Page 15
Chapter Fifteen
Elodie
THREE WEEKS LATER
A chime of a bell echoes through my room. Silent tears roll down my cheeks as I trudge my way through the house. My entire body screams and threatens to pass out with each step down the hall, but I refuse to let him see me fall. Right now, I don’t know if my legs are going to give me any other choice.
Looking at the stairs, they are long and seem to run on forever as I take each step slowly. I simply look like I did a long run at the track or worked too hard on leg day. Only Elton knows the real reason for my pain but even he can’t do anything about it. I hear the chime again from the bottom of the stairs, the incessant ringing driving my nerves closer to the edge. Chomping my molars, I do my best to walk through the biting pain throughout my body.
Once I make it to the kitchen, Elton is standing there with a sad look on his face. “I wrote to Wini, but I haven’t gotten anything back,” he mutters softly. A soft smile graces my lips at the solidarity that he has shown me. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep him around. He hands me the tray with several glasses and a decanter filled with amber liquid, probably my father’s whiskey. Inhaling deeply, I limp back toward the stairs. Elton tried to help me carry everything up the stairs once, and one of Father’s henchmen caught him. Thankfully, Elton didn’t get hurt, but he was scolded enough with a threat he refuses to disclose. That’s enough for me. Father also found out about the tunnel and had his men close off the entry points.
Pain blazes through my body with each step and when I finally reach the top, I swear I’m going to pass out. White dots sparkle my vision as I continue to move. I can’t tell if the ringing in my ears is from my brain telling me to slow down or Father chiming it again. Either way, I hustle through the pain to get this to him. Knocking on the door, I don’t have time to take a step back before it opens. Father wanted the door to open outward because it made more space in his office, and right now, I regret ever telling him that was a good idea.
The tray of glasses and whiskey slam into me, the sore muscles of my body not strong enough to keep me standing. Cheap glass smashes onto the ground before I do. Landing on top of the glass pieces, I feel every small shard slice through my skin. The white spots in my vision come back with vengeance, splattering around as I scramble to get back up. It doesn’t work, as I end up sliding through the glass. I can hear Father yelling at me, but the blood rushing through my head is enough to block him out. When I finally manage to get onto my feet and turn, Father is waiting with the back of his hand. It connects with my cheek harshly, my neck cracking as it’s snapped to the side, and I drop.
“Father, catch me!” His smile is huge as he runs at me, and his fingers wiggle as I run. My tummy is grabbed and I’m lifted into the air. Tickles scratch my belly as Father tickles me. I try to wriggle free from his hold on me but can’t, he tosses me so high into the air, and I feel like I’m flying before he catches me gently.
“Got you,” he laughs, his hand tickling my tummy as I laugh. “Go play, baby girl. I have some work to do.”
“Love you!” I call out, watching him walk away from me with a big smile on my face. He looks over his shoulder, a smile matching mine as he calls back, “I love you more.”
Blinking, I barely register Father’s foot colliding into my stomach. Vomit rises in my throat, and I’m not able to stop it before it sputters out of my mouth. It’s acidic, burning as it comes. His shiny black shoe comes for another kick, and I roll. Begging him to stop only makes it worse, so I bite my tongue and keep as much noise as I can locked internally. I attempt to incline my upper body, but my arms give out causing me to land face-first into a sliver of glass.
“That’s what dirty whores deserve,” he snaps, spitting on my dress as he walks away. His fancy leather shoes clack as he walks, and I withhold my will to grab his ankle. Tripping him would be nice for a solid second but the wrath would not be worth it.
No one comes to pick me up, no one is allowed to help. Elton watches on from his spot in the hallway, his sad eyes breaking another shallow piece of me. Gritting my teeth again, I force myself to stand up. My legs wobble, my body burns and my head feels feather-light, seconds away from passing out.
Leaning heavily against the wall, someone shoo’s everyone back to their tasks before leaving me alone in the hallway. An emptiness buries itself deep in my chest as my stomach threatens to continue spewing whatever acid is left inside of it. My main support is on the wall as I force one foot in front of the other, step by step I vow that once I get out of this, there will be hell to pay.
“Elodie!” His booming voice echoes down the hall, his steps coming fast as he approaches his office again. “Bring me whiskey that isn’t soaked in the carpet.” He slams the door to his office again after entering, and I point a finger gun at him while pretending to shoot.
“I will show you something in the carpet,” I mutter to myself as I shove away from the wall and continue away.