Page 52 of The Deception You Weave
I look around the room but there's nothing to give me any clue as to where we are. The room is bare, the walls are gray and covered in dark stains. Stains I don't even want to look at, let alone consider what they might be.
There's one window high up on the wall to my left but it's been boarded up, not allowing any light in at all. I have no idea if it's still night or if I've been out long enough for the sun to rise.
Memories of how I found myself here have me looking down. I find I'm not just in my swimsuit but someone has pulled a dirty shirt over my head to cover me up. I'm not sure if I should be grateful or not because it smells like the last person who might have worn it could have died in it.
I shiver as I appreciate for the first time just how fucking cold I am. The bright spotlight that shines on both of us gives off some warmth but it's not enough and before long my teeth start chattering.
"W-where are we?"
"I don't know." I fight the sob that wants to escape my throat at my dad's cold tone.
I look over at him but he doesn't move. His eyes remain fixed on one spot in front of us, but when I look to see what's holding his attention, I don't see anything. That end of the room is in darkness.
"I'm so sorry," I whisper, my voice cracking with emotion.
"Y-you… you're sorry?" He turns to me for the first time, giving me my first full look at his face and I fight to not allow my reaction to show.
"Y-yes. This is all my fault," I all but cry.
"Oh, sweetheart. It's not, please don't think that."
"He… he gave me a job and I failed."
"He what?" Dad roars, his voice bouncing off the silent space around us.
"It doesn't matter now. He told me that if I failed, then he would go after my family, and here we are."
Dad thrashes against his restraints.
"Where are you, you fucking cunt," he screams, pulling so hard at the bindings at his wrists I'm worried he's going to rip his hands clean off.
I have no idea what mine are tied with but Dad's are bound tight with cable ties. Cable ties that are cutting into his skin and causing a puddle of blood on the floor beneath him.
"Calm down," I demand.
"Calm down? Calm fucking down. That cunt has my baby girl bound to a fucking chair." He looks at me, his eyes lingering on the side of my face. From how much it hurts, I hate to think how it looks. "And he fucking hurt you."
"I'm o—"
He pins me with a look that cuts my words off immediately.
"Get out here and face me, you fucking cunt."
I stare at my dad with my chin dropped. It's like he's an entirely different man to the one I grew up with right now. I think I can probably count on one hand the number of times I've heard him swear in my life but he's like a man possessed right now.
I narrow my eyes at him, studying him as spittle flies from his mouth and his body trembles with barely contained rage.
Do I even know my dad at all?
Heavy footsteps coming from the darkness that stops his shouting and after a nerve-wracking thirty seconds, he appears.
Fear races down my spine and Victor's eyes land on mine before they drop in favor of my body.
"That's a shame. I did love what little you were wearing."
Dad's chair rattles as he once again tries to break free.
"Calm down, William. You should be proud of your girl, here. It seems she’s a chip off the old block."
