by J Marie
Some hours later, it was past 8 a.m., and I decided it was time to get ready for the day. I rolled out of bed and stretched my body like a cat, rolling my shoulders and neck until the tension in my muscles eased away. I stood and padded over to the bathroom, used the toilet, and showered. I did everything I could to avoid my face in the mirror, but I knew I would have to look at myself eventually in order to cover the giant bruise I knew was there on the side of my cheekbone.
When I stepped out of the shower, I towel dried my hair and went to my vanity to begin the cover-up process, but when I raised my eyes to my reflection, I almost broke down in tears. Dark purple, green, and red smudged the side of my face in a massive bruise the size of a baseball, and I could see the exact spot where Darren’s knuckles had made contact. They had broken the skin. I almost wanted to leave it uncovered just to spite him, to show him the damage he had done, hoping he might display a human side and express a little fucking guilt for once.
But unfortunately, I couldn’t stand the sight of myself. I layered on the concealer, covering it up as best I could, but the dark shadow of purple still lingered under it all. I parted my wet hair so that my bangs would hang over the same side of my face that harbored the bruise in another attempt to hide it. I dried my hair and styled it into soft, loose curls, fanning them out around my shoulders and down my back. My hair was getting longer. It now reached well past my shoulder blades. I didn’t typically grow it this long, preferring it to be only a few inches below my collarbone. It was easier to manage that way and was less annoying.
I chose a silky soft silvery blue sundress to wear and the nude flats I had finally broken in months before. I looked down at the diamond studded infinity ring from Tiffany’s that Darren had gifted me so long ago. I wanted to chuck it into his mouth so he’d choke on it, but that wasn’t gruesome enough of a death for me.
At 8:55 a.m., I slowly made my way down the stairs and found Darren sitting at the table with some paperwork in his hands. He was reading with a focused face when I finally sat down. When I scooted my chair in, he looked up from his work and smiled at me.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Morning,” I mumbled back and began to make myself some tea.
I could feel his eyes on me, scrutinizing me, but thankfully, my hair fell down the side of my face and blocked his vision from my eyes.
“Did you do something different with your hair?” he asked me.
I shrugged without looking at him. “I switched the part.”
His eyes narrowed then for a moment before he finally leaned forward, reaching out with his hand and tucked my hair behind my ear to expose my bruised cheek. I didn’t look at him. Not even when he gently gripped my chin and tilted my face up so he could get a better look at what he’d done. I managed to catch a glimpse of his bruise on his cheek, and it was actually healing rather quickly. Darren was silent for a moment as he analyzed the damage, his thumb softly grazing the skin, causing me to reveal the tiniest wince. He released a heavy sigh as he stared at me, and for some reason, it sounded like regret.
“I’m sorry,” he said gently. “But I warned you what could happen if you didn’t listen to me.”
I scoffed at him. Like I actually gave a shit about his apology.
“I don’t want your sorry. I want you to let me go.”
Darren released an irritated sigh as he sat back in his chair, glaring at me.
“And that little request is exactly why I’m doing what I’m doing.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, not sure I even understood him, “but you’re going to kill my entire family because I want you to let me go? The fuck kind of logic is that?” I seethed.
“Watch your mouth,” he warned with a serious glare in his eye. “And I already told you. I’m eliminating the element that is causing you to regress from your life with me. I need you focused on the future, not the past.”
“And you think killing my family will ensure that I give in to you? Again, the fuck kind of logic is that!”
“Cuss one more time and your ass with match your cheek,” Darren growled, his threat causing me to curl my fists in my lap until they shook. “I expect that once you’re over your mourning period, you’ll realize there is nothing left for you to hold on to, no reason for you to try to escape me, and you will finally give up this senseless fight and give in to me.”
I shook my head at him, closing my eyes and fighting back tears while my fingers nearly broke from the tension in my fists.
“You have no idea how wrong you are,” I said, staring straight into his eyes with conviction. “I would never forgive you for this. I will always have a reason to get away from you, no matter what you do.”
“We’ll see about that.” He smirked.
“You can’t honestly expect me to just sit around and let you do this.”
“I don’t imagine there is much you can do about it,” he said taking a sip of his coffee before setting it back down on the table.
“Don’t underestimate me, Darren. That will be your biggest mistake,” I replied confidently.
His hand was on my throat before I could even blink.
“And challenging me will be yours,” he snarled with absolute malice.
His eyes blazed with an intense anger as his grip on my throat quickly became a vise. I didn’t even bother to try to stop him. I just scowled at him, holding back my tongue as I fought for oxygen, hoping he’d let go.
After what felt like hours, he finally released me and stood, putting his suit jacket on over his white dress shirt and black tie. My throat burned as I coughed and gasped for air, tears beginning to build in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.
“I have to go away on a business trip tomorrow. I’ll be gone a few days.”
Bye, Felicia.
And then Darren’s mouth dropped real low to my ear.
“Maybe if you behave while I’m gone, I won’t make you watch,” he said, but I could taste the venom in his words as he spoke about murdering my family. He was so good at motivational speeches.
“How nice of you,” I answered, my eyes looking straight ahead.
Darren then roughly gripped my jaw and kissed me hard on the mouth. His tongue forced its way through my lips and tangled with my own. I felt the heat rush through me and melt into my core as his thumb dug into the side of my jaw while his lips made a victim out of mine. He then released my face and looked down at me.
“You’re to remain inside today,” he said and I immediately scowled at him, only for Darren to return the gesture. “Be thankful I don’t lock you in your room instead. I’ll see you at dinner.” He sneered and then walked out the door, Scott and another guard hot on his heels.
Not more than ten seconds after he left, David came out with my breakfast and placed it down in front of me before walking away without so much as a glance. My plate contained scrambled eggs, a bowl of sliced mixed fruit, and some toast. I had zero intentions to eat any of it, wanting to spite Darren as much as I could, but I had barely eaten anything yesterday and I needed to keep my strength up. I swigged back my vitamins, the burn in my newly sensitive throat making it hard to swallow, and pulled my plate forward. I angrily ate my eggs and scarfed down my fruit, nearly shoving my plate across the table when I was done.
Since I was now once again confined to the walls of the house, I got up and started to wander around, looking at random things, trying to piece together a way to get the fuck out of here. What could I use to successfully escape this place? I needed to break out of this goddamn collar like now. I was running out of time, and I needed to figure something out fast.
I wandered for hours, sat around to think, wandered some more, and then reluctantly ate lunch in the dining room. Pascal could tell I was stressed, so he made me a bowl of homemade chicken noodle soup. Hands down the best soup I’d ever had, especially since it was easy for me to digest.
I then proceeded to aimlessly wander the house some more. I passed several guards here an
d there and the cleaning staff, but no one paid any attention to me. Some of the staff even seemed to hurry away from me when they saw me coming. Didn’t that make me feel special? They’d probably gotten wind of what happened to the gardener and feared any sort of interaction with me would create the same fate for them. I didn’t blame them. They were probably right.
I meandered into the theater and considered watching a movie, but it would only distract me rather than inspire a genius escape plan. I left the theater in a disappointed huff, cutting around a corner too fast and nearly tripped over my own feet. My toes on my right foot began to sting as I looked down to examine it. It was then that I realized I had fully ruined my shoe, the thin black rubber sole now peeling off the tip of my shoe. And then suddenly I froze.
Rubber.
Rubber could block an electric charge. It might not be able to block a GPS signal, but it might be all I needed to get the fuck out just long enough to contact my family. My heart suddenly started to pace. Why hadn’t I thought of this before? I was too focused on getting the damn collar off rather than thinking of a temporary way around it.
Rubber may only be my temporary path to salvation, but maybe that was all I really needed. If I could execute a plan properly, I might be able to escape the estate, but it wouldn’t stop Darren or his men from finding me. Unless by some miracle I found something to cut the collar off before the GPS gave me away. I seriously doubted it.
I nonchalantly made my way back to my room and kicked my shoes off by the bed, nearly swiping them underneath it. The only place I could think of that the cameras couldn’t see. I then sat down at my vanity and looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes landed on the giant bruise on the side of my face, and as I stared intently into the mirror, focusing on everything I currently hated about my life … I finally lost it. I screamed and abruptly stood up, whipping all the makeup, brushes, and tools from the vanity, and knocking them all over the floor, deliberately managing to get several things under the bed.
I gripped my hair and paced the room back and forth, my chest heaving up and down, and adding further evidence to my pretend temper tantrum. I knew eventually Darren would be watching this, and I didn’t want to give him any kind of suspicion of what I was doing before I was even able to accomplish it. To be honest, though, it wasn’t hard to fake.
After several minutes of pacing the room and nearly ripping my own hair out, I finally collapsed on the chaise and sat with my head in my hands over my knees. I shed a few tears, which was understandably easy, and eventually tried to get a grip. When I felt I’d displayed a fine temper tantrum, I began to wipe my eyes with my hands and started to slowly pick up all the makeup I had shoved to the floor. I crawled on my hands and knees until every last blush, brush, and palette was picked up and put back neatly on my vanity. Then I bent low to look under my bed to find several missing lip gloss tubes and eye shadows, along with my broken nude flats.
I slipped under the bed until half my body was covered and immediately began pulling at the remaining glue and strings that held the sole to the shoe. It actually ripped away fairly easy. I quickly removed the other sole with the pair of tweezers and a metal nail file I had conveniently swiped under the bed. I now had two thin rubber soles in my hands, the possible key to my escape. I placed them between my collar and neck and they fit perfectly snug around my throat.
Now, I just needed to find a way to mold them together. I needed some super glue or even a sewing kit would do. I slipped out from under my bed and started rummaging through all my drawers and cabinets, but found nothing in my room, closet, or bathroom. I tried to make it look like I wasn’t looking for something, but it probably wouldn’t convince Darren. Eventually, I wandered back out into the halls until I found one of the offices and started randomly opening drawers, pretending I was just bored and completely disinterested, yet still found nothing of use. But when I got to the second office, my motives were finally noticed.
“Ms. Jaden,” I heard a serious voice say behind me and immediately turned to the guard now standing in the doorway.
“Yes?” I said, addressing him. It was the same guy who had pulled me out of the house the other day. The same guy who helped torture the gardener.
“Looking for something?” he asked me expectedly.
Crap, they were on to me.
“Oh, I was just looking for a sewing kit or maybe some fabric glue,” I said innocently, shrugging my shoulders. “There’s a tear in my dress that I’d like to fix.”
I was sure I could find a tear in this flimsy material somewhere.
The guard aimed his eyes at me with a cautious glare.
“Mr. Davis will buy you a new dress. There is no need to repair it.”
I gave a huff of a laugh, trying to play it off. “Oh, there’s no need for a new dress. It’s just a little tear. I can easily fix it myself.”
“Miss,” the guard pressed with more warning in his voice. “Mr. Davis will buy you a new dress. Per his orders, please find something else to do with your time. Otherwise, you will have to spend the remainder of the day in your room until he returns.” With that, the guard left and disappeared from my sight.
Goddamn, Darren. Now, I had tipped him off. Fuck.
I gave up my pursuit and trudged my way back to my room. What the fuck was I going to do now? I had to find something to hold those soles in place. Otherwise, they would fall out and I’d be fucked and probably dead. Fuck, what else could I do? What resources did I have access to? My hands balled into fists as I paced my room, my fake-ass nails digging into my skin until the pain rearranged my focus. I opened my hands and looked down at my nails and a small lightbulb in my head turned on.
I might not have access to any tape or glue, but maybe some nail glue …
I immediately went and changed into some workout clothes and headed down to the gym. I then proceeded to beat the ever-living piss out of the punching bags, no gloves required. I sent the bag flying all over the place as I kicked and punched with unwrapped hands. Darren still had yet to provide me with a proper pair of gloves so this was what he got. I threw several palm-heel strikes at the bag until my knuckles tore and bled, and even then, I didn’t stop, too pissed off and too determined to break the one thing that might actually save my family. I threw in a few elbows here and there not to make it seem so obvious I was actually trying to break a nail.
And then I finally felt the snap. It hurt like a bitch when one broke, but it had to be done. I looked down at my left hand and smiled at the busted nail. Blood and bruises covered my knuckles, but it was a spectacular kind of pain. A worthy pain that resulted in success. I then completed my workout with a five-mile run on the treadmill and headed back upstairs for a long, hot shower.
I redid my hair and makeup, caking on the concealer again to hide my bruise, and made sure my hair parted the same way. I left my busted nail sharp and cracked to make sure Darren noticed; though I had a feeling the sight of my knuckles would draw his attention first. I’d cleaned all the blood off, disinfected it with rubbing alcohol, and applied an antiseptic. He’d probably be furious since obviously he was the only one allowed to put bruises on me but fuck him. Maybe next time, he should provide me with the proper hand protection I asked for and then we wouldn’t have this problem.
At 5:27 p.m., I made my way downstairs, sat at the dinner table, and waited for Darren to come home. I was all types of pissed off and anxious as I sat there waiting for him like the good little dog I was. And then finally at 5:32 p.m. the master of my universe walked through the door talking on his cell phone. His voice was short and clipped with the person on the other end, making it hard to tell if he was actually angry or if that was just his serious business voice. I’d heard it often and knew that just because he was serious didn’t necessarily mean he was mad. It just meant he was dangerously close.
He ended his conversation and sat down, releasing an exasperated sigh and quickly changed his demeanor. He looked at me with absolute adoration. It was
annoying as fuck.
“And how’s my princess?” he said to me with a smirk.
I wanted to tell him to eat shit and die, but we were already going to fight. Might as well ease into it.
“Tired,” I said lightly as I shrugged, keeping my hands deliberately in my lap for the time being.
“Did you try taking a nap?” he asked me as he stood up and poured himself a short glass of bourbon from the open bar on the wall beside the table.
“No,” I said. “It’s hard to sleep when all I get are nightmares.”
Darren gave me a knowing look.
“They will pass, Jaden. Eventually, you will become desensitized to such things and they won’t bother you anymore.”
“What do you mean I’ll become desensitized? Do you plan to have me sit through more of those torture sessions?”
Darren took a sip of his bourbon as he casually leaned back against the bar, one hand gripping the edge of the solid marble top.
“Yes,” he said simply, lowering his glass to look at me.
“Why?” I asked, saddened and shocked all at the same time.
“I’ve recently realized it will benefit the both of us,” he replied.
“How do you figure that?”
“Because in my world, such sensitivity is considered a weakness, and I can’t have that. My world is very dark and bloody, and though I plan to hide it from you as best I can, there will be times when I simply can’t do that. You will inevitably be exposed to the gruesome and deadly moments of my life, and I’d rather have you prepared than to have to deal with you having a panic attack because you were unprepared in an unexpected situation. It could get you killed, and I will not allow that.”
I scoffed at him. “First of all, we both know I’m no little bitch.” I saw his face twitch with my cussing, but I continued quickly to distract him. “When I was taken, I reacted instinctively and refused to go down without a fight. I didn’t curl up and cower. I’m trained with guns and am plenty used to gunfire. Not to mention I took out two of your guards at the same time during the auction with ease. So don’t try to tell me I can’t handle a little blood and gore.”
