Page 3 of Bared Betrayal
One
KALLIE
Two weeks earlier
It’spitch black all around me. It’s like the shadows swallowed me whole. All I feel is the cold of the concrete wall against my naked back. It makes me shiver, but at least it soothes the pattern of burning welts and broken skin. He was angry tonight. Really angry.Good.
I shift onto my knees and slowly crawl across the wooden floors, the planks pressing against the open wounds on my legs. But I hardly feel it anymore. Avoiding physical pain is no longer engraved into my instinct to survive. On the contrary, the pain reminds me I’m alive. My body has adjusted to it and come to understand it. When the pain stops, it’s as if the breath of life stops. That’s how demented this is.
My fingers touch the cold steel bars and wrap around them. I hold my breath, listening. When I hear it, relief soaks through my soul. She’s sleeping. The soft, rhythmic sounds of her breathing make it all worth it. The pain. The torture. The sharp edges of his wrath. Tomorrow, I’ll make sure he does it again.
Finally, I can let my guard down, knowing I’ve survived another day, so I sink into darkness, lying down on my side, curling my knees upward into me. I close my eyes, and my naked body becomes heavy. For a moment, I’m aware of every ache, cut, and inch of broken skin right before I slowly drift away from this prison. Away from him.
Music starts to blast, shaking the bars, and I jolt awake. Before I can scramble onto my feet, the old wooden door is jerked open, the hinges crying as metal scrapes against metal, a burst of flashing lights slicing through the darkness. My heart instantly lodges in my throat, and I cover my eyes against the harsh, flickering white lights. All I can see is his tall, menacing frame—his shoulders broad and monstrous as evil cuts along the outline of his face. The music is so loud my chest vibrates to the rhythm of the heavy base. I know what it means. The music, the flashing lights. It means the devil wants to play. But he’s not looking at me. He’s looking at her. He wants to play with her.
No. No. No.
“Kallie?”
The flashing lights don’t stop. It’s blinding, and the music smothers my screams.
“Kallie? Are you listening to me?”
Another light flashes, and I’m staring out the window in the passenger seat.
“Kallie?”
A hand touches my shoulder, and I jerk away, snapping my gaze to the side only to see Sebastian stare at me with worry. “Are you okay?”
I swallow hard and close my eyes for a second, taking a deep breath, forcing myself out of the nightmare and back to reality. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
No.
“It seemed like you were somewhere else for a moment.”
“No. I’m here,” I assure him as reality’s relief brushes over my shoulders.
“You didn’t even respond to the movie script I told you about. It’s going to be a real breakthrough in crossing over to another category of film.”
The relief is fleeting. Sebastian continues to drone on about his new project, and I am reminded of the distance growing between us since he became the center of attention.
“I’m sorry,” I say, running my fingertips along my temples. “Can we just go home and order takeout?”
“We’re already here.” Sebastian straightens his tie. “Besides, we got all dressed up for tonight, so we might as well make the best of it.”
I swipe at a strand of my vanilla blonde hair, brushing it out of my face. I knew going out was a bad idea. Memories of past nightmares are strongest this time of year—when the Chicago winter is colder, more vicious and cruel, counting another year since my life got stolen from me and I was forced to take another.
I stare out the passenger side window, squinting at the frenzy of flashing lights blending together. They’re like hordes of vultures that caught the scent of dead flesh. How can he stand this? “I just don’t know how they figured out we’d be here.”
“It’s the paparazzi, Kallie. They know everything.”
“This is insane. I mean, how are we even supposed to get inside?”
“I’ll get out first. Wave a few times before opening your door. Hopefully, that will appease them.”
“I hate this,” I mutter, but he’s already out of the car, waving at everyone who flocks closer to get a glimpse of him. Sebastian Stone. The new face on the Hollywood scene. A gallery owner who caught the eye of a film director and became an overnight sensation. My boyfriend. And now a famous movie star. It sounds like the best ‘dreams-do-come-true’ story, but to me, it’s turning into a nightmare. All the attention and eyes on us make my skin crawl. I’m terrified of being in the public eye, of having so much attention on me. I like my quiet life, obscure from the public, working on my art. Painting is the only time I feel like I can express what is inside me. The canvas for my work is the landscape for my story. The story I’ve hidden for so many years.
