Page 61 of Chains

I look around, the dimly lit cell with its crumbling walls and musty smell feels like a tomb that has swallowed me whole. I haven’t seen Caleb since he brought me here, though I heard another man’s voice on the same night, but never got to see who it was, and didn’t recognize it. Haven’t seen either man since.

I experienced complete paralysis for a whole day because of the drug Caleb had administered, but it eventually wore off and I’ve regained some ability to move my limbs.

I’ve had water, but no food, and my stomach is completely empty. I’ve had time to think about what the bastard wants from me, and for the life of me, I don’t understand any of this. I hear a loud groan, something I’ve heard off and on since I’ve been here, but have seen nothing that tells me that there’s someone else here.

I can hear shuffling and more groans coming from outside of my cell. I see the same two men who had accosted me at the nightclub on the night I went out with the girls of the Devil’s Carnage MC behind him and my dread grows exponentially when I see they’re dragging someone towards my cell.

“Look who’s up and about.” he speaks as though he’s welcoming a guest into his home, and it makes me sick. “I brought you a cellmate. Thought you might be bored.”

I gasp, seeing for the first time who’s being dragged inside the cell.

My eyes widen to the size of saucers, and I want to break out of this cell and rip apart the man I lived with and gave my body to for so long, and thought I was in love with.

“What have you done to my father?” I demand on a snarl, taking in my father’s battered face and body, wanting nothing more than to launch myself at the bastard I was stupid enough to marry. But still suffering from the aftereffects of the drug he gave me, I’m weak, cold and hungry. I tried to keep the tears at bay at the thought of how long my father was in this bastard’s clutches before he kidnapped me? I’d been trying to contact him for days without success. And now I know why.

“He didn’t want to come willingly, so I had to make him.” Caleb replies matter-of-factly, as though he were reading from a restaurant menu.

“So, what? You beat the shit out of my father?”

Caleb curls his upper lip as he glares at me. I was stupidly going to attempt to overpower him, or at the very least, take him by surprise and make my escape, or try to. But now I know he has my father; he’s made sure I can’t do anything without risking mine or my father’s life.

Quick as a flash, he removes a gun which was tucked into his shoulder holster, and points it at my dad; I can’t help but scream. The gun glinting ominously in Caleb’s hand, a menacing symbol of control and the ultimate threat. Casting a shadow of fear over every decision I make.

“I’ve left you alone for a few days to think about what you want to do, but now it’s crunch time. I’m tired of waiting, so what will it be? You stopping this little show of defiance and coming home with me, or am I shooting your father, and he bleeds out.”

He cocks the gun; my father’s battered face and broken body lie limp in the arms of the burly men. A testament to the cruelty and violence Caleb is capable of.

Tears are cascading down my cheeks. Everything seems so hopeless.

“Okay, okay. Please, just don’t hurt him. I’ll come with you.” I scream. Hopefully, he leaves my father alone, and I can somehow overpower him and get away and get some help.

He gives a silent signal to the men, and they take my father out of the cell.

“What are you going to do with him?” I demand.

“If you behave, he won’t suffer the same fate as your slut of a mother,” he grunts. I wrap my arms around myself and shake my head. He wouldn’t have done anything to my mother, they always got along. Would he?

I would have liked nothing more than to launch myself at him and scratch his eyes out. But I needed to bide my time, I didn’t want him using the gun on me before I could take it from him.

For the first time since he arrived, I noticed he was carrying some sort of package and dumping it in front of me.

“Now, get dressed. We’re going for a drive,” he tells me before turning on his heel and locking the door to the cell before leaving me alone again.

How did this become my life? How did I ever think getting involved with Caleb to piss off Bodie was a good thing? I look at the package as though it’s a snake about to strike, but I reluctantly open it, discovering clothes inside—If that’s what you can call the thin piece of gossamer material that barely covers anything. What the hell is he planning? But if he thinks I’m just going to meekly do and say whatever he wants, he’s got another thing coming. I can see he’s unravelling, first he’s saying he wants to sell me off, then he wants to keep me for himself. It’s clear he’s becoming more and more dangerous by the hour.

Tossing the dirty T-shirt aside, I yearned to have a shower, or even some clean water, to wash my face at least.

But unfortunately, the asshole hadn’t afforded me the luxury of water with which to wash myself, so I just quickly dressed in the clothes he left for me, scrunching my nose at the fact he hadn’t included a bra and panties.

It’s then I realize he must be taking me to the person he’s sold me to, and I’m unable to stop the tears from falling down my cheeks.

Resigned to my fate; I feel the weight of inevitability press upon my shoulders, extinguishing any flicker of hope and leaving me adrift in a sea of despair. Having given up hope of ever seeing Chains again; I was going to get myself as far away from this asshole as I could. Even if my escape attempt failed, I know I did all that I could do.

Caleb returns just as I’m running my fingers through my tangled hair, his eyes slowly running over me, the so-called clothes doing nothing to cover my completely naked body. I want nothing more than to spit in his face, but I don’t want to anger him any further so as not to take it out on my father. So, I lower my eyes meekly.

Taking a deep breath, I force myself to stand there under his watchful gaze. “You’re beautiful. And you’ll be mine again in every sense of the word. I won’t let you embarrass me in front of my work colleagues again,” he says, and it’s like he’s talking to himself. He reaches out to touch my face; instinctively, I flinch away from his touch, seeing the way his jaw hardens.

“Come on,” he tells me harshly, his gun again making an appearance, telling me with it to move.

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