He’s the only person I’ve got.
He’s the only one who has looked after me since I was twelve. He’s the only person who’s made sure I’ve been looked after. He’s the only person—up until this point—who has kept me safe.
I have to laugh when I think on this because he may have kept me safe, but not from the monster who lives inside of him.
“Do you know what happens when you rattle an animal’s cage for years and then suddenly let him out?”
Those are the words that ring around in my head. At times, I hate him with a vengeance, but then I think of all the times in the past when he warned that I would make him go over the edge if I pushed.
And boy did I push. I pushed and pushed so much that the rattling cage rattled so much that the lock forced itself open with a violent break.
With a shake of my head and a sigh, I walk into my bathroom and take a contraceptive pill. I did at least prepare for Drake. I want to escape, but I have to cover all my bases just in case. After that incident in the car a few weeks ago after I ran away to that bar and got caught by Drake being chatted up by that guy, Chris, I booked an appointment with my doctor. This is my second course of pills, and I will be finishing them soon. Luckily, I still have another four months left before needing more. Hopefully, by then, I’ll be let out of my cage.
Laughing at the irony, I head back to my bedroom and decide to watch some TV. I don’t have much else to do since he has me locked in here. Luckily, I do have the TV, radio, and some books. Otherwise, I’d go crazy.
The only other thing I do is sleep. I sleep because I’m bored. I’m not used to being holed up like this with not a chance to at least walk around the house. Sure, I’ve been grounded before, but never like this. Never held prisoner against my will. At times, I think Drake bought me to help escape my parents, but now it seems he is worse than they are. Yes, they were cruel, and it’s true that they didn’t give two shits about me, but at least I had the freedom to walk around my own house.
As the hours progress, so does my frustration. Bit by bit, I watch the sun go down until it finally disappears over the horizon. Night is coming, and it looks as though I will be all on my own again.
Then, I suddenly hear a noise at my door, and it makes me jump. For a moment, I think it’s the maid coming to bring me food, but when the door opens instead of the courtesy knock I always get, I know otherwise.
Drake enters, and following him are two guys with two plates of food, some champagne, and two glasses. Without a word, they place everything on the table in front of my bed and pour the wine once done.
“That’ll be all,” Drake says, dismissing them.
Soon, they are all gone and silence fills the room. He has his back to me at first and hasn’t looked at me once. I can tell he’s still angry. I can tell he’s still reeling. But it’s a good sign that he’s here, bringing food and wine. He obviously wants to eat with me at least.
“You must be hungry. Come and sit, so we can properly celebrate your birthday together.” He says it with an edge to his voice. He still hasn’t turned.
With a trembling of my hands, I rise from the bed and watch him as I make my way to the table. He still hasn’t looked at me, but I’m certainly looking at him. He’s casual today in my favourite jeans. I’m not sure if he’s wearing them for me on purpose, but I can hazard a guess that he is. As if that isn’t bad enough, he’s also got a nice, tight white t-shirt on which accentuates his toned physique.
As I walk, I wait for the feeling of nausea to come from the thoughts of all that this man has put me through—embarrassment, pain, and even trauma. I experienced all of that and more at the hands of this man. But the nausea doesn’t come. Instead, all I feel is heat … longing … desire. Disappointment fills me when he still can’t seem to look at me. When I finally approach the table, however, he has no choice but to turn his head. The reaction it elicits has my heart thundering and makes my knees weak.
He hitches in a breath as he takes in my short, summery, strappy peach dress. It curves to my body perfectly and accentuates my long legs. Despite the fact that we’ve already had sex twice, we still haven’t seen each other completely naked. For some reason, I want to. For some strange, unfathomable reason, I yearn for it.
“Have you been sleeping well?”
And just like that, I remember all too well why I’m here … being held prisoner. And the anger comes just as quickly. “Considering I haven’t had a chance to do anything but, then yes.”
I see when Drake’s jaw ticks and wonder if I’ve gone too far. I’m rattling that cage again. I just can’t help the injustice of it all. Is it too much to ask not to be owned by someone?