Page 13 of Reckoning

Madeline

I woke long after he did, blinking into the bright room as Meyer bustled around, dressing in his normal suit and tie. Just before he walked out the door, he leaned over to slice apart the rope holding me together. As the blood rushed to my fingers, my moan escaped into the morning light.

“Don’t make me regret this,” he said before walking out the door.

I laid on the floor for an hour, waiting to see if he would come back as I wondered if this was a trick. But eventually, the light through the windows hit my eyes. I rose and rustled through his drawers, finding several pairs of women’s underwear—all thongs—with more shorts and T-shirts. No bras.

He did promise me different clothes … I guess this is his idea of “nice.”

The events of the afternoon before with Meyer had shaken me. I’d expected the cruelty but not the blunt admission of his sadism. I figured he would want to use my body, but I never imagined I would enjoy it. That I would dream about it as I slept. I chalked it up to trauma and exhaustion, and chose to focus on the fact that I was in less pain than I had been for days. The pills had kicked in, and my ribs were blessedly numb.

Once I dressed, I pulled gently on the door handle. Surprisingly, it was open. I stepped out into the hall on tiptoes, uncertain if I was allowed to leave the room. I had been promised food, and my stomach rumbled unhappily. As if hearing the noise, Joshua stepped around the corner and walked toward me. I shrank back into the doorframe, but he held out his hand in greeting.

“Good morning. Would you like breakfast?”

“What time is it?”

“Only about eight thirty. Plenty of day left. Follow me.”

I stayed on his heels, suddenly afraid of being left behind to fend for myself within the halls. I tried to note the direction we were taking, thinking that after a few hours of real sleep and not unconsciousness brought on by physical trauma, I could devise an escape route. As it turned out, there was no need. The house was relatively small, smaller than I would have expected for someone as wealthy as Meyer Schaf. We were taking the same route we had taken to breakfast before, but this time, the sunny room was empty except for me. Even Joshua hovered out of sight, no doubt watching but unavailable for conversation. I ate in silence, pleased that the act had become a bit less painful. My gums no longer hurt quite so much as I chewed.

I had just finished my food when I heard a door open not far from me, and a female voice greeting and laughing while Joshua was silent. I stood, prepared to bolt, but then realized I had no reason to be afraid. I knew nothing of any female Schaf family members; it was likely another staff member.

That notion shattered the moment the girl entered the room. She was younger than me, with the same golden blond hair Meyer sported and that I knew Conrad had enjoyed in his younger days. It fell in soft waves across her pale face and seemed to punctuate the chirpy smile that was—impossibly—directed at me. Without so much as a hello or an introduction, the stranger walked right to me and pulled me into a hug as if we were already friends.

“How are you, dear? I’m so sorry I haven’t come by sooner. Daddy was being so secretive about what Meyer has been up to, and I only just now figured out you were here.”

She dropped her purse on the ground and fell into the chair Meyer had used the day before, crossing her legs in an elegant movement she must have practiced for years.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” I sat down gingerly, unsure about how to treat this newcomer. “I mean, I can tell you’re related to Meyer, but I didn’t think he had any sisters.”

She rolled her eyes and tossed a golden curtain of hair over her shoulder. “I’m Anita, the baby of the family. Daddy has painfully antiquarian views of a woman’s place in society, as I’m sure you are well aware. He’s kept me out of the public eye so far and probably plans to sell me off sooner or later. I can’t complain, though, because I have everything I need. Give a girl enough diamonds, and personal success doesn’t matter.”

To say I was blown back by her attitude was an understatement. It seemed Conrad wasn’t the only one with certain ideas of how women should behave. Still, she seemed happy enough.

“Anyway, I’m glad I caught you.” She reached across the table and grasped my wrist; her nails were painted a feminine pink but sharpened to dangerous peaks. The tips pressed into my flesh. “Meyer is so private. I never get to see his house, and it’s much more relaxed here than at the main house.”

Main house? Of course, Conrad must live on the property too. There would be no reason for Meyer to leave his father’s land when he had everything he needed here already.

I tried for a smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Her hand waved dismissively. “No, it’s not. You’re bruised to hell and jumping at every shadow. But I think you’ll find me more amenable than Meyer. He and Daddy have always been so close; everything about them just rubs off on each other.”

I had no doubt of her words. I’d seen enough of their cruelty to last me a lifetime. What confused me was how she seemed to be aware of the cruelty but didn’t care about it. Was this so commonplace for her that she would barely bat an eye?

“How many people like me …?”

“People like you? You mean the offspring of Daddy’s ex-girlfriends who have been kidnapped and held hostage? Just you.” She flashed me a smile, teeth brilliant white. “You’re one of a kind.”

My own polite smile faltered. “You make it sound like a good thing.”

“Let me give you some advice.” She cocked her head at me, blond hair grazing the top of the table. When Joshua re-entered the room briefly and set a cup of coffee in front of her, she raised the mug to drink without acknowledging him. “Give Meyer what he wants. He’s never been as bloodthirsty as Daddy. If you’re nice to him, he’ll return the favor.”

Sure. Let him use me as his fuck toy, and he won’t beat the shit out of me anymore.

“I know it seems unconventional, but aren’t all the best love stories like that?” She winked and finished her coffee, then set the empty mug on the table and stood. “Let’s go poke around. I’m never here as much as I’d like.”

She took me around the house, showing me the rooms previously behind locked doors. There was a basement I hadn’t known about before with a home theater where we watched a few episodes of trashy reality TV together. Anita chattered the entire time about her job—secretary work for a middle manager at her father’s company who didn’t care if or when she showed up to work—and her self-care regimen of manicures, pedicures, massages, and facials she had on a bi-weekly rotation.

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