Page 21 of Uncaged Obsessions

“Almost,” I call out. My muscles are starting to ache now that they aren’t being used and the adrenaline isn’t coursing through me as strong as before.

“I want you to be presentable. Actually do your hair and makeup and try to look like a fucking woman for once.”

I hear his footsteps retreat and I flip off the door like I’ve done every day. But maybe I will do what he says this one time. Tap into Maxine, the woman who did what she was told with a fake ass smile on her face.

Except this time, instead of crying behind closed doors, I’m going to stay strong and refuse to lose myself again. I’ll never truly go back, but I can pretend in order to get back to my life.

Carson has had some clothes brought to me, along with every makeup and hair item I could ever want, though they’ve remained unopened and untouched. Until now.

I end up picking out a dress I would’ve worn before; the cut is conservative so I don’t have to deal with any “whore” comments. It’s deep purple with long sleeves and a hem that falls just below my knee. The top is fitted, but not too tight and the bottom has a small flare. I curl my hair and put on some makeup, making sure to keep it looking natural. Then, I slip into my single act of rebellion—the four inch black patent leather pumps that Carson’s going to hate because he doesn’t like when I’m too tall.

It doesn’t matter that I’m five foot one on a good day and he’s at least five foot ten. I already know he’s going to say that these are too tall. I want to stab his eye with the heel for it already.

I leave my prison cell before he comes back to bother me again, finding him sitting in his office that I pass on my way downstairs. I step into the doorframe and wait for him to notice me.

It doesn’t take long for him to look up from his computer, sitting back with a smirk on his face as his eyes trail my body, clearly pleased. I fight to keep every ounce of disgust from showing on my face. I also have to fight off the nausea when I fold my hands in front of myself and ask, “How do I look?”

He pushes back from the desk, and turns to approach me. I remain standing in the same spot, although I knot my fingers together as he closes the distance between us.

“Perfect. You look like I have my old Maxine back.” He runs his hand along my cheek and I clench my jaw so tight I’m worried my teeth will crack. “Too bad when I look at you, all I can see is a fucking slut.”

He removes his hand roughly, and I bite back the urge to plow my fist into his face. I’d break my hand, but it would be the most satisfying pain I would ever feel in my life. He walks past me as I stand there, silently fuming.

I just have to hold it together for a little while longer. This isn’t forever. Unlike before, I’ve seen what freedom is like. I’ve seen what my life could be.

I’ve seen what life is like with three certain men, and I will do anything to get all of that back.

This dinner isas awful as I thought it would be.

My parents showed up and were as cold as ever. My mother looked me over, silently scrutinizing, but seemed pleased with what she saw. Though of course she didn’t say anything. My dad greeted me with a head nod before turning to Carson and shaking his hand, dismissing me in the process.

I’ve noticed that Carson’s personal chef has been giving me smaller portions, and it’s even more obvious tonight when I can see everyone else’s plate. I want to talk to them tomorrow and tell them to knock this shit off because they work for me too. Even if the words burn my mouth.

“So, we are thinking two weeks until the wedding,” my mother announces.

I choke slightly on the bite of chicken I just took. “That’s soon.”

“Yes, well, you would already be married if it weren’t for your little stunt”—she gives me a pointed look—“We had plans in place. Carson had to change a lot of things around, you know?”

If she’s expecting an apology she’s not about to get it. Instead, I take another bite of food, chewing slowly.

“Yes, well, two weeks sounds good,” my dad agrees. “After the wedding, Carson and I will have a lot of work to do, so your honeymoon will have to wait.”

“What work are you going to have to do?” I question, and my mother makes a noise that draws my attention to her.

“Maxine, we don’t need to know things like that when it has to do with business.”

Right. The role of a woman in this world is to be seen and not heard. Just to exist and not question anything going on around her.

Fuck. That.

That was never going to be me, and the fact that everyone at this table expected that to be my life shows just how much they don’t know me.

“You obviously can’t wear your dress. Who knows what you did with it, plus…” My mother looks at me with contempt. “It’s not like it would fit now.”

I don’t dare tell her she’s more than welcome to dig through the dump in Nevada to try and find it so we can see if it still fits me or not.

“So, we can go dress shopping tomorrow, Maxine. I may be able to talk to Abigail to see if we can get the same venue. If not, I’m sure she’ll figure something out. She’s the best for a reason.”

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