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Authors: Glenna Maynard
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cell and locks it without another word or glance in my direction.
I curl into myself on the floor and sob, praying I can escape this hell of my own making. I can hear him laughing at me as he walks upstairs.
What kind of man treats a human being this way? A few stolen touches and I was falling for him and playing right into his hands. He is a beast from hell. The monster you were warned about as child. The kind of vile creature, who thrives on fear, lurking in the shadows of your closet and hiding under your bed. He is the kind of man who will take a man’s daughter and use her against him.
But what is a woman to do when she is no longer a child and can’t call out for her daddy to make the bad man go away. I’m an adult and the monster now sleeps in the room next to mine, and a seriously messed up part of me wants him sleeping in my bed beside me.
**
The faint humming of music can be heard in the distance. Is someone playing a piano? I feel sick and disoriented and as if I have been here before, in this room. But that can’t be possible. I would remember it if I had.
Finding my breath and my feet, I feel along the wall, hoping to find a way out, but no luck. Just cold stone walls. There isn’t even anywhere to sit. What if I need to throw-up or use the bathroom? Maybe this means he doesn’t intend to keep me here for long. Sinking back down to the floor, I strain to hear the faint melody playing in the distance until I fall asleep.
Chapter 7
Isabella
I’m not sure how long I have been down here in this cold, dark, damp cell in Tristian’s dungeon when he comes back for me. I don’t even think a day has passed but I can’t be sure. I slept for a few hours after I passed out from my panic attack. I don’t do well with the dark or tight spaces.
The iron gate creaks open after he unlocks it. My eyes are tender and sore from crying so hard. My legs are stiff, I am cold, hungry, and in desperate need of the bathroom.
“I see you have survived,” he notes as I stretch my tired bones.
“With no help from you.”
“I can leave you down here. Makes no difference to me, but that just means I have to dock your pay for time missed.”
“You are kidding me right? You are going to hold it against me because you chose to stick me down here for having an opinion.” I shove past him as he holds the door open for me.
“Clean yourself up, I’ve cooked you breakfast,” he says following me up the stairs.
I make my way up slowly feeling exhausted and depressed.
“Move!” he barks kicking the back of my shin.
I break my fall with my forearms against the top stair. That smarts. A single tear escapes as I push myself up.
“Your Grandma Iris was slow but she was old.” He laughs.
I glare at him before rounding the corner to the stairs that lead up to my room.
He snorts and goes toward the kitchen.
I start up the stairs and he calls out, “be in the dining room in twenty. I don’t need to remind you to be punctual.”
“Yes Sir.” I salute him with my middle finger behind his back.
I take my time cleaning up and getting dressed. What’s he going to do? Put me back in his dungeon!
When I get to the dining room Tristian is busy taking a call and holds his finger up signaling for me to wait before taking my seat.
I glance around the large room. The table takes up most of the space. Such a large table for one man. I count twelve chairs.
“I’ll be in touch soon,” he says ending the call. “Come sit.” He scoots his chair back, motioning me to sit in his lap.
Reluctantly, I do as he wishes. He wraps one arm firmly around my waist and picks up his fork with the other. He cuts me a bite from his stack of pancakes and feeds me.
“Why are you being nice to me?” I ask once I have swallowed and had a drink of orange juice.
“I told you. If you follow my rules, I will take care of you. I’m not as awful as you think.”
“I know you aren’t Tristian. The problem is that you don’t.”
I curl into myself on the floor and sob, praying I can escape this hell of my own making. I can hear him laughing at me as he walks upstairs.
What kind of man treats a human being this way? A few stolen touches and I was falling for him and playing right into his hands. He is a beast from hell. The monster you were warned about as child. The kind of vile creature, who thrives on fear, lurking in the shadows of your closet and hiding under your bed. He is the kind of man who will take a man’s daughter and use her against him.
But what is a woman to do when she is no longer a child and can’t call out for her daddy to make the bad man go away. I’m an adult and the monster now sleeps in the room next to mine, and a seriously messed up part of me wants him sleeping in my bed beside me.
**
The faint humming of music can be heard in the distance. Is someone playing a piano? I feel sick and disoriented and as if I have been here before, in this room. But that can’t be possible. I would remember it if I had.
Finding my breath and my feet, I feel along the wall, hoping to find a way out, but no luck. Just cold stone walls. There isn’t even anywhere to sit. What if I need to throw-up or use the bathroom? Maybe this means he doesn’t intend to keep me here for long. Sinking back down to the floor, I strain to hear the faint melody playing in the distance until I fall asleep.
Chapter 7
Isabella
I’m not sure how long I have been down here in this cold, dark, damp cell in Tristian’s dungeon when he comes back for me. I don’t even think a day has passed but I can’t be sure. I slept for a few hours after I passed out from my panic attack. I don’t do well with the dark or tight spaces.
The iron gate creaks open after he unlocks it. My eyes are tender and sore from crying so hard. My legs are stiff, I am cold, hungry, and in desperate need of the bathroom.
“I see you have survived,” he notes as I stretch my tired bones.
“With no help from you.”
“I can leave you down here. Makes no difference to me, but that just means I have to dock your pay for time missed.”
“You are kidding me right? You are going to hold it against me because you chose to stick me down here for having an opinion.” I shove past him as he holds the door open for me.
“Clean yourself up, I’ve cooked you breakfast,” he says following me up the stairs.
I make my way up slowly feeling exhausted and depressed.
“Move!” he barks kicking the back of my shin.
I break my fall with my forearms against the top stair. That smarts. A single tear escapes as I push myself up.
“Your Grandma Iris was slow but she was old.” He laughs.
I glare at him before rounding the corner to the stairs that lead up to my room.
He snorts and goes toward the kitchen.
I start up the stairs and he calls out, “be in the dining room in twenty. I don’t need to remind you to be punctual.”
“Yes Sir.” I salute him with my middle finger behind his back.
I take my time cleaning up and getting dressed. What’s he going to do? Put me back in his dungeon!
When I get to the dining room Tristian is busy taking a call and holds his finger up signaling for me to wait before taking my seat.
I glance around the large room. The table takes up most of the space. Such a large table for one man. I count twelve chairs.
“I’ll be in touch soon,” he says ending the call. “Come sit.” He scoots his chair back, motioning me to sit in his lap.
Reluctantly, I do as he wishes. He wraps one arm firmly around my waist and picks up his fork with the other. He cuts me a bite from his stack of pancakes and feeds me.
“Why are you being nice to me?” I ask once I have swallowed and had a drink of orange juice.
“I told you. If you follow my rules, I will take care of you. I’m not as awful as you think.”
“I know you aren’t Tristian. The problem is that you don’t.”
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