right before the door shut, and after a few seconds, I opened my eyes only to pull back with a scream lodged in my throat because the guy was standing over me with a beet-red face.
“Keep your fucking mouth shut.” He hovered over me. “It’s the only way you’ll survive here.” Then, he pricked me again, and for a fleeting second, I was thankful.
The room spun againlike I was on a merry-go-round.
He was here.
A tiny voice in the back of my head made the hair on my arms stand erect. There was a shadow in the depths of my mind that was threatening to come to light with the warning. Like some broken part of me that had been shoved down way too far was emerging so I could be prepared. But instead of being prepared, I shoved her down again.
No.
I want to go home.
But where was home? Not with Richard. Home wasn’t the place that I had grown up in.
Was it St. Mary’s? It was the first place I’d ever felt safe, even if it was proven that I wasn’t.
Isaiah.
I felt safe with him. I felt good when I was with him.
A whimper left me, and the warmth of a single tear ran along my cool cheek. “Isaiah.”
“Say his name again, and you’ll regret it.”
I squeezed my eyes shut at the sound of Richard’s voice. Was it real? It wasn’t real. My head shook back and forth as my brain played ping-pong against the walls of my skull.
“How many times did he fuck you? You know better than to lie to me. Think of all the times you’d lied over the years. What happened after I found out the truth?”
The basement was so cold. It always was. I knew Richard was behind me. I felt his heavy presence, and I was pretty sure his hand had trailed down my naked spine. Was that what woke me up? Probably.
“Tell me, Gemma. Did you eat the last cookie? Because Tobias is saying it was him.” Richard’s laugh cut through my fear like a sharp sword. “A cookie. So insignificant, but I can’t have you lying to me. I’m doing this for a reason. You will not break rules while in my home.”
“I’m cold, Uncle Richard.”
“What did I tell you to call me when you are down here?”
My eyes peeled open, and fear like no other hit me again. I hated it down here. The cookie wasn’t worth it. Why did I take it?
“Daddy,” I whispered, and then I screamed when something sliced at my back. The sound of leather against skin ricocheted through the dark room.
“I’m sorry!” I yelled out, pulling at the chains imprisoning my wrists.
“You’re too old to be doing this, Gemma. Lying to me. You’re supposed to be my good girl. I hate punishing you.”
“You don’t hate punishing me,” my voice cracked, and I pulled my eyes open, looking back at Richard’s dark eyes that were now aged with fine wrinkles around the edges. I wasn’t in the basement. I was in the white room. I was at the Covens.
The sickest smile slithered onto his face. “You’re tough this go-around. It was always so easy to break you in the past.”
A growl started to curl deep in my throat. Anger lit me up inside, and not even Richard’s darkness could put out the flame.
“What?” Richard’s head tilted, and I saw that his white button-down shirt was undone at the top, showing off his dark curly chest hair. He looked slimmer, and the dark circles under his eyes did nothing but make him look that much more dangerous. I focused on the bright-pink scratches along his cheek. Where did he get those? “Did having some cock in your pussy give you some sort of confidence? Imagine what mine could do.”
I was disgusted, and the remnants of fear surfaced. No. He didn’t get to have me. “I am not yours, Richard. I won’t let you touch me.”
He laughed, throwing his head back. I tried raising my hands to lash out, but I couldn’t. What was wrong with my arms? I looked down, taking my eyes off Richard, which was a mistake. His hand clamped onto my throat, and a scream got lodged. It hurt. It hurt really bad. My neck was sore, and his fingers felt as if they were digging into open wounds. “If you keep screaming and hitting me when I come in here, it’ll only be worse for you. No one is coming for you, Gemma. You might as well give up now.”
My head thrashed beneath his grip, and I pushed away the pain radiating to my temples. His hand came off my neck, and a look of excitement hit his muddy eyes. He liked when I fought him, and he probably didn’t even realize it until now, because in the past, I didn’t fight. I had let him have me because I thought it was the only way to survive.
And maybe it was.
“I will never give up.”