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1
“Ugh!How can anyone actually wear these?”
Sarah allowed a glimmer of a smile to cross over her face as she looked at her daughter holding out a pair of men’s bikini briefs by its string. Ava may not know much of the outside world, but she was still just as much of a sixteen-year-old girl as she’d be in other circumstances. “I’ve yet to figure that out, honey, and frankly, I don’t want to. At least we have the luxury of a washing machine and dryer instead of doing it by hand like people had to back in the day.”
Ava glared over her head as someone stomped through the Greystone packhouse on the floor above them. “I don’t know. There might’ve been some benefits to that.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
Her daughter rolled her shoulder as she poured detergent into the washing machine, keeping her head back as she chucked the manties into the machine. “Well, maybe not if I had to wash a load ofthese, but I don’t know. Doing it outside, I guess?”
Sarah pulled the next shirt from the basket at her feet and laid it carefully over the ironing board. The dryer beeped, letting her know the towels were done. “Are you really going to tell me you’d rather touch all these dirty clothes with your hands while you scrubbed them in filthy water against a washboard?”
Moving aside the next load of dirty laundry, Ava gagged. “Never mind, you’re right. I just don’t see why the people in this packhouse can’t wash their own clothes.”
Sarah had no answer for that. Her mouth hardened into a grim line, knowing Ava wouldn’t have these kinds of responsibilities if it weren’t for her. Sure, she’d be expected to do chores. Sarah knew she’d never let any child of hers just run around with all the freedom in the world and no responsibility. Ava had the opposite, and there was nothing Sarah could do about it.
“Sarah!” The thundering footsteps overhead were now thundering down the basement steps, sending bits of dust shaking down from the old wooden boards and making the mason jars in the storage space rattle.
Her stomach tightened, and she felt her shoulders hunch up around her ears, but Sarah forced them back down again. She wouldn’t let Edward know what he made her feel whenever she saw or even heard him. He had enough power, and she wouldn’t give him a shred more of it. “Yes?” she asked, pointedly focusing on her ironing as she created a perfect crease down one sleeve.
“Where’s my blue shirt? The button-down one? You said you’d have it clean before tonight.” Coming around from the stairwell and into the laundry area of the basement, Edward Greystone glowered at his daughter as he put his fists on either side of the belly that lapped his belt.
“It’s right here, as promised.” Sarah set down the iron and lifted the blue shirt in question from the nearby rack. “I even got all those grease stains off the front. You should be more careful the next time you decide to gorge yourself on bratwurst.”
He snatched it from her grasp. “Don’t try to lecture me. You just turned forty. You ought to know your place in this pack by now.”
Giving him a mock smile and wide eyes, Sarah tented the fingers of one hand over her collarbone. “Oh, you remembered! I thought you’d forgotten today was my birthday. Is that why you wanted your best shirt? So we could all go out to dinner and celebrate? I’ll be sure to put on my best rags.”
His fist tightened around the shoulder of the shirt he held in his hand, pressing wrinkles into the freshly ironed fabric. “You’re lucky I even let you live after the disgrace you brought to this pack, Sarah.”
“I’m not sure I’d call this living,Dad.” Sarah flipped her hand around her to indicate the dusty basement, including the shabby bathroom with a leaky faucet and the makeshift bedroom she and Ava shared in the back corner.
“I am your Alpha!” Edward roared, taking a step forward. Spittle flew from his mouth and smacked onto the unfinished concrete floor. “You and your brat have been an embarrassment to this pack for years. Learn to obey me, or else.” He gritted his teeth, shaking one angry hand toward Ava.
Sarah’s heart clenched, but it was a different type of fear that shook her this time. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin as she stepped slightly to the side, putting herself between her father and daughter. There was little she could do if he decided to lose his temper, especially with this damn silver collar lying so heavily around her neck, but that wouldn’t stop her from trying. She’d already done wrong by Ava in so many ways, but she couldn’t let things go any further. “I’m sorry, Father.” Her eyes held his steadily.
“As you should be.” Still clutching his precious damn shirt, he turned and stormed back up the stairs. “Janice, where the hell is my cell phone? I can’t find it anywhere.”
When the door slammed behind him, a tiny giggle had Sarah turning toward her daughter in shock. “What’s so funny?”
Ava’s eyes were wide and glistening, and her lips were pressed together as she tried to hold back her laughter. She glanced at the ceiling and shrugged innocently.
Sarah would’ve thought Ava would be terrified after that encounter with her so-called grandfather, but that didn’t seem to be the case. “Do you know where his phone is?”
Casually opening the dryer and pulling out a clean towel, Ava began folding it on top of the washing machine. “How should I know where his phone is? It’s not my responsibility to keep track of it. He might be surprised to find it under the bathroom sink, though. He really ought to be more careful.”
Despite the desperation surrounding their situation, Sarah burst out laughing as she turned back to her ironing. “You little sneak! I have to admire your efforts, though. I’m just concerned that you’ll get into more trouble than we can handle if you get caught.”
Ava lifted her chin in a way that reminded Sarah too much of herself. “I’m not going to get caught.”
“You don’t know that,” Sarah said quietly, wishing there was some way she could’ve protected Ava from this life.
More movement could be heard over their heads, something they were used to at this point. Sarah and Ava were only allowed in the rest of the packhouse when tasked with chores, returning to the basement as soon as they’d finished. They’d learned to recognize footsteps and determine where they were going. It definitely wasn’t Edward this time; the steps were too light. Sarah’s shoulders relaxed slightly.
Ava set another towel on the stack and reached back into the dryer. She stuck her nail under the silver collar around her neck and itched for a moment. “I’m careful, Mom. More careful than you can even imagine.”
Sarah’s heart twisted as her eyes rested on that horrid band of metal. She’d cried openly when a tiny collar had been clamped around Ava’s neck when she was just a toddler, a punishment Sarah had thought her daughter wouldn’t have to suffer along with her. They’d changed it out as she’d grown, but it never made Sarah feel any better about it. They both knew what it meant.
