Page 10 of Scarred in Silence (The Twisted Trilogy #2)

Astra

The water runs through my hair and down into a small drain in the concrete floor. The water will flow through the pipes and eventually find a new home. I will never get the opportunity.

Lucien burned the only hope I had right in front of me. Evelyn still cares. I thought everyone had given up on me. She didn’t. She’s a loyal friend.

I spent all night crying. I felt doomed.

The cold water has become the norm. There is never hot water here, which sucks, but I think this is better for my health anyway. Even though I don’t give a fuck about that.

If he let me go right now, I’d find more drugs. I’ve been in my head for days now, unable to think about anything other than my feelings. My feelings of shame, hopelessness, and sadness. I tried to sing a song, but I just felt psychotic.

I tried to sing “Imagine” by John Lennon. It has always been the one song that makes me feel like there is hope, but unfortunately, there is none. Not here, at least. I don’t even know w here here is.

I cut the water off and take in the scent of my honey-scented hair. The one fortunate thing I have down here.

My breakfast sits untouched in the room’s corner. To avoid temptation, I moved it. I’m hoping that if I refuse to eat, he will offer me something in exchange. Perhaps I can get moved to the upstairs, with a fucking window.

He didn’t even come down yesterday. All of my meals were dropped off while I was sleeping. I’m starting to think he is seeing someone else, and I am just the girl trapped in the basement for fun. I wonder if my dad has asked more about me.

I hop into the bed and close my eyes, hoping that I can successfully sleep my life away.

I count. 1…2…3…4…5…6…7…8…9…10…11…12…13…14…15…16…17…18…

A loud thud jolts me from my trance. Lucien. He pretty much threw the ladder down, which means he is in a pissy mood.

His heavy footsteps trail down the ladder as he invades my space.

“What do you want?” I ask in an annoyed voice.

“Aren’t you fucking pleasant, Mrs. Crowe?” He gives me a devilish grin.

The blood drains from my face, and waves of nausea swim to my core. I look at him, confused as fuck. Why is he trying to fuck with me all the time?

“Stop fucking with me. Can I just go back to sleep?”

“I’m not fucking with you.” His face is firm. His muscular build stands tall, threatening almost.

“W-what?” I choke out.

He smiles as he sits down at the foot of the bed.

“You, my little Siren, are now Mrs. Astra Crowe.”

A shiver crawls up my legs, onto my back, and pricks at my scalp.

“N-no…”

“Yes.” He grins.

He can’t be fucking serious.

“I would never marry you,” I snap as I hold in the tears that want to roll down my pathetic face.

“You already did. It’s done.”

He cups my chin, tilting it upward.

“One day, we will consummate our marriage.” He winks at me.

My core warms at his words. I shouldn’t feel like this towards him ever. Not after what he has done to me. He cheated on me. He didn’t even try to find me when I left. He has kept me confined in some fucking makeshift prison.

I ignore my body’s natural reactions.

“No.”

He knows my past. He is aware of my feelings about being manipulated. My tendency to go silent easily is known to him. I have to use my words. He will hear me.

“One day…” He trails his thumb over my cracked lips.

Goosebumps erupt on my skin, leaving my body buzzing with need. No.

He stands up and sets down a velvet box on the foot of the bed. A fucking ring. He has lost his fucking mind.

“When you’re ready, Mrs. Crowe.” He smirks as he climbs up the ladder.

“I want to talk to my father!” I shout.

He stops, midway, his jaw tensing.

“No.”

“Why? Because you know he would never let you do this?”

He jumps off the ladder and rushes me on the bed, pinning me in place.

The smell of honey and cigarettes fills the surrounding air.

“Your father doesn’t want you,” he spits out.

My face grows hot. My father has always wanted control over me. He would never give it away to someone else so easily.

“No. He cares about his image. He would never let you,” my voice comes out hushed.

“Oh, but he did. I am your power of attorney and your husband. Now it’s time you treat me like it.”

He leans down and sinks his teeth into my bottom lip. Pain explodes in my mouth, and I try to pull back, but I can’t. He holds me in place as he explores my mouth.

My body relaxes slightly at the familiar action and the familiar person. God, I have missed his touch. I moan softly as he puts his knee between my legs, applying pressure against my pussy.

He pulls back, and his eyes are dark. They aren’t the blue that they usually are. They are like the sea in the eye of a hurricane, dark and clouded.

“You will behave. Do you understand?” He asks in a low and disheveled voice.

I nod my head, not wanting to piss him off. I don’t want him to leave. I need his touch. I need him to erase everything. I want to start over.

Emotion builds in my throat as I try to relax.

He lets go of me and stands to exit up the ladder. My glassy eyes are heavy .

“I’ll drop off your lunch and dinner later. I have some work to do.”

With that, he closes the door, enveloping me in my thoughts that threaten to drive me mad.

* * *

The box is smooth and delicate. It feels like a promise, but I know better than that. It’s my sentence. He now owns me. Legally.

He didn’t show me papers or anything, so he could be bluffing. Considering he has literally cut me off from the entire world, more so than I had already done myself.

I open the velvet box, and my chest tightens when I see what’s inside.

It’s a silver bullet with the letter “L” engraved on the side. The tears I fought so hard to keep in finally escape me. I sob alone in the empty cell.

He will hold that over me for as long as I live. He will never let me forget…