Page 139 of Spark

“I enjoy the fight in you,” he said softly “Almost too much. But I also love it when you submit. You’ve officially created a new thrill for me, princess. I love to conquer, and with you, I get to do that every day, over and over, and it never gets old. Your strength is intoxicating the air I breathe, and it seems I have become addicted to it. And the only way I know how to get my fix is to get you to push me. Which is very easy, by the way.”

I released the breath I had been holding as I contemplated his explanation. “So in other words, you enjoy being my schoolyard bully.”

“Is that how you see me? As a bully?”

“All you do is take, and I’m supposed to expect nothing in return. I spend most of my days just lying in wait, waiting for the next decision to be made about my life, and it’s killing me inside.”

Darren scowled down at me.

“You’re not consistent enough with your behavior to warrant more freedom, Jaden. One minute, you’re good, and the next, you’re either pouting or lashing out, and it will do you no favors.”

“I am a restless spirit, Darren. Captivity does not suit me,” I bit out.

“This attitude doesn’t suit you,” he growled. “And I am tired of the same argument. If you want to wallow in your own misery, that is your choice, but you will not subject me to it.”

Darren then got off me to his side of the bed, and I immediately rolled over away from him.

“No, maybe I’ll just drown you in it instead,” I mumbled under my breath.

He swatted my ass so hard my whole backside ached.

“Ah!” I shouted and curled into myself, pain now radiating around my ass.

“Not another word,” he threatened. “Now, go to sleep.”

And I tried; I tried so fucking hard to throw myself into the abyss, but sleep would not come to me for another three hours. I barely moved, focusing on keeping my breathing deep and slow as if I were asleep so that Darren would just leave me the fuck alone.

When I did wake up the next morning, it was because something was licking my face. I squinted my heavy eyelids open to see Camaro sitting on the bed, her little pink tongue hanging out of her mouth as she waited for me to wake.

“You’re not supposed to be on the bed,” I grumbled to her in my scratchy sleepy voice. Darren didn’t allow Camaro on any of the furniture, and she was even lucky he let her in his room. She was useless as a guard dog while still being a puppy, but he wanted her to get used to being everywhere I was. Camaro gave me her little puppy squeal and patted the bed with her little paws. “No. Go back to bed,” I told her and then rolled back over onto the other side of my pillow only for my face to meet a piece of paper.

I squinted again and snatched it out from under my cheek. Another note from Darren.

Paint me something nice today.

- Darren

“Maybe later,” I mumble and closed my eyes as I burrowed deeper into the pillow. But Camaro was persistent as she jumped and pawed at my back, and all I could do was groan. I looked over at the clock and realized it was 8:15 in the morning. I had to get up, but I had no desire to even move. Contemplating if it was worth the punishment of sleeping in, I decided against it and rolled out of bed to head to my room.

The second I left Darren’s room, Clive and Owen were already on my heels, waiting for me outside his bedroom door. I ignored them and headed straight to my bathroom to wake myself up while Camaro chewed on my bathroom floor mat. I showered and dressed and had breakfast alone downstairs. I boxed and trained for two hours undisturbed and worked with Camaro’s trainer for the following hour. She was getting better and better at following basic commands.

When she was full-grown, she would start her guard dog training, and I was honestly a little excited about that. Maybe I could get Camaro to instinctively rip out Darren’s throat, hoping that might absolve me of the blame for his death. But I doubted it.

After lunch, Clive and Owen not so subtly ushered me into my studio art room to paint as Darren had requested. But I had nothing “nice” to paint him, and I didn’t feel like getting my hands dirty for once. Instead, I just stared out the window for a long while, twirling the paintbrush between my fingers, watching the ocean and wishing it was warm enough to go swimming… or that I was allowed to at least be outside to hear it. And then I was suddenly struck with inspiration.

Dragging my easel and chair to the other side of the room, I faced the window and painted the beautiful scene in front of me. Mimicking the form of the waves and color of the water and sky, the picture became my mirror. And then I ruined it by painting long black jail bars over the entire canvas, sending a clear-cut message to Darren. I left it there to dry and returned to my room for a long and well-deserved nap before dinner.

But when I woke up a few hours later, I felt a presence hovering and immediately jolted in my bed. Darren was sitting on my bed watching me, a stoic expression on his face. I quickly glanced down at my watch to make sure I hadn’t overslept, but it was a half hour until dinner still. What was he doing here?

When he made no move to answer my internal question, I just glared at him and pulled the sheet up over my head to ignore him and go back to sleep, but he promptly ripped it away from me.

“Get your ass out of bed,” he ordered, clearly irritated. I groaned into my pillow.

“So I can do what instead?” I griped as I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

Darren’s hand shot out to grip my hair and yanked me forward.

“So you can stop pissing me off,” he growled.

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