Page 56 of The Devil's Den

“Oh God,” I breathe, clasping a hand over my mouth when I realize where I am. The very basement that’s been Matteo’s home. The little girl wanders across the bare floor, nothing here at all, except a mattress. An eerie feeling creeps up my back.

“Hello?” I call. “Can you see me?”

But they ignore my voice as though I’m not there at all.

“Shhh!” the woman cries. “Please, baby. Stay next to me and be quiet.” When she lifts up her arm, I hold my breath, because her wrist is chained up just like his.

“Will he come back?” the girl asks, wide-eyed.

“Yes, so you have to always stay with me. You hear? Never go with him, even when I’m not here.”

“But what if he makes me, Mommy?”

The woman sobs. “Aida, listen to me, you…”

What did she…? No!I break into a shiver, panting, not hearing the rest of what she said.This is all wrong… N-no.

“Mommy!” The girl runs to her mother and falls into her lap, arms clasped around the woman, and on her small face there’s fear. Too much of it. “He’s coming. The door—it’s…it’s opening.”

Heavy footsteps crash down, and when he appears, I stumble backward, my eyes gaping, my chest clattering, inhales and exhales fighting within me.

Because the man is none other than my father.

Why would he do this to us?

“Please, don’t hurt her,” the woman chokes out. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“You don’t make the rules no matter how good your pussy is.” He chuckles. “Now get up. You gotta get some work done.”

She stands up willingly, clutching the girl in her arms, kissing her hand before kneeling down.

“I love you so much, baby girl. You don’t ever forget it, okay?”

“I love you, Mommy. Please come back. Pinky swear!” The girl sobs. “I don’t like being alone down here.”

“I know you don’t. Pinky swear.” The woman holds out her finger and the girl hooks hers through it. “I’ll do all that I can to come back soon.”

My father takes the chain off her wrist and drags her out, and my eyes can’t stop staring, the tears I didn’t know were there, drifting down my cheeks.

Once our mother is gone, the girl sits alone on the mattress, her knees tucked up to her chin, her arms around them. She rocks slowly as I trek toward her—toward me. That’s when I fully realize…that’s me. That—that was my mom.

My stomach whirls. Nothing makes sense.

So he lied. Mom never died in childbirth. So where is she? Why would my father keep us in the basement? Did he kill her? Where else would she be?

“Mommy,” the little girl whimpers. “I need you. I’m scared.”

“Hey,” I call, my hands quaking, new tears beginning to fall down my cheeks as I make it in front of her. “You’ll be okay. I know you’re scared. I am too. But you’ll find people who love you. I promise.”

Gradually, she lifts her head, swiping under both eyes and that’s when she looks at me as though she sees me. Her brows scrunch as she fits me with a measured stare. “We’ll never be okay.”

I jump up to a seated position, my body rocking, sweat beading on my forehead, my breathing rough as I stare around the room. “What the…” With a palm against my chest, my heart pounds.

The basement. I was in it. With…with my mom? That pinky swear. “Oh God…” I whimper. Is that where I learned it? From her?

Nothing makes sense.

Why would we be there at all? Did he keep us locked away for shits and giggles, just because he could?

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