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CHAPTER ONE

The ropes around my ankles tighten as the chirping grows louder. Sweat beads drop down my temple and I’m terrified. I’m frozen in place, wishing I could run. The window is open, and the salty ocean air is swirling around me, yet I can’t breathe.

“Hello, my precious little bird…” he rasped into my ear as my heart pounded so hard I was convinced my chest cavity would crack. His hand trailed up my leg as I remained paralyzed in fear. His fingertips padded against my inner thigh just before he brushed them under my panties and pushed them inside me.

Jolting upward, I screamed and dared to open my eyes.

“Shh…Demi, it’s just a dream. You’ve got to stay quiet.” Marcie, my roommate, rushed over to me.

Blinking into the darkness, I reached down to my ankles, checking for the rope I so vividly felt.

“Demi, you’re a sweaty mess,” Marcie whispered as she pressed a cool washcloth against my head. Her long, bleach-blond hair was tousled over her shoulders, gently brushing against me.

She had a small, battery-operated desk lamp turned on, which I knew was a risk of its own. Alister loved darkness, and La Gabbia, the luxurious wellness resort, had strict hours where the lights at the entire resort were powered off, even though we were ‘doves’ and on the light floor.

I looked around our room. Everything was still white, including the brick walls surrounding us, but I could tell his preference was black. The way he only dressed in all black, the way he hated the light, and had white and black tiling scattered like a chessboard. Alister was Ian Ivory’s younger brother, and something told me he was trying to be a shadow of him, but at the same time, had his own unique sickness that just begged to come out.

“Marcie,” I started, but quickly pause, not knowing how to formulate the many things I’ve been dying to tell her. She seemed trustworthy —seemed being the key word.

She looked at me with her head tilted and a tiny, sleepy grin grew on her face.

“Yes, Demi?”

“How long have you worked here?” I asked instead of the original question.

“Hm…it’s been five years.” She shrugged and tiptoed over to the little basin in our room and hung the washcloth above it.

When I first moved into the room with Marcie, she hardly spoke to me. Then, when she finally decided to acknowledge me, the only thing we talked about was work. She’d always been extra kind to me when the night terrors happened, though.

“Why did you choose to work for La Gabbia?” I hoped she was in a chatting mood.

She smiled at me. “The same reason you did, silly.”

I shook my head. “I never gave you a reason why I was working here…”

She flashed her pearly white teeth at me. “Money. A home. A life of luxury?” She stretched her hands over her head and laid back down in her bed.

“You call this a life of luxury?”

“Yes, Demi. I call this a life of luxury compared to the…”

My heart raced as she stared at me for a moment and the smile across her lips was washed away.

“Compared to the what?” I choke out.

Marcie reached for the string hanging from the lamp and let out a long sigh. “Let’s hope you never find out.” The light went out, and we were plunged back into complete darkness.

I laid down with my eyes opened. Marcie didn’t know this, but I had to find out. That’s why I was here.

I had to end it all.