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Chapter 49
Catharina
The house in the distance, no doubt, once more appealing than it was now, sat under the glow of the pretty moon, but even that couldn’t make it a thing of beauty.
Windows were broken, and the glass of at least three panes was missing entirely. I liked that. It looked easy to escape from, as did the door that looked like it had been kicked in, a square chunk completely missing from the middle of the wood. It was a DIY doggy door for a man who probably didn’t have dogs, at least not the kind with fur.
He couldn’t think of animals the same way I did, not with each blade tainted by some poor creature’s blood.
“Welcome home,” he said, with a smile, still chewing on that little wooden stick, no doubt the cause of his poorly-shaped incisors and, possibly, their missing neighbors.
The rusty vehicle slowed in front of the house, revealing more grime and decay in the form of rotting wood.
Mr. Piggy had finally told me his name on the bumpy journey here. Cedric. And he’d asked mine. I only told him Cat, and I didn’t even want him to know that.
Cedric’s foot pelted the brake a little too heavily, and as anticipated, my seat belt’s protection diminished. My hands came out to protect me from a brutal venture through the dirty windshield, and a tiny scream that I couldn’t hold back ejected from me.
Cedric didn’t comment. He hopped out of the vehicle, the squeaky door closing behind him.
He opened my door and tried to scoop me into his arms, his unclean hands brushing my vulva as he veered beneath me. I tensed and cringed, struggling to hold the tears back, along with the words, it’s my arm that hurts, not my legs.
He struggled with my weight, his bandy legs shaking as he kicked the passenger door closed.
He slowly trotted up the three steps to the house, taking a little longer on each one as his weight and mine shifted from one foot to another.
He opened the unlocked front door. This one squeaked, too, as did the rat that ran out the second it opened.
My eyes widened at the sight of black fur, and my teeth clamped, wondering what other horrors would be lurking in this house. He stepped inside, instantly putting me down. Bare feet stepped through dust as I tried to avoid the excrement of his furry friend.
A light switch brought a glow to the space, emanating from a shadeless bulb that flickered. Blackness. Light. Blackness. Light.
“You hungry?” Cedric trampled down the hallway to the dark kitchen. Another bulb flickered on.
I followed his heavy footsteps into the kitchen. Half of the old white cupboards were open, filled with as many cobwebs as they were cans of food, which were likely as out of date as the mismatched furniture scattered throughout the house.
“Take a seat.” Cedric pointed to the center of the kitchen—a table with a dirty lace cloth.
I did as I was told, the unsteady wooden legs shaking beneath me as I tucked in my chair. My legs were shaking, too, almost hitting the table with every vibration. And so were my hands, hidden beneath the tatty cloth that tickled my thighs. My whole body quivered. I tried to hide it from the man who wasn’t even looking. He lit the stove, and the pot was already there, starting to simmer.
I shifted in my seat, removing the bloodstained coat from beneath me, not being able to handle the smell of it any longer, even though I wanted to be covered.
Cedric pulled out the chair opposite. He sat with his legs wide apart and a new wooden stick in his mouth, pulling it out a second later to examine something on the end of it.
Something smelled awful, and I hoped it was whatever was balancing on the end of his filthy stick and not what was cooking in the pot.
“I know they punish you girls for talking unless spoken to, but I’m not that kind of master. I’m just lonely. I want some company, and I know this isn’t the most conventional way of meeting someone, but look at me, sweetheart. Do you think I’d have much luck attracting a pretty lady at a bar?”
I couldn’t answer that.
There was no way my opinion wouldn’t raise his temperature for all the wrong reasons.
“Dating can be hard.”
He laughed, his dirty spit flying through the air. My nostrils flared as it hit my cheek, and they also confirmed his breath contributed to the rancid smell in this room.
“A lot of the time, feelings don’t line up.” Cedric laughed again, and I started to feel like he had some kind of medical issue and he couldn’t control it.
What he said was true, though. Feelings didn’t line up. True for Remi—the man who I’d loved without knowing, and me—the girl he’d led in to be sold, without so much as caring.
