AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I turn away. “I did once. A bit. But usually others. After my father passed, I worried for my mother. Then I did worry for myself after she died as well.”
“How old were you?”
Why do I get the feeling he already knows the answer?
“Twelve with Dad. Fifteen with Mom.”
“And you have been on the streets since then?” he presses.
My body shakes involuntarily and I shake my head. “Please …pleasedon’t ask me about that. If you never ever honor another request of mine, please honor this one.”
“Diana. I cannot finish my work with you without knowing what you have been through. And I will do whatever I must to ensure you are fully honest with me.” He stands up and plucks the book from the table.
Going to the new cabinet-slash-end table, he puts the book inside and fastens a lock on the doors, placing the key on a chain around his throat, where it hangs next to his silver cross and the key to my ankle chain.
“That is for the attitude you took this morning. I will decide when you may have the cabinet unlocked,” he tells me. “And for your reticence, I will return later in the afternoon.” With that, he leaves, removing the trash from breakfast as he goes.
The lock clicks, but in my mind I still hear the click of the cabinet lock, and theotherlock. On my bedroom door. And once more, I have no means of escape, even fictional.
Lying on my side, I close my eyes and let the tears overtake me.
Chapter Fourteen
Diana
ANOTHER ODD THING I notice, Thomas has never withheld food from me. Being poor growing up, we never had a lot of extra to eat, and then that fat bastard ensured I didn’t eat much to keep me skinny and small and young-looking. In stories, people who are kidnapped like this are usually punished by having meals withheld. Not here.
Not that any punishment I have gotten has been nice. But…
No buts, Diana!I scold myself.Don’t start sympathizing with him and this crazy ass place!
No, it’s not sympathizing. It’s just curiosity. That’s all.
Right?
It keeps my mind busy to think about the mundane things around me. I can’t escape, so I can at least stay alert.
Who cooks? The food sometimes tastes different, so do different people cook for the whole cult? I know they have worship on Sundays with the public, but how many people are in this cult, like, living here?
So far, I know of Thomas, Lisa, Catherine, and Father Oliver. Maybe the man who brought the cabinet down too. Were Lisa and Catherine taken like me? “Rescued”? Do men get “rescued” too? What were they like before? What was Thomas like? Was he wild, like the version of him I saw the other night?
If I never comply, will I be stuck down here forever? Or will Thomas kill me like he killed Rick?
The memory of Thomas’ sheer energy — never mind the whole rock star look he had going on — makes me shiver. That wasn’t a novice pastor. That was a killer. And not a cold one. He killed with passion that emanated from his body in waves. Knowing if I don’t comply that he may kill me with that same passion is terrifying.
He’d alsofuckyou with that same passion,the little voice in my head reminds me.Maybe the first time in your life you actually enjoyed it.
Shut. Up.I squeeze my eyes shut and tune out my subconscious.
Here’s the sad thing.
If he wanted me for me, maybe I’d give in. Hell, I’ll join a cult if I am taken care of and cherished.
But I’m not. He wants to save me. To change me. He doesn’t care about me, he wants to mold me to some imaginary potential he is obsessed with. No one has ever loved me for me. Not even a crazy man.
I swallow around a lump in my throat.
What am I supposed to do, knowing I will never be perfect for anyone to actually love?
