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Putting my diary back, I climb into bed, deciding to talk to Dax tomorrow; the giant ape can stew just a little longer. I hope that he agrees to help me because, without him, I’m screwed and will have no other option but to marry that pompous, spoiled arsehole.
The following day, I wake up feeling more tired than yesterday; it’s almost as if I’ve had no sleep whatsoever, and my body aches from head to foot. Throwing back the duvet and pad into my bathroom, glaring at myself in the mirror when I spot the bruising looking worse, “fucking great,” I mutter. I begin filling a bath, hoping a soak will help ease some of the pain. Grabbing some more painkillers from the cabinet, I take two with a glass of water.
Stripping out of my clothes, gently easing myself down into the water, hissing as my ribs protest in pain. I sit for a few minutes before lying back and letting the warm water ease the tension in my body; my mind wanders to Mum. What will she do if I disappear? What will happen to her?
Maybe I can get Dax to get her out, too.
Screaming and smashing glass pulls me from my thoughts, moving a little too fast to get out of the tub, ignoring the fact that my body is sore as fuck. I quickly pull on a pair of joggers and a T-shirt and sprint out of my room. I come to a halt; the hallway is littered with glass, and I notice that all the vases are broken to shards on the floor.
“Stay the fuck away from me,” Mum screeches from her room; I look around to see if any of my father’s men are coming to help, but as always, they are nowhere to be seen. Taking matters into my own hands, I run full speed along the hallway, bursting into my parents’ bedroom, spotting Mum curled up in a ball in the corner of the room while Dad stands over her.
“Get the fuck away from my mum,” I snarl at him, my protective instinct fully taking over as I ignore the warning alarms going off in my head, the need to protect Mum stronger than anything else. Dad chuckles as he turns to face me, and that’s when I notice the blood running down his face; he has a slash running from above his left eye down to his cheek.
Mum got him good.
“What the fuck did you say to me,” he growls as his attention is pulled momentarily from mum to me. He stalks towards me; a glint of silver pulls my focus to the knife in his right hand, which is currently pointed straight at me.
“I could gut you both, right here, right now and no one would come to your rescue,” the sick fuck laughs as he lunges for me albeit clumsily, I move to the side as he collapses on the floor in a heap the blood, he has lost making him slow and sluggish.
I move for Mum, pulling her up and dragging her out of the room as Dad tries to regain some of his balance; Dax comes running up the stairs.
“What the fuck is going on?” he pants as he reaches us; he takes in the sight before him. Mum's tear-stained face, and dad is lying in a heap on the floor, “what did you do?” he demands as he scoops Mum into his arms.
“I didn’t do shit; we have to get Mum out of here before he kills her,” I plead with him just as Dad stands up, finally managing to pull his ass up off of the floor.
“Neither of you are leaving this fucking house,” he seethes as he lunges for us again, mum squeaks in Dax’s arms. “Dax put my wife down and escort her to the guest room,” Dad commands. I watch in horror as Dax follows the command, but as he passes me, he winks; the fucker is up to something.
“As for you, daughter of mine. I’ll make sure that you go ahead with this wedding whether you like it or not,” Dad spits as he grabs hold of my arm, pulling me roughly along the hallway. I try to pull my arm from his grip but he only tightens it to the point where I know for a fact, I’m going to have bruises. He shoves open my bedroom door, throwing me inside; I watch as Daniel appears with a drill in hand.
Daniel removes the lock from the inside of my door as my father chuckles at the sheer horror on my face, “You think I didn’t know about that lock, silly girl? Of course I did,” he snarls as Daniel finishes his work. They exit my room, and the sound of a lock engaging from the other side has me dashing for the door; I try to pull it open, but it’s locked, “I told you, daughter, you are a weak and useless whore; you and your stupid tart of a mother aren’t going fucking anywhere,” dads dark laugh follows him along the hallway.
Looking around my room, hunting for my phone, it’s nowhere to be found, which can only mean that while I was trying to help Mum, that arsehole Dexter or Daniel came into my room and took it. Dad is trying his hardest to ensure I cannot escape the house.
Looking out my window, I first notice a set of giant ladders. Outside the window, a man dressed in dark blue overalls climbs the ladder. I recognise him as one of Maria’s sons; he looks at me, his eyes full of sorrow as he begins attaching a vast metal frame to my window that has bars going across it; my sick and twisted dad is locking me in like some prisoner, or maybe this is his twist on a fairytale where the princess is kept locked up for her good.
It reminds me of the fairytale Mum read me as a child; a princess gets locked away in the castle because her father is frightened that something terrible will happen to her so one day, she discovers that her maid is a witch, and she begs her for help. The witch tells the princess to bring her a wheelbarrow and a bearskin. The witch enchants both items and when the princess wears the bearskin, she becomes disguised as a bear to explore her kingdom without being discovered.
Dad is losing his damn mind if he thinks that I’m not going to find a way to escape; my determination is stronger than ever now, and he has left me no other choice. Pulling my heavy curtains closed even though it’s still morning, I have no desire to look outside now, especially when I can’t leave the damn room. Flipping on my bedside lamp, I slump onto my bed; I think this is the worst thing Dad has done. I mean, sure, the beatings were bad enough, but locking me away, hoping that no one would notice, he hasn’t thought about my studies or the fact that my professors will notice and then I’ll lose my place at Royal Cross, or maybe that’s what he was planning all along.
The sound of the door being unlocked pulls my attention as Maria enters the room with a tray of food; the woman says nothing, sets it down on the small table at the bottom of my bed and then leaves again. It’s not like Maria not to say anything granted it’s not like we have full blown conversations or anything, but usually she would say good morning at the very least, I do not doubt that my father has warned the staff not to speak to me, I’m sure he sees it as an extra punishment.
Ignoring the plate of food because right now, the thought of eating makes me want to vomit; instead, I sit on my bed and try to come up with a plan to get out of here. After about two hours, I decide that the best course of action is for me to speak to Dax because if I’m going to do this then I need to do it right his friends know how to make people disappear.
I hear the lock clicking as my door swings open again, revealing Dax standing in the doorway; he does not attempt to come inside. Instead, he stands waiting, watching me.
“Your mum is gone,” he says, his voice rough, almost as if he’s been crying, but that can’t be true because I’ve never seen him cry.
“Gone?” I look at him, confused. What the hell does he mean by she’s gone.
“Your dad believes that she needs medical attention, so she has been admitted to St Prince’s for observation.”
“What the fuck, that bastard had her committed,” I fume.
How fucking dare he.
First, he demanded that I marry Aidan, and now he has taken away Mum from me. Dax enters my room and closes the door softly behind him.
“No,” he says as he engulfs me in his arms. At six foot four, he towers over my five-foot-three frame, “the staff at the hospital will make it look like she’s there, but I have moved her to a safe house. One your father doesn’t know about.”
