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Isiah took a couple of steps back, and I took notice of the rest of the room. It was like some kind of library. Bookshelves lined the room instead of walls, bursting at the seams with books. Different colors, sizes, and textures. Some looking like they were hundreds of years old, while others had glossy covers that sparkled in the light of the room.
A couple of guards stood in the doorway. While I could feel one more just behind me, the one who’d picked me up off the ground and dumped me here.
“You know, that’s not the best part of the story,” Isiah continued, his brows knitting together as he reached up to scratch his chin. “Hmmm… best part? Or maybe I should say, that’s not the worst part… it really depends on whose point of view you’re coming from.”
“You’re insane,” I rasped, followed by another deep and intense cough that felt like at anymore moment, I might hack up a lung, or by the pain coming from my torso maybe a broken rib.
He grinned maniacally as he took a seat across from me on another leather seat. “Just wait, I haven’t gone all cartoon villain yet. I still have plenty more to tell you. And I’m still perfecting my evil laugh, so feel free to offer your critique on that when I’m done.”
Holy shit. This guy was insane.
I needed to get the hell out of here and fast.
Where was Romeo? Or Ham?
Or better yet, where on earth was I?
And did anyone know where I was? Or even if I was missing?
Tears burned my eyes, but I refused to let Isiah know I might be scared. I wouldn’t go down without a fight, so if he was thinking he was going to break me…
“She came back when you were little, you know.”
I could feel my breathing beginning to lighten. Short, sharp breaths as opposed to the long deep ones I was using to try and keep the tears at bay.
You’re stronger than this Meyah. He’s trying to get inside your head. He’s trying to hurt you. Don’t let him.
“I don’t want to hear your stupid little story,” I argued, wiggling my body so I could sit up a little straighter, trying to prove I wasn’t weak like he thought. “Why don’t you write it on a little note, roll it up real nice and tight, then ram it all the way up your ass.”
His eyebrows went up, his eyes widening as he placed his hands on the arms of his chairs and pushed to his feet.
I pressed my lips together tightly and narrowed my eyes staring him down in defiance. At this stage, I didn’t care if he hit me, or hurt me, but what I didn’t want was to listen to what he had to say about my mom. That would break my heart. That would kill me more times over.
Unfortunately, I was pretty sure he knew that.
“You have a dirty fucking mouth, anyone ever tell you that,” he sneered, reaching out and grabbing hold of my jaw, his fingers digging into my face. The pain made my eyes water. “You’re gonna listen to mystupid little storybecause like every good tale, there’s a moral. One you could learn from, I don’t doubt.”
He released me, but before I could find any relief, his palm connected with my cheek, throwing my face to the left and sending a sharp sting across my skin. My brain struggled through the buzzing in my ear, and I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut tightly as I fought to make it go away.
“Now be a good little bitch and listen,” he snapped, once I’d finally managed to force my eyes open and to focus again. He tugged on his suit jacket, straightening the cuffs and lapels before patting and primping his hair.
It was as though I’d thrown him a little. This asshole who was used to stealing women, drugging them, selling them off. You’d think he would be accustom to dealing with this kind of thing. Unless… the girls never really fought back.
They probably begged. Pleaded. And I bet that got him hard. Having them want to do whatever the hell he desired in order for him to just let them go. They would almost agree to anything.
It was fucking sick.
A new guard stepped into the room, handing Isiah a short glass with amber liquid and a handful of ice cubes. He swirled it around, the cubes clinking against the outside before he took a small sip. He hummed in approval before setting the glass down on the small glass table just in front of me. “You were five when Carly came back to town.” A smile touched his lips. One I wanted to say was genuine, but I couldn’t imagine using that word with a man like Isiah. “She told me all about you. How you were so smart, so outgoing, and ready to take on the world.”
His words hit me like a blow to the face.
Outgoing?
Ready to take on the world?
Coming from the mother who kept me caged up and wouldn’t even let me stir a pot on the stove even when I was thirteen.
He had it wrong.
