Page 21 of Kept

Ethan spins on his heel, moving towards the storage cupboard he keeps locked up next to my bedroom door. Staying where I am, I watch him warily. His back is to me as he rummages around. The silence is deafening, the rift between us widening with every moment.

A weird clinking noise rings out as he kneels, the metallic chime making me take a step back. “Ethan,” I whisper through suddenly dry lips. “What are you doing?”

He shakes his head as he stands up and turns to face me. The bottom drops out of my stomach as I take in what he’s holding in his hands.

“I didn’t want to do this, Zella,” he says in a low voice. He takes a step, and I back away. There’s pity in his face, real, genuine pity.

Even as he advances on me with a chain in his hands.

I stumble back, horror clawing up my spine as he moves towards me.

“Come, now,” he urges. “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be, sweetheart.”

“You can’t chain me,” I breathe in horror. “I’m not an animal, Ethan.”

My back hits the far wall, next to my little reading nook, and I dart around the chair, trying to put space between us. He actually smiles at me as he reaches down, and I stare at what he’s holding in his hands.

My hair.

Slowly, he starts to wind it around his arm, and my hair begins to tug at my scalp, into pain that sends tears into my ears as he begins to drag me closer.

“Stop,” I beg him. Tears start to spill out, soaking my face as I grab my hair and try to pull it away from him, but his grip is too tight. He drags me in, his fist firm and wrapped in my hair as he tows me across the open space, closer to the steel pipework decorating the wall.

My hands try to push him away, and for once he doesn’t seem to care that I’m touching him, shoving and scratching as he forces me down. I barely recognise my own voice as it rises.

“Get it off me,” I cry, as his gloved fingers brush my skin. “Ethan! I’m sorry!”

I’m sobbing brokenly as the shackle clicks into place, a heavy grip around my ankle. Ethan pauses, his face close to mine and yet so unfamiliar. This Ethan… I don’t know him.

Flinching, I push back against the wall as he strokes my hair back, my scalp burning from the bruising force of his grip.

“There, now,” he murmurs, his voice low. “I know it all seems strange now, Zella. But you’ll get used to it, in time. And you can still reach everything you need to, I made sure of that. This is for your protection, sweetheart.”

“Don’t touch me,” I force out. Something I’ve always wished for now feels like a violation. My voice shakes so badly I’m not sure he even hears the words, but he drops his hand with a frustrated tut.

“You’ll see, soon. This is for your own good.”

I can’t stop staring at the iron shackle. Ethan’s footsteps sound through the apartment, and I jerk my head up to see him moving towards the elevator.

“I’ll be back soon,” he calls over his shoulder. “A few days for you to think this through, and you’ll see that I’m right, Zella.”

Desperately, I claw myself upright, using the pipe for balance before I follow him. My balance is off, and I stagger across the white marble, trying to get to the doors, to where Ethan is typing in the security code.

But the chain at my ankles pulls taut before I reach him, and I land heavily on my knees with a cry of pain. “Wait. Don’t do this. Ethan—,”

But the doors are sliding closed without another word.

10 – Enzo

“Why am I here?” I mutter irritably.

Ryder elbows me. “Because this place gives me the willies, and I want to go in.”

I purse my lips, taking in the dilapidated warehouse. It looks abandoned. “Why?”

Ryder checks his phone. “Because Moore spends a fuck load of time here, and I want to see what he’s up to.”

“Storage,” I suggest. Breaking away from the wall, we make our way to the entrance we saw Moore slinking out of a few minutes ago, his eyes shifting around him before he slid into his car and pulled off. “He’s an art collector.”

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