Page 39 of A Debt of Darkness

Henry backs away and I stare at him, channeling all my rage and hurt into the look of betrayal.

“I don’t need your forgiveness, Ivy. I need your compliance. Your obedience. Your acceptance. Everything else comes after.” He steps back until he’s standing in the doorway. “You stay in here until I’m satisfied you accept me as your Master. That’s all you have to do, pet. Ask me for something and we’ll go from there.”

I wonder if Henry going away and dying would be a request he’d consider. He stares at me and his eyes narrow suspiciously, almost as if he’s read my thoughts and is far from amused.

“You’re safe, pet. It isn’t as comfortable as you or I would like, but it is safe.”

I scoff and Henry’s fingers whiten as they grip the door harder. His exterior is composed and he’s in control, but he’s in turmoil too. He doesn’t like this either and I don’t like knowing that fact. It means he’s doing this even though he knows it’s despicable. He thinks this is for the best and he’s committed to seeing it through until the end.

It also means he cares.

I wish he didn’t.

“Did you want anything, pet?”

I roll over, turning my back and remaining silent.

The cell door closes and the door locks, leaving me on my own. Henry's decided he needs to break me and I'm determined he won't. It's a battle I can't afford to lose, but the odds are stacked against me.

I can’t see any way out of here except through Henry, and I ask myself how I’m going to survive this. I stare at the wall and ask again, hoping for an answer. The wall stares back at me and refuses to answer, leaving me to decide my fate.

12

THE LESSER OF TWO EVILS

IVY

My knees tuck underneath me as I brace against the cold. It isn’t going to hurt me but it makes me uncomfortable, as does everything else in this goddamn awful place. I’m sure it’s getting colder every day and I bet Henry’s behind it. He’ll have figured out a way to drop the temperature little by little, ramping up the pressure until I break.

I’m hungry. I’m tired. I’m filthy. I’m bored out of my mind and anxious as hell. I’m sleep-deprived and on the verge of hallucinating.

And I refuse to give in.

We’re on day three of this battle of attrition. Henry expected me to cave by now and he seemed surprised when I threw the bowl of soup in his face. The asshole didn’t replace it and I resorted to drinking water to stave off the hunger pangs.

Yesterday was hard.

I know it.

Henry knows it.

I know he knows it and he knows I know he knows.

We both know the war being waged, and Henry thinks the outcome is predetermined. I’m fucking going to prove him wrong, even if that means hurting myself.

The metal key turns in the lock and my eyes dart to the door. I relish and loathe the sound in equal measure. Henry’s the only one who comes in here and I hate him, but his company is a distraction from the monotony of being in this fucking miserable cell.

The hinges creak and I force myself to look away. My heart’s racing and I’m excited he’s here. It’s time with someone and I’m missing simple things like conversation. Food too, but I miss his company more than anything else.

“Morning, pet.”

He steps through the door, and I glare at him. He exhales more forcefully than he needs, hoping for a different response.

“How are you?”

I tilt my head and search for a response that does justice to how I feel. Words aren’t strong enough, no matter which ones I choose. I don't want him to know I'm struggling or give away what I'm finding hardest about this tortuous situation. He'll weaponize it or see it as a sign I'm softening.

“I asked a question, pet.”

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