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A laugh echoes in the room, and not even my sobs can drown it out.
The static screeches through the room before the video begins to play once again. Dramatic moans take over and I turn my head, expecting a porno to be on the screen. My eyes don’t even glance over the naked girls, it’s Beau’s limp body chained to a wall that has my entire focus. He’s lethargic, his head bobbing back and forward slowly as if he’s starting to come out of a drug induced haze.
Anger boils inside of me, awakening a savage type of crazy I never knew existed in myself. Tears slip from my eyes, trailing over my cheeks. I thought I was all cried out, but I’m proven wrong as what’s left of my heart begins to shatter for the man being tortured. A quick survival reaction has me searching the screen for any sign of where he’s at. The concrete wall at his back looks the same as the walls in my room, although it’s not nearly as filthy here.
I move closer, wanting to memorize every detail they’re allowing me to witness. I’ll need to think about it all again and try to come up with a plan as soon as they shut the television off.
He’s dirty.I can’t tell if it’s dried blood or dirt smudged all over his body. His face is swollen. His stomach looks bruised… or maybe it’s more dirt.At least I hope it’s only dirt.I exhale a shaky sigh, thinking of the hell he’s been through in the short span of time we’ve been apart.
All of the girls are blonde and naked, with their hands groping all over my guy. His muscles flex when one of them grips his cock and I hold my breath as his jaw clenches from gritting his teeth. I’ve learned to read him well enough to know he’s fighting a war in his knocked-out state of mind. The girls are a fucked-up distraction,they have to be, and I won’t fall forit. With that thought, I study absolutely everything. The angle of the camera. The floor under his feet. The tear stains down his perfectly heartbroken face.All of it.
With each new observation, my fury rises, making it harder to stay calm and collected so I can gather every detail. But I manage it. If the society wants to play games… challenge fucking accepted. The screen goes black, yet I remain frozen in place, my mind replaying everything I just watched. They want me to be jealous. To overreact, so I’ll take this out on Beau, but what they’ve allowed me to see simply tells me everything I need to know.
If anything happens to him… the amount of torture I will repay to this fucked up society has grown exponentially. Haven’t they ever heard of what happens when a woman is scorned? We go crazy and I won’t hesitate to unleash every ounce of mine on them.
Finally, I take a few steps back, slowly retreating from the half-truths, half-lies that the society felt the need to show me. Before I’ve made it back to the mattress, however, the screen flashes on again and my stomach drops. Each time this box has been on, it’s been nothing good.
This time, I steel my spine and move quickly so I’m able to focus sooner.
It’s my mother.She’s smiling as she sits on a blanket at the park. I remember this place. She would take me there about once a week when I was a little girl. I haven’t felt as carefree as I did back then in a long time. I miss it… I miss her.
The camera shifts, showing me the playground where I’m laughing and running toward her. “Can we stay longer, please Momma?” My young and naïve voice sounds bratty and annoying, but my smile’s so big, my cheeks flushed with happiness almost makes up for it.
What does this video mean? Why do they want me to see it? Before I can figure out any answers, the screen goes black again.
Chapter 5
IRIS
To say I’m overwhelmed is a serious understatement. My mind has been spinning with all the different images and information I’ve been sent since being trapped in this godforsaken room. I don’t have any concept of time or could I even take a guess at how long I’ve been locked up in this dungeon. The constant videos and pictures are deflating me instead of giving me hope that I’d be able to figure out the pieces to this giant fucked up puzzle.
I’d woken up not long ago to the phone chiming with more messages, and despite me not wanting to care about whatever they want me to know about my parents, I find myself eager for every morsel of information I can come by. Especially where Beau is concerned.
What do they want from me? Why do they insist on showing me all of this instead of just telling me what it is they think I should know? It’s the thrill of the mindfuck for them and I’m not sure I can take another second of it.
They’ve shown me numerous photos and videos of my mother. Each of them is taking a new piece of my heart straight to her grave. They’ve shown me videos of Beau pretty much being sexually assaulted by some whores. Watching himbound and helpless makes me absolutely livid, which sends my emotions all over the place. Then I get another video of something else that I’m supposed to be calm and focused while watching, and it’s not working.
My emotions are flying all over the place like I’m on a damn roller coaster and all I want to do is get off this fucking ride. In fact, if I ever get out of here, I will never… ever ride another ride again. The thought of it just makes me want to hurl in the corner.
There’s a fresh bottle of water, sandwich, and a pack of aspirin waiting for me by the door.Someone must’ve snuck it in here once they realized I was asleep.It only further confirms whoever’s behind this travesty is indeed always watching. I suppose they knew I’d damn well need the aspirin as I couldn’t help but silently cry myself to sleep with the devastating sense of loss smothering me. I’m trying so fucking hard to stay strong, but it’s difficult with the death of King weighing heavily on my heart along with the torture they’re obviously putting Beau through.
Swallowing down the pills, I flip the phone open as I set the sandwich beside me. I don’t know if it’s smart for me to eat because I’ll need the strength to survive or if it’s been tampered with and they’ll drug me again. The image loads and I instantly recognize the man from before who was shaking my father’s hand. It hits me then who he really is. I didn’t recognize him in the first photo, but at this angle I can tell it’s one of the men who were always around me and my mother. I thought it was silly how he went places with my mother, but after her death, I learned she had clearly needed the protection. There’s an audio clip as well, but if I’m being honest with myself, I’m not sure I want to hear what it has to say.
With a huff, I tear the sandwich in pieces, attempting to gauge if it’s been messed with and press play. My body’s alreadystrung tight, as my heart rate kicks up, thumping wildly in my chest.
“I’ll kill you, do you hear me?” There’s a loud smack following my father’s threats, like he hit someone.What in the hell?My dad is the most non-violent person I’ve ever met. Did he get hit? Or throw something? I drop the sandwich, bringing the phone closer to try and hear anything else in the background. My other hand finds my hair, shoving it out of my face to rub at my temple.
“I swear I’m not with him, he’s keeping me safe. Doing the job you hired him for.” I draw in a stunned breath. It’s my mother’s voice, laced with tears. Surely my father didn’t strike her? There’s no way he’d ever hurt her. He was always harping about our safety. He’d say he’s a politician, holding an important position in our world, which unfortunately comes with its set of enemies.
“Mark my words, Melody. If I catch you with him again, I will bury you.” My teeth sink into my lower lip, biting down until a touch of metallic flavor hits my tastebuds. The recording goes on to play the slapping sound over and over for sixty seconds until I’m so mixed up in my emotions, I feel like I’m barely hanging onto the edge of a cliff. There’s a rocky ledge and everything’s about to fall, me included, getting sucked into darkness.
I have no way of knowing the context of any of the information I’ve been given, and it’s royally screwing with my head. My hand tightens in my hair, the sharp shock of pain shaking me out of my imminent spiraling. Releasing my lip, my tongue swipes out, licking away the sting as I get to my feet.
I have to do something; I can’t remain trapped in here while these people fuck with me time and time again. I begin to pace, yelling out to whoever’s listening. “Let me out of here! You wanted my attention, well now you’ve gotten it. Keeping melocked in here doesn’t mean I can confront my father, which I’m guessing is what you want. Right?”
The phone chimes, effectively pausing my footsteps.
Private
