Page 38 of Scarred in Silence

He stands and takes out a key, kneeling in front of me on the ground. He releases the cuffs at my ankles, followed by the ones behind my back. He stands over me, intimidating me with his nearness.

“I’ll be back Saturday. Don’t fucking run. Okay?”

I swallow the lump in my throat.

“Okay…”

He leans down, placing a soft kiss on my lips. It tastes sweet, but it’s laced with something darker. A threat.

“Stay here. He will bring you lunch.”

With that, he exits the room, enveloping me in silence. I stare at the door he left from, and I notice there is no door handle on the inside.

I’m trapped. Once again.

* * *

The silence of the house is eerie. Varek seemed nice, but not welcoming. He gave me my lunch on a tray, and then immediately left. He didn’t stay to chat.

I wonder if Lucien put him up to that. Probably.

The floor is tiled, matching the rest of the house. The bedroom is also decorated with beige colors. The black ceiling fan has been the only contrast that I have seen thus far. I stare into the sharp blades, mesmerized by the steady motion.

The fan moves as my thoughts race. I still do not know why he brought me here. I figured his jail cell was more than enough.

Apparently, he wants me to try to escape. A part of me wants to test the theory. After all… He always loves it when I put up a fight. I already checked the window. It’s bolted shut, and the glass is probably shatterproof.

I stand up, moving myself to sit at the vanity. I haven’t seen my reflection much over the last week or so. I saw it for the first time today. I look better.

My eyes aren’t as bright as they used to be. The blue looks muted, in my opinion. My blonde hair is smooth and healthy, but my face is still thin.

To be honest, I still miss the drugs. They helped me on my darkest days, when no one else would.

A loud knock on the solid wooden slab startles me. I break my eyes from my reflection and I turn to see Varek standing in the door frame. He wears his black suit, and his face is freshly shaven.

“What do you want for dinner?” He states dryly.

My brows pinch together. Lucien has just been giving me whatever he feels like. I didn’t know I’d get a choice. Or maybe this is another test. I shrug my shoulders.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m not picky.”

A smirk paints itself onto his face. His deep brown eyes bore holes into my body.

“So you don’t say,” he teases as he pushes himself off the door frame, entering further into the room.

Alarms blare in my mind, warning me to run. I can’t run. Where would I even go?

He sits on the bed, next to the vanity, as he evaluates my body.

“You’re too fucking beautiful for my cousin,” he says in a low tone.

Goosebumps erupt on my skin. My chest tightens.

“No. I’m not,” I announce. I can’t be silent here. If I am, bad things could happen. Things that Lucien would never forgive.

“But you are.”

He stands, tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear. I flinch at the touch. It’s not the same. When I am sober, the only touch I want is Lucien’s.