Chapter Fourteen
A buzzing sound disturbs the stark silence, pulling me from unconsciousness, so quiet I think my imagination might be playing tricks on me. Forcing my eyes open, I blink rapidly as the faint noise registers with my ears. A soft glow cuts through the darkness right behind me, illuminating the space surrounding me, like I’m cast in a spotlight, but there’s not a stitch of warmth to it. I shiver.
Pushing off the hard ground, sitting up, I turn and see him. Kassian. Just a foot away, he sits in a rusted metal chair, so close he could’ve kicked me had he gotten the urge. My heart stalls a beat, alarmed by his proximity, as I shove away, the filthy concrete scraping against my bare legs.
I don’t get far. It only takes him a few seconds to react, his foot stomping on the chain, abruptly cutting off my slack. Gasping, I grab where it’s wrapped around my neck, my breathing strangled as I pull my knees up to protect myself, forced to stay there. He’s holding his phone, the buzz coming from it.
Somebody’s calling.
Kassian presses a single finger to his lips, warning me to be silent, before he answers it.
“How nice of you to call,” Kassian says, his voice so loud in the vacant basement that I wince. “What can I do for you, Mister Scar?”
Scar. I let out a shaky breath, my lips parting, words on the tip of my tongue, wanting to spring free, yearning to call out to him. Lorenzo. I force the urge down, though, swallowing back the words.
As much as I want to scream, as much as I want to lash out, I know it’s not going to help me right now.
Kassian listens in silence as Lorenzo talks, before a smile cracks his face and he lets out a laugh, the sound of it chilling. My hair stands on end, tears prickling my eyes. Laughter from Kassian isn’t a sign of happiness; it doesn’t signify peace or that everything is all right. Laughter from Kassian is sadistic, dominating, his sense of humor twisted. He laughs at others’ misery.
This time, I think, he’s laughing at mine.
“I look forward to it,” Kassian says, eyeing me, the smile lingering on his lips. “Until then...”
He pulls the phone away from his ear without finishing his thought, ending the call before pressing another button, the light disappearing, leaving us in total darkness. I blink, trying to adjust my eyes so I can make him out, but there’s no natural light down here in the basement.
“Come here,” Kassian says, his voice so quiet that it’s like the shadows are whispering, beckoning me closer.
I don’t move, though.
I want nothing that lives in these shadows.
Kassian gives it maybe ten seconds before the chain jingles. He grabs it, yanking on it like it’s a leash. I try to resist, losing my breath, digging my heels in, but he’s too damn strong. I cry out as I’m dragged along the floor, the concrete skinning my knees and the palms of my hands when I try to catch myself to keep from smacking into it.
As soon as I’m within reach, he grabs where it’s wrapped around my neck and pulls my face right up to his face. I can hardly make him out, even this close, but I can feel his warm breath against my skin.
“I said come here,” he says, his voice still quiet, a forced kind of calm. “Have you gone deaf? Do we need to clean out your ears?”
I don’t answer him.
He doesn’t care about my answer.
Closing my eyes, I hold my breath as he runs his nose along my jawline, the scruff on his face rubbing against my cheek. I’m trembling. I know he can feel it, and I try to stop, but his proximity makes it hard for me to get a grip.
He makes me feel like that teenager again.
“You are still beautiful when you sleep, suka,” he says. “I could not bring myself to wake you. You looked so at peace. You do not look that way when your eyes are open. Why is that?”
“You know why,” I whisper.
He pulls back some, looking me in the eyes, the tip of his nose brushing against the tip of mine. He tilts his head ever-so-slightly, and I let out a shaky breath, knowing he’s thinking about kissing me.
The thought makes me grimace.
“I came down here so we could catch up on your lessons, pretty girl,” he says, just a whisper away from my mouth, “but it seems as if we will have to put that on hold for now.”
He lets go of the chain, and I immediately move away, scrambling to put a bit of space between us. Just a foot or two, just enough so I can’t smell his cologne, so his cruel warmth can’t swaddle me in the cold, damp room.
Standing up, he starts walking away, like he’s just going to leave, like he’s going to go without torturing me for the moment. My stomach twists in knots, heavier than the thick metal constricting my throat. Here I am, after fighting so hard for so long, once more at the mercy of a man who isn’t particularly merciful.
I don’t trust his passive demeanor.
He’s up to something. I know it.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” he says, stalling. “I have something for you.”
Of course.
Closing my eyes, I sigh, hearing his steady footsteps as he approaches again. Whatever he’s got, I don’t want it. He can keep it. He can shove it up his ass, for all I care. The only thing I want is to see my daughter, so unless he’s giving me that...
Be gone.
Kassian stalls in front of me, and I peek through the darkness as he reaches into the front pocket of his black slacks, pulling something out. A piece of paper, it looks like, crumbled and folded again and again, into a little square.
“I have been carrying this around for some time,” he says, unfolding it. “I told my kitten that I would give this to you, a gift from her, whenever I saw you again.”
He drops the paper, and it floats to the concrete in front of me. I don’t reach for it right away, just staring at where the paper lands, unable to make out any of it in the darkness. My heart races, like the paper is a ticking time bomb, like it has the power to detonate everything inside of me that I’ve somehow kept together even after Kassian tried to break me apart.
“It will not bite,” he says, his hand on my head, petting my hair before I even realize he’s reaching for me. I instinctively recoil, expecting punishment for the snub—a blow to the face, a thump to the cheek, maybe a hand fisting my hair—but he merely pulls away, turning to leave. “I will let that go this time. Be a good girl this afternoon, and I will have a mattress brought down.”
I shake my head, although I know he can’t see it, whispering, “I don’t want it.”
There used to be a bed down here. There used to be a lot. The first time I found myself locked in here, all those years ago, it looked like a shabby studio apartment, dirty and dark, but yet, it had been livable. You see, since Kassian spent so much time down here, he wanted to be comfortable, but I changed that, because the only thing he cherished more than his own comfort was my suffering. He’d gladly do without if it meant I had nothing.
It went from a regular little jail cell to solitary confinement.
Slowly, piece-by-piece, it all went away. The blankets, the extra clothes, the towels, the sheets. He ripped out the plumbing after I flooded his basement, leaving just a toilet that only flushes when water is poured into it. The bath was removed after I threatened to drown myself, replaced with a hose that is now kept under lock-and-key after I blasted him with cold water when he tried to come near me.
The bed, though, was last to go. He clung to that convenience like a dying man to his last breath, but after I stabbed him with a rusty piece of metal I tore from the box-spring, he finally got rid of it.
That’s when the chains appeared.
Act like an animal and I will treat you like one.
I guess getting that tetanus shot was Kassian’s final straw, because after that, it wasn’t a simple game of willpower anymore.
After that, he became cruel.
Not like locking girls in basements was nice in the first place, but a line was drawn that day. I drew blood. He decided it was time he did the same.
Before then, it was mostly mental. He didn’t want to ruin the goods, so he left no permanent traces of himself. That changed with me, though, and sometimes I wonder if I brought that on myself. Would it have been easier to escape him had I not fought so hard?
“You will change your mind,” he says. “The first time I slam your face into the floor, you will be begging me for that mattress, because it will muffle your cries a lot better than the concrete.”
I bite my lip to keep from reacting to that.
As he starts up the stairs to leave, I reach over, carefully running my fingertips along the paper, feeling the waxy substance coating it. Crayon. She drew me a picture. I smile to myself at that thought, but it quickly fades, worried about what she might’ve drawn, if maybe it was monsters.
“I will turn on a light,” Kassian calls back to me, “so you may see your present.”
A bright light flicks on, harsh and blinding, hurting my eyes. I squint, trying to ward it off, and look at the paper as I pick it up.
My stomach clenches, bile burning my throat.
I hear the door open and close, locks clicking into place as he walks out, leaving me simmering under the harsh lights with tears burning my eyes. I try to exhale, but the air is trapped in my chest, pressure building until I feel like I’m going to burst. I can’t seem to take a breath.
It’s a picture she drew of me.
I cover my mouth with my hand, stifling a sob, my other hand shaking the paper as I grip it tightly. After a moment, I clutch it to my chest, hugging it as I pull my legs up. Tears stream down my cheeks, streaking my dirty bare legs as I rest my head on my knees and cry.
And cry.
And cry.
Please let her be okay.
* * *
I give myself twenty minutes.
Or well, at least I think I do.
I don’t exactly have a watch here.
It’s hard to judge time in a void, and it’s not as if counting the seconds would make much of a difference, since I’d eventually waver and have to start over.
But it feels like twenty minutes before I swallow back my fears, wiping away my tears as I pull myself together, taking it one shaky breath at a time. Getting to my feet, I pace around, moving as far as the chain will let me go, stretching, trying to keep my strength up despite my soreness... despite my exhaustion... despite my thirst, my hunger, my fear...
You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.
I need a way out. I don’t yet know what that way is, but I’m imagining it’s not going to be easy, because getting out entails somehow getting past Kassian.
He said I wasn’t leaving this basement until I loved him. I made him believe I loved him once. Hell, maybe I actually did. I remember a time when I looked at Kassian like the universe existed beneath his skin, stars twinkling in his eyes, constellations in his soul, air and atmosphere and water forming his strong, masculine body, like without the breath from his lungs, breathing life into us all, the sun would no longer burn. I thought he was the Heavens and the Earth, I thought he was my savior, but he was really just Hell in disguise. They always did say the devil was beautiful.
I know too much now, though, and so does he.
I’m not sure I could ever trick him into believing I still love him, but unless you have a better idea... no? Didn’t think so.
Yeah, I’m totally screwed…
The basement door opens as I continue to pace, not a stitch of slack left in the chain as I move away from it as far as I can, turning to face the wall, needing a moment to dry my lingering tears before I can bring myself to look at him. There are footsteps on the stairs, too restrained to be Kassian’s, my head dizzy as a soft voice rings out. “Morgan?”
Slowly, I turn.
Alexis.
I saw her just days ago, standing in Lorenzo’s house. She’d been nervous then, but she seems to be even more nervous now. I’d already been deeply entrenched in life here when Kassian found her, another sweet little runaway girl in the city, one of the invisible, the forgotten. If you’re all alone, on your own, it means there’s nobody coming to save you, nobody to even miss you when you disappear. He exploits that, making you believe that without him, you’re nothing.
You have nothing; you mean nothing.
But he made a grave mistake with me.
You see, he gave me something. He gave me someone. I’ll never again be nothing, not as long as Sasha’s out there somewhere. He thought that he was further tethering me to him, but in reality, he gave me the motivation I needed to break those chains.
“I, uh... I brought you something to eat,” Alexis says quietly, offering me a small smile along with a brown paper bag. “You must be hungry.”
I stare at her for a minute before my eyes flicker past her. The basement door stands wide open at the top of the stairs. I can hear voices, thick Russian accents spewing foreign words up in the office of Limerence. For a fleeting moment, I imagine making a break for it, wondering how many people I’d need to overpower, but as soon as I take a step, the chain jingles, grounding me back in reality.
Right. Kassian has the key to the lock hanging around my neck.
“Does he know you’re feeding me?” I ask—a stupid question, frankly, because she wouldn’t be down here without his permission.
“He wants you to keep your strength up,” she says.
“Of course he does,” I mutter, taking the bag from her before plopping down in the metal chair, surprised he left it in here where I could sit on it... or smack him over the head with it. “Doesn’t want to fuck a corpse, right?”
“Right,” she whispers, her smile falling as she glances up the stairs before turning back to me. “It wasn’t me, Morgan. I swear. I would’ve never told—”
“I know,” I say, dropping the bagged lunch on the floor, discarding it by the leg of the chair. “Kassian said it was Lorenzo.”
She blanches. “What?”
“He said Lorenzo sent him his address.”
“But why would—?”
Before she can finish, heavy footsteps come down the stairs. I look that way when Kassian appears.
“Stupid girl,” he says, grabbing ahold of Alexis and pointing her toward the stairs. “Which part of ‘give her food’ did you think meant gossip?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Aristov,” Alexis whispers, rushing out of the basement.
He shakes his head, shouting, “Shut the door behind you!”
Alexis listens, the door closing, muffling the voices upstairs. Kassian turns to me once we’re alone, curving an eyebrow as he strolls closer to where I’m sitting. He watches me carefully, eyes scanning my face. I don’t move, don’t speak, forcing myself to not react to his presence, as hard as that is. I try to look unruffled, as calm and collect as he seems to be, but my hands are sweaty and my heart is racing so hard I’d be surprised if he couldn’t hear it.
As soon as he’s within reach, he grabs the chain, no hesitation as he yanks on it hard, wrenching me right out of the chair. I stumble, tripping, trying to catch myself, to soften the blow, but I hit the concrete on my hands and knees, stinging tearing through my already scuffed palms, my kneecaps painfully screaming.
Wincing, I squeeze my eyes shut, taking a few deep breaths as I roll over, plopping down on my ass. A trickle of blood runs down my right shin, the skin around the knee sliced open.
The metal shifts as Kassian drops down into the chair, his voice firm as he says, “This is my seat. I did not tell you to help yourself to it.”
“You didn’t—” I cut off abruptly when he raises his eyebrows, like he can’t believe I have the nerve to talk. You didn’t tell me not to, either. Those words were about to come out, but I know if I don’t watch my mouth, he might rip out my tongue, so I just leave it at that. “You didn’t.”
Reaching down, he picks up the brown bag lunch. “You are not eating, suka.”
“I’m not hungry,” I lie.
He sighs dramatically as he opens the bag and pulls out a sandwich covered in plastic. He unwraps it, tearing it sloppily down the middle, holding half out to me. Peanut butter and grape jelly. I stare at it with surprise, not moving, until he says, “Take it.”
I take it, eyeing it warily. My stomach is churning, a battle brewing between my hunger and my anger, torn between eating it and wanting to shove it back in his fucking face.
“Not what you expected?” he asks, taking a bite of the other half of the sandwich, making a face as he chews. He has probably never had PB&J before, but he’s trying to prove to me that it’s safe to eat.
“No,” I admit. “Expected some Doktorskaya bologna or smoked mackerel.”
He grimaces, swallowing. “Either of those would be a much better choice, but kitten, she does not like my food, so sometimes, there is peanut butter to make her happy.”
I stare at him after he says that.
“What is that look for?” he asks, tossing his half of the sandwich back in the bag, his point made. He’s not trying to poison me. At least, not right now.
I take a small bite before mumbling, “I’m just wondering when you ever cared about somebody else’s happiness.”
I probably shouldn’t have said that out loud.
I can see the amusement draining from his eyes.
He says nothing in response, though, watching me as I eat the half of the sandwich he offered, waiting until it’s all gone before he says, “Come here.”
I’m only like a foot away from him.
How much closer does he need me?
Swallowing thickly, I scoot closer, and closer, and closer, as Kassian leans down in the chair, closing the rest of the distance between us. Reaching into the neckline of his shirt, he pulls out the long silver chain he always wears, a set of small keys dangling from it.
My heart races, breath hitching.
His face is right up against mine, holding my gaze, as he grasps the heavy lock.
“Are you going to be a good girl?” he asks.
Carefully, I nod.
Not a chance in hell.
He sticks the key in, unlocking it, pulling the padlock off before unwinding the thick chain from around my neck. I take a deep breath, relieved at being free—at least temporarily.
The chain clatters when he drops it to the concrete beside me. Standing up, he slips the padlock into his pocket before grabbing my arm, yanking me to my feet.
The second he loosens his hold, letting go, instinct kicks in. There’s nothing tethering me here.
Fuck this.
I run.
I dart for the exit, reaching the stairs in seconds, running up them as fast as my legs will carry me. As I near the door, my head grows fuzzy, the voices on the other side of it loud. Shit. Shit. Shit.
Grabbing the knob, I start to turn it when I’m ripped away, arms winding around me.
“No... no... no... no... no!”
Kassian’ voice is laced with anger, a venomous growl right in my ear. He drags me back down into the basement, not wavering at all, even as I struggle. My breaths are sharp and quick, panic assaulting me. I lash out, trying to hit him, jabbing elbows into his chest, thrusting my feet back, kicking his legs, but his grip only grows tighter.
He pulls me across the room, to the area that used to be a bathroom, shoving me hard onto the drainage grate on the floor. I grimace, catching myself with my hands again, the metal clanging.
“Stay!” he yells.
Kassian uses another set of keys to unlock a nearby cabinet. I peek past him, inside of it, my heart hammering hard, watching as he shifts through supplies... none of which I could do any serious damage with if I stole it.
He pulls out a small hose, a bar of soap, and a threadbare towel.
“If you are looking for weapons, you should know better,” he says, locking the cabinet before turning back to me. “Taking me out will never be that easy.”
He hooks up the hose to the faucet on the wall before draping the towel over the back of his chair.
“Stand up,” he says.
I don’t stand up.
He grabs my arm again, yanking me to my feet as he yells right in my face, “I said stand up!”
I glare at him, staring into his stormy gray eyes. Rage simmers just below the surface, hints of it seeping out, buzzing like electricity between us. It’s like a shock of static. My hair stands on end, the sensation crawling across my skin.
“Hands up,” he orders, his voice low, firm.
I’d rather do anything but give in to his demands, but I think if I push him anymore right now, he might kill me.
For real this time.
I raise my arms as he grabs the bottom of my filthy white shirt, slowly pulling it up over my head before tossing it aside on the concrete.
“Do not move,” he warns, “I mean it.”
I drape my forearms on top of my head, tilting my head up, eyes moving to the ceiling right above me, fixed there as he kneels in front of me. I shudder, feeling his calloused fingers grazing against my skin. He runs his hands gently up my thighs before tugging on my underwear. I wait until he reaches my ankles before ever-so-slightly raising my feet, letting him take them off.
He tosses them aside with my shirt.
His hands settle on my hips as he pulls himself back up, standing, his clothed body flush against mine. He brings his mouth to my ear, my breath hitching as he whispers, “I can smell him on you.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, still not moving, as Kassian turns on the hose. A cry escapes me the second the water pelts my chest, so icy cold that it stings, like needles piercing my skin. I breathe deeply, chanting silently to myself, trying to block it all out, trying to numb myself to it.
You can do this.
It’ll be over before you know it.
Go to your happy place.
My happy place, in the little white house with the bright red door, blasting cheesy pop music and dancing around the kitchen with my little girl. Singing along at the top of our lungs, only knowing half the words, but it didn’t matter how terrible we sounded because we had fun. Laughing until we cried, watching cartoons and baking cookies, as Buster stood guard, protecting us from monsters. My happy place, full of love... so much love. I’d do anything to have it back.
Anything to see her smile.
Anything to hear her sweet laughter.
Kassian’s hands are as brutal as the frigid water, scrubbing me raw from head-to-toe, using the entire bar of soap.
“Did you let him come in you, suka?” he asks, his voice low, hands places his hands don’t deserve to go. “Did you let him fuck you like only I am allowed? Do I need to rip out more of your insides to get rid of every trace of him?”
I don’t answer.
Whatever I say won’t make a difference.
My teeth viciously chatter to the point that my jaw hurts, my body shaking, shivering, parts of me going numb. I know I’m crying, but he can’t see my tears, the water running down my face wiping away any evidence that he’s getting through my defenses.
He drops the hose once he’s satisfied and turns the water off. The floor beneath my feet is completely soaked, slow to drain. I lower my head, my eyes meeting Kassian’s as he picks up the towel. He steps right up to me, so close we touch, not seeming to care that his suit gets wet.
In fact, looking at him, I can tell every ounce of care he might’ve had about anything is no longer there.
I might be freezing, but this man is ice cold.
“I can tell,” he says.
I don’t want to say anything. I want to stay silent.
My words won’t change anything and he doesn’t deserve to hear them.
But almost by instinct, my voice quietly responds, “You can tell what, Kassian?”
“That you have forgotten everything.”
He’s trying to goad me, to get a reaction, but I’m not going to give him the satisfaction. I know where this is leading. No matter how I respond, he’s going to do what he wants.
“Beg me,” he says, grasping my chin as I continue to shake, completely drenched. He’s holding the towel hostage, refusing to wrap it around me. “Beg me to bring you that mattress and I will, pretty girl.”
I continue to stare at him, his grip tight as he holds my face, waiting for those magic words.
He’s not getting them.
I begged him that night. The night he broke into my house. The night he stole my life. I begged him not to do it, to leave us in peace, but none of it mattered, so it’ll take one hell of a miracle to get me to ever beg him again.
The smirk that touches the corners of Kassian’s mouth tells me that’s exactly what he was expecting... exactly what he wanted. He drags my face closer to his, fingers digging into my skin, squeezing my cheeks, his lips just a breath from my own as he says, “Concrete it is...”