Page 101 of Hell Hath No Fury
The man who'd been staring at me before his boss spoke to him re-focuses his attention on me, and his eyes seem to get even darker as he looks over my naked body.
“Prez?” he questions but doesn’t take his eyes from me.
“Call for backup. No one else comes in here, though,” his boss replies.
The man pulls something out of his pocket. I recognize it as a cell phone. I’ve seen Daddy use one. It seems magical to be able to press a button and speak to someone who’s elsewhere in the world. I’ve read about countries thousands of miles from here, and it amazes me that such a little device could reach someone so far away.
“Heat, we got a situation. We need more bodies down here.” The man speaks into the phone, his voice a deep timbre that sends shivers down my spine.
I can’t hear the reply on the other end, just a deep rumbling that sounds like the voice of another man.
My daddy groans as the man called Prez pulls him up from the floor. His eye is swelling and his nose bleeding. It’s strange seeing the blood coming from him for a change—it’s unnerving. I stroke my hand down my side over my most recent cut. It's about two inches long but not wide. It's healing, but when Daddy stuck the knife into my flesh, it hurt. He said it was because I was naughty and disrespected him by trying to stop him doing the things to me he likes. The ones where he plays with me…down there. I had my monthly bleed at the time, and I felt so dirty not having the ability to wash properly and without any cloths to stop the flow.
Daddy likes it when my period comes. It means I've not made an error like the time I had a baby in my stomach and he beat me until I bled it away. I knew I deserved it, though, because Daddy told me it was all my fault.
I stare at the man speaking on the phone, and his nostrils are flaring with anger as he looks at where my hand rests on my healing wound.
“Prez, you need to get Snake out of here. Heat’s on the way.”
My daddy is led or rather dragged from the room, and it's the first time I start to feel anxious. My palms turn sweaty, and I step closer to the broken door, intending to follow Daddy, but I'm prevented from leaving the room by the chains around my wrists.
"Daddy," I call out but there’s no response. I can't see him anymore. I turn around and realize the big man is still in the room with me. I'd forgotten about him for a moment in my anguish. "Where are you taking him?"
Stringing several words together requires a lot of thought, and I'm already feeling tired—the exhaustion is causing my head to spin. The man must sense it because he places his phone down on the table and rushes forward to grab me, but I scream and jump backward.
"I won't hurt you," he reassures, but I'm scared and not sure if I can trust him.
He's a stranger, but I still can't shake the feeling he's the same as me—filled with darkness.
"Please," I whimper when he takes another step toward me.
He’s wearing a leather cut similar to the one I've seen on Daddy. It has the same emblem, a skull with brightly shining, green eyes and the words ‘Jade Riders’ sewn into the leather. This man’s cut, however, also has a badge with an outline of a man holding a sword on it. Above is the word ‘Caim’. He sees me looking at it, and I quickly lower my eyes to the floor.
“It’s my name. Caim,” he addresses me, and I dare to flick my eyes up to look at him.
He’s handsome, with a square jawline and a mop of brown messy hair.
“Lay…Layla." I hesitate when using my name. It's not what Daddy usually calls me, but I don't want to repeatthatword to the man in front of me. He's full of enough anger, and I don't want to give him anymore reason to hate me.
"Layla," he repeats, and it sounds soft and welcoming. I want to burst into tears, but I know I can’t. Tears have to be reserved for Daddy—they’re his reward for treating me so well. “I’m not going to hurt you, Layla, but I need to come closer." He holds his hands up in the air as though he’s surrendering. "I want to take those chains off your wrists.”
He grabs the sides of his leather cut, and slipping it off, he slowly kneels and places it on the floor. He stands again and pulls his t-shirt over his head. I quickly retreat a few more steps, and I'm back in the dark shadows in the corner of the room, my spine hitting the wall behind me.
“Please. No.” I’m finding it hard to stop the tears, now pooling in my eyes, from falling.
Caim doesn’t say anything as he bends down, and placing the t-shirt on the floor, he retrieves his cut and puts it back on.
He points to the t-shirt. "I’ll get you out of the chains, and then I want you to put this on. There’ll be lots of other men here in a minute, and we need to make sure you’re dressed and feel comfortable."
I shudder.More men.
“You promised they wouldn’t come in here.”
"They won't, but I need to take you out there and to safety."
"Out there?" I exclaim and slide down the wall, bringing my knees up to my chest. "No, I can't."
Continuing to move slowly, Caim comes and sits next to me on the floor. It’s almost pitch black in this corner of the room, but I can just about make out his presence. I feel him more than see him.
