Lily
Although he said he wasn’t hungry, Cason eats yet another meal I make him, this time bacon and scrambled eggs. Not exactly my finest culinary creation, but the satisfied look on his face when he finally sets his fork down on his empty plate says it’s enough.
“You enjoyed your food?”
He slowly nods. “It was fine. I have work to do today, so you’ll have to stay in your room so you don’t get in the way.”
I don’t say anything, but my expression doesn’t hide how much I don’t want to be stuck inside on such a gorgeous day. The sun’s shining, and I’m going to be trapped in my room like a real prisoner, just like that first day at his apartment.
Standing up, he shoves his stool back, sending it skittering across the tile until it tips over and crashes to the floor. This sudden explosion of anger stuns me, and it seems to enrage him.
“Do you want me to tie you up? I can do that and be perfectly happy, Lily. Your choice. You either get to spend the day in your room, or I tie you up. What’s it going to be?” he barks in my direction.
I don’t know why he’s so angry all of a sudden, but I frantically shake my head at his mention of tying me up again. “No, please don’t do that, Cason. I’ll stay in my room. I’m fine.”
But even my answer doesn’t make the darkness that’s come over him disappear.
Leaning toward me from the other side of the kitchen island, he glares at me full of more rage than I’ve seen before in him. In a low voice, he says just an inch away from my face, “This isn’t a fucking vacation, little girl. You seem to be confused. You don’t get to be fine this week. You’re not out here to have a good time. We aren’t playing house.”
His words echo off the walls around us as I stare up in horror at how enraged he is. About what, I have no idea. The bar stool tipping over? My asking how his breakfast was? I don’t know.
All I do know is whatever I thought might have improved between us after last night doesn’t exist. I’m still just some stranger he’s holding hostage, someone he doesn’t give a damn about and will tie up if he wants to.
I nod my understanding of his threat, but he barely sees it before he storms out of the kitchen. A few seconds later, I hear the front door slam, and I exhale the breath I’ve held inside me from the moment he began yelling.
This episode is no worse than anything else in the time since he took me from my home, but as I stand at the island looking down at his empty plate, I can’t stop my hands from shaking.
It’s stupid, really. I should have known better than to think one night would have changed anything or a few home cooked meals could change how he sees me.
Shuddering, I take a deep breath in and remind myself of what my father always says. “Rome wasn’t built in a day.” I can’t give up on my plan. He needs to see me as a human being whose life is worth something, as opposed to someone he doesn’t know and doesn’t need to consider before he kills them.
Before he kills me.
My hands trembling, the silverware and plates clank off one another as I move them to the sink. His plate slips out of my hand and crashes into the stainless steel basin, breaking into pieces. It’s nothing, but suddenly, it’s too much. I back away from the mess, shaking my head as tears begin to run down my cheeks.
Burying my face in my hands, I let out every ounce of emotion cooped up inside me right there in that kitchen in someone else’s house, a home that’s my prison and may be the last place I’m seen alive. I feel foolish crying like this, but what the hell does it matter anyway? I’m alone, so who cares if I spend the whole day crying?
A noise from the hallway startles me, and I turn around to see a man I’ve never seen before standing in the doorway. He’s tall and ominous, much like Cason, but he seems just as confused to see me as I am to see him there.
“Sorry. I didn’t know anyone was up here. I came to check the place and found the door unlocked,” he says in a deep voice.
I shake my head as I wipe the tears from my cheeks. “No, I’m here. I have to stay here, and I just finished breakfast. I was just going to wash the dishes, but one broke and…”
Even though he doesn’t seem annoyed by my longwinded explanation, I let my words fade to nothingness, leaving the two of us staring at one another once more. I don’t know what to say to this person. Is he like Nate, or is he like Cason? He’s dressed like them in a dark blue T-shirt and jeans.
Unlike both men, though, he seems older. Wrinkles around his eyes make me want to put him in his mid-thirties. Or maybe he just likes to smile a lot. That can cause crow’s feet to appear early. He hasn’t shaved today, and his stubble looks almost grey next to his tan skin and dark hair. More evidence he’s older than the two men I’ve been around here so far.
After a few seconds, he extends his hand and walks toward me. “Excuse my manners. I’m Doc.”
I can’t stop myself from instantly thinking he has a name that matches one of the seven dwarfs. I don’t say that, but it’s impossible not to make the connection. Even if it’s a nickname, he’s chosen one from a cartoon character.
As if he can read my mind, he smiles at me. “Yes, like the dwarf. Who are you?”
Pressing my hand into his, I feel calluses on his palms rub roughly against my skin. “I’m Lily.”
Nodding, he smiles as he releases his hold on my hand. “Nobody told me we’d be having anyone at the house today. You must be a guest of the boss’s.”
Disappointed to hear him mention the same person I know may give the order to end my life, I shake my head sadly. “I’m not his guest. I’m here with Cason.”
A flash of something appears in his eyes, instantly making me uneasy. Does he know Cason? That would mean he knows he’s a killer and likely thinks I’m his next victim.
“Oh, Cason. Not a guest of his either, I’m guessing, though.”
Doc’s words sound kind, like he doesn’t approve of who Cason is and what he does. Is it possible he might help me?
I force a smile and nod. “Not really. What do you do here?”
“Security. I’ve been off for the past few days,” he says before noticing the bar stool tipped over on the floor. As he stands it upright and slides it under the island countertop, he adds, “When did you get here?”
“Yesterday.” I hesitate to tell him the truth, but if he’s to help me, I have nothing to lose now. “I’m here for another six days—no five, after today—and then I either get to go home or I die.”
Doc doesn’t even blink a single eyelash after I drop that bomb into our conversation. I watch to see any reaction, but nothing changes in his expression. It remains as calm and pleasant as before I mentioned dying at the end of the week.
“It’s not like Cason to take prisoners. He’s more of a shoot-first-ask-questions-later kind of guy. You must have been very convincing for him to let you live an extra week.”
My hopes fall through the floor, and I sigh in utter disappointment. Turning away from Doc, I go back to the sink to clean up the mess. “I didn’t convince him of anything. He took me to make sure my father paid back some money he owes your boss. If he doesn’t pay, I get to go live with the angels. If he does, I get to go back to my life.”
“Well, whatever you did, I can tell you he’s not the type to let people live,” he says with more than a hint of amazement in his voice.
How nice to find yet another person who has no interest in helping an innocent woman escape from her captor. I can’t wait to meet all the useless pieces of shit working here so they can all be as unhelpful as this one and Nate.
“Thanks for that piece of information. I’ll keep it in mind as I’m held here like a fucking prisoner,” I mumble under my breath and then turn on the water to drown out any other useless tidbits of information this guy has to offer.
When I finish washing my breakfast dish and the silverware, I toss the broken pieces of plate into the garbage. Doc is nowhere to be found, so I walk back to my room where I’ve been told to stay.
The room that had seemed so welcoming now feels like my own personal jail. Exhausted after only being awake for an hour, I sit down on the edge of my bed and try to tell myself this will all be over in a few days. My father will pay Cason’s boss the money he owes, and I’ll be able to return to my life.
Assuming he doesn’t go back on his word and kill me just for shits and giggles.
I don’t want to believe that will happen, but everything around him makes no sense, so why should he? Grown men see me here and know I’m being held against my will, and yet they do nothing. This place looks like the perfect setting for a vacation, but in truth, I’m serving a sentence courtesy of Cason.
So much for chivalry not being dead. Here, at this house, it’s dead and every one of these men probably took turns killing it.
With nothing to do, I lay back and close my eyes, imagining what prisoners in jail do with their days. I honestly have no idea since I’ve never even known anyone who saw the inside of a police station, much less a cell. Everyone I know lives a boring life like I do.
Or at least like I used to.
As I drift off to sleep, I think about what I’d be doing right now if I were home. For as boring as calling my friend Kat and making plans to meet up with her for lunch used to sound, now as I imagine that very commonplace thing, it sounds like heaven.
“Did you stay in here all day?” Cason asks in his usual brusque way.
I look up at him, still hazy from sleep, and nod. “What time is it?”
“Five o’clock. Answer the question.”
My eyes focus on him standing over the bed staring down at me. His expression tells me he’s upset about something. Frowning, his narrowed eyes hide just how angry he is, but I’ve learned in the short time around him what his rage looks like.
“Yes,” I answer, rolling over onto my side as fear of him takes hold of me once again.
“Then how did you get to meet Doc? Didn’t figure I’d find out, did you?”
Now Cason’s eyes are wide and flashing that fury I knew was simmering inside him. I’m not sure what he’s so angry about, but I’m unfortunately on the receiving end of it.
I slowly sit up and look at him as the last remnants of sleep sadly fade from my brain and I have to deal with the reality that is my life. At least for the next few days.
“He came into the kitchen right after you left. I didn’t leave. I stayed in the house, like you told me I had to.”
Cason shakes his head, and once more, his eyes narrow. “I told you to stay in this room all day, not to stay in the house. Those are two different things entirely.”
“You don’t have to worry about that Doc guy or anyone else helping me. They’re all just like you.”
In a flash, Cason’s hand shoots out to grab my neck, and he lifts me off the bed. I hang in the air from his fingers that press hard into my flesh, threatening to cut off my air supply. Frantic, I flail my arms and pull at his to release me, but he stands perfectly still just staring into my eyes.
“Don’t concern yourself with Doc. You’re the problem, Lily. You seem to think this is some week-long spa vacation for you where you lounge around in the bathtub and chit chat with the help to pass the time.”
His voice is eerily calm, like nothing he’s sounded like before. I can feel myself getting lightheaded as he speaks and pull hard at his arms to free myself, scraping my fingernails across his skin.
But he doesn’t flinch. He simply holds me at the end of his arm like some fish he’s caught that he doesn’t enjoy.
“Do you understand, Lily?”
I rasp out, “Yes,” as I desperately scramble to pry his fingers from my neck.
My answer is all it takes to be freed, and as quickly as he shot out his hand to grab me, he opens his hand and releases me. I fall to the floor gasping for air while pain in my throat makes me feel like I’ve swallowed a red-hot coal.
I hear him breathing above me, but I’m too afraid to turn around. I know I should. I don’t want to be surprised by the next move he makes, but I can’t force myself to look up at him. The hate in his eyes is too much for me to bear at this moment when all I can do is struggle to get air into my lungs.
“Get up, Lily.”
Every fiber of my being silently screams, “No! Fuck you! I don’t want to get up. I don’t want to look at you or do anything for you. Fuck off and die!”
I know even a moment’s hesitation might worsen any punishment he has in store for me, so while those words echo in my brain, I do as I’m told and push myself up to my feet. I don’t look at him, though, unable to make certain what appears in my eyes won’t tell him the truth of how I feel.
He has to think I’m the same person as always. Helpful. Compliant. Obedient. I have to make him think I’m still that.
But as if he knows better, he grabs my jaw and forces me to face him. “Look at me.”
Tears prick at the back of my eyes, but I stop them from escaping, unwilling to look as weak as I feel at this moment. I want to spit in his face to show him how much I hate him for what he’s done. My plan to placate him and convince him that I’m a person is supplanted by my desire to make him see what I truly think of him, but I can’t let that rule me.
So instead, I repeat my mantra over and over as he stares into my eyes. I have a body, and I can use it. I don’t have a weapon or strength, but I have my body.
And then I add two new lines to my mantra. Let him do what he will. I won’t break.
“You are not to speak to Nate or Doc again. Next time, I won’t be so understanding.”
It’s a Herculean struggle to not show in my expression how utterly ridiculous I think his words are, but I silently fight against the urge to let my face show that. Understanding? He has no concept of the word. It’s a completely foreign concept to someone like him.
But I know he requires me to answer, so I do as I must and give him what he wants to hear. “I won’t.”
“Good. Trust me, you’ll thank me someday.”
His statements just keep getting more and more ridiculous. I’ll thank him someday? For what? Not talking to two men who wouldn’t lift a finger to help me get away from this fucking place and him?
I say nothing to that because I have no response that won’t get me choked again. The only thing I’ll ever be thankful for concerning Cason is when I hear someone has rid the world of him.
“Now, go downstairs and cook us a nice dinner,” he says with a smile that seems wholly out of place at this moment. “I brought some groceries back, so use them to make something good. You can find the rest of what you need in the cabinets.”
He acts like some doting husband who’s done me a favor by bringing food home for me to make him. Just the way he stands there smiling makes me want to reach out and smack that stupid grin off his face.
I move to leave, but he stops me. “When we finish with dinner, I have a surprise for you. I got you something I thought you’d like,” he says in a voice far softer than just a minute before.
Instantly, a thought flashes through my mind. Something I’ll like? My freedom, you fuck? Or maybe some dignity to replace the utter fear you want to fill me with.
He’s gotten me something I’ll like while he was out working, which in his world means killing someone. I can’t imagine what he could offer me that I’d want, but once more, I need to pretend his words don’t utterly disgust me.
I force yet another smile and push out of my mouth the words I need to say so he doesn’t hurt me again. “Thank you.”
His fingers release my arm, and I hurry out of my room into the hallway. Nothing he could give me will ever make me feel anything but revulsion for him. I don’t care what it is or how nice whatever this thing may be.
But I’ll pretend to love it because I’ve figured him out. Feed him. Fuck him. Flatter him. So he’ll free me. I didn’t realize how important that third F was, but now I do.
He’s bothered by me talking to those two men because even though they have no intention at all to help me escape from him, just having them be nice to me hurts his ego. So flatter him I will.
And if I’m ever able to, I’ll include a fourth F.
Fucking kill him.
