Page 56 of In Love with the Devil

“I'm sorry.”

“What?” He turns on the light and the terror that is my cell disappears, leaving me open-mouthed, shocked, scanning the room, not believing this is real.

“I’m-I’m sorry. I thought–”

“You thought I’d taken you back down there? I told you, as long as you don’t try anything, I won’t.”

“Is it okay if we leave the light on?”

“Sure, Astoria.”

Julian get up, walks over to the bathroom, and turns the light on there, leaving the door only a little bit ajar.

Chapter twenty-five

Three

Astoria

I've been so anxious to see and feel the sun again but my eyes can't even handle a second of it.

When I wake at the crack of dawn and he's still asleep by my side, I slowly walk up to the glass wall, and part the curtains, feeling as if I'm committing a crime. Several times I peek back to confirm I'm still safe to enjoy the amazing sight before me.

A whole part of the sky is black, waiting for the morning light to sweep in. While there are still stars twinkling in the dark, an explosion of colors expands in the light. Below me is an enormous grass field, a few scattered trees, and in the distance, a forest. Slowly, all traces of night disappear. The sun shines its brightest rays as if it were welcoming me back. My first true smile, since he took me, spreads on my lips. I can see.

"Astoria," his husky voice calls with disapproval. I stiffen, scared of what he'll do or say, but turn my head to see him. "Put your glasses on." Everything becomes grey when I obey him. "Come." He pats the bed several times as if he were calling a pet.

On the bed, he wraps his arms around my body and pulls me to him. If he only knew how sick and tired I am of this room. I tense at the feel of his nakedness, especially when he spreads soft kisses on my nape. He's like an oven, warming up all of my back.

When he stops, I notice my body is left craving more. I wince and close my eyes tight, hating myself. For two weeks he hasn't touched me with any sexual intention, yet here I am, craving it. I force myself to remember him raping me at my place, the spanking, stabbing, and whipping but my memory drags me in too deep, as if it were happening all over again. I shake my head. In trying to return to the present, a moan mixes into my heavy breathing, and I fist my hand not remembering it's under his.

His hold tightens around me, when I try to pull away. “Shh…" The sound grounds me. Does he know what just happened? Does he know it's because of him? "Do you want to join me for breakfast downstairs?” I never thought he'd let me leave this room.

He rolls out of bed after I nod and turn to face him, unable to hide the glee from my face. “That would be great. Can I have some clothes? Please? Maybe we… Can we go outside after?”I show too much of my happiness. Big mistake. Julian doesn't trust me being happy.

He stops picking up all the dinnerware we've accumulated and a scowl fills his expression, as if I’ve insulted him.Walking on eggshells, I explain, “I’m sorry. I honestly just want to be outside. I promise I won’t try anything.”

He doesn’t answer me. Shortly after, he removes my collar, then hands me a new short cotton nightgown. He extends his hand toward me and says, “Let’s go.”

Julian follows me through a hall, down a wooden stairway to the first floor. It’s an open living plan, so he can see where I am at all times. While he prepares breakfast, I slowly walk around, taking in how my captor–rapist decorates his home. There are bookshelves everywhere and opened medical books on the couch. So he wasn’t lying. I pick one of them up and read a little, not understanding anything.

“Why don’t you put some music on?” His voice startles me back to the present. He points his chin toward his record player. It’s music I don’t usually listen to, a lot of classical and jazz. I pick jazz. Mom says classical music is for funerals.Mom…I wonder how she’s doing? My heart physically aches. More than her, I wish I could talk to and hug Mindy. Will I ever see them again? I sigh… Even if I do, it will never be the same. I hope Mindy knows I never wanted this. The music fills the room with piano, cello, bass, and trombone. The first song is silly, cheering me up. The second song is slow, something I’d rather listen to on a rainy, cold day under some cozy sheets.

I have no idea where the door to the basement is. There’s no sign of it. The five locks on the front door stare back at me, sending a chill straight to my heart. I’m not sure how long I stare atthem, but when my trance breaks and I turn my eyes to him. His expression dares me to try escaping.

“Breakfast is ready.”I'm walking on thin ice is what his words truly convey.

I nod, walk to the kitchen island, and sit on one of three stools. “Cafe con leché.” The minute I see it, my mouth waters.

“Yeah. Isn’t that how you like it?”

I nod again, and when I take the first gulp, the strength of the coffee and the sweetness of the milk satisfy every craving I’ve ever had. It’s heaven. It’s exactly how Mom always made it for me–nothing like the coffee shop’s version. It’s as if he sprinkled magic into it.I open my eyes to find him sitting next to me, enjoying my reaction, sipping on his coffee as if he is keeping a secret from me. He’s proud of having made me feel this pleasure. For a minute, I hate that he has, but I need to enjoy something in my day despite him, so I ignore his cunning smile. “It’s perfect,” I praise.

He takes a bite of his omelet. It’s awkward because I don’t know when the nuclear bomb is going to detonate.“So. What’s the deal with your mother?” he asks.

“Deal?”

“Mm-hmm. She treats you like shit and you bow to her like a puppy who pissed all over the floor. And what happened to your father?”

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