Saved: a dark romance Read online
Page 7
He leaves.
I’m simultaneously aroused, confused, and frozen with fear.
The Lunch
Holly
Maria takes me to a dining room on the main floor the next day. I’ve never been in this room. So far, other than my room, Alessandro’s room, and the kitchen, I’ve only been in the hallways.
It’s a lovely dining room, all stone and arches. A big dark gleaming marble table that would comfortably seat a dozen, a wall that has a cabinet with all sorts of expensive-looking ceramics on display. The room is dim, candles lit and lights on in the display cabinets with just a bit of light filtering in from a large arched stained-glass window. The table is set for just two. I’m dressed in a pretty pink sundress, my hair in a Katniss Everdeen side braid. I asked for a haircut again, putting the note in Maria’s hand that read,
“Haircut? please please please. Or scissors so I can trim it myself.”
The young woman who comes in with Maria a few moments later looks at me suspiciously.
I stand. “I’m Holly. Are you Tessa?”
She nods and shakes my hand. She’s wearing a big bandage on her forearm.
“Hi Holly.”
I’ve got no idea who she is. She’s young, short, curvy, and very attractive. She’s around my sister’s age, I think, early to mid-twenties. She has lots of dark blonde hair, Mediterranean skin tone, with light brown eyes that sparkle like quartz. She’s wearing grey jersey shorts and a white t-shirt. The clothing they put me in down in those underground barracks the night I arrived. Slave clothing. Two guards move into the room and stand by the door.
This weirds me out a little bit. I haven’t spent time around guards since I first got here and my previous experience with them hadn’t been good so I’m understandably shaken.
“So, Holly, you live here?” she asks after a long moment. She’s not acting frightened.
“I do.” I put my napkin across my lap.
“Is this your family’s home?” she asks.
I shake my head, “No.”
She waits for me to expand on my answer. I don’t. I take a sip of my water.
Maria is back and serving soup.
“Have you lived here long?” she asks.
“A couple years,” I say.
Silence for most of the soup.
“Do you know why I’m here?” she asks me.
I shake my head, “No. I was only told that I’d get to have lunch with you today. You’re very pretty. I love your hair. I desperately need a haircut.”
Alessandro’s words from before echo in my head.
“Others have been sating my appetite. But only just barely.”
Who is she? Is she another slave being spared? She seems suspicious of me. Does she know what this place is? She’s not going to be his pretty new flower, is she? He hasn’t stopped touching her because of me, has he? And she knows this, maybe? Possibilities swirl around in my head and I feel something clogging my throat, but I push it away. The main course comes.
“Your hair is beautiful. Why would you wanna cut it?” she asks.
I shrug, “It’s too long and it’s so heavy. It’s just in the way.”
She nods but she doesn’t seem like she’s even heard me. She looks upset. No, upset isn’t an apt enough word. She looks haunted.
She catches me watching her and she smiles, but it’s a sad smile.
“Are you married, do you have children?” I try small talk.
“I have children, but I’m a…” she swallows, “I’m a widow.”
Not remotely ‘small’ in the talk world.
“I’m so very sorry. You’re so young,” I tell her and the sadness coming at me is making me want to cry.
“Are you okay?” she asks, glancing at the guards whose eyes are on us.
I paint on a smile, “Yes. Uh huh.”
“Safe? Are you safe here?”
“Absolutely. Alessandro keeps me safe.” I smile. And then I wonder if I was supposed to say his name or not.
She looks like she’s measuring her words before she replies.
“That’s good. He kept me safe, too. He rescued me from a terrible situation. And now I’m going home to my family. Someone is coming to get me, thanks to him.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Very kind of him. I don’t even want to think about what could’ve happened to me. Good to know that you’re… okay?” She’s asking me if I’m truly okay. Her eyes are communicating something. What does she know about him or suspect about him?
I give her a big smile and dig in to my lunch. Something about him just doesn’t fit. I’m ravenous, suddenly, probably due to relief, and polish off my lunch, thinking about how he saved her, how she’ll get home to her family. He’s not put her at this table to taunt me. He hasn’t laid a hand on her.
He steps in at that moment and I feel my heart lift even higher. I give him a smile, feeling pride. But it’s mixed emotions because this man who kept me safe, who helped Tessa, he also killed Esmerelda in cold blood right in front of me. It doesn’t fit.
“You’re still eating. Zack is here.” He’s obviously talking to her as I have no idea who Zack is, but he’s looking at me. I try to smile at him, but I feel very self-conscious. His expression is so serious, it makes my heart stutter.
“Do you want to finish your meal?” Alessandro asks her. “He can wait.”
“No, I’d like to get home as soon as possible. Thank you.” She rises.
We say our goodbyes and it’s awkward.
“Can I give you a hug goodbye?” I ask her. I’m feeling so relieved that she’s not just a pretty flower to replace me. She’s here because Alessandro helped her. He helped her --- another sign he’s not all bad.
She comes to me and gives me a tight hug. Her face has concern, but she nods at him and they leave the room together. He doesn’t touch her.
I melted into her hug probably a little more than one would expect when we’d only just met. I miss my sister so much. I miss constant hugs. Ang was so affectionate. My mom wasn’t, not after Dad died, so I soaked up all the affection my big sister offered. I miss that. I miss her so much I want to cry.
I’m alone in the dining room with the two guards. I’ve already finished eating so I’m not sure what to do with myself.
“Do I go back to my room?” I ask.
They both look at me and say nothing. I have no idea whether or not they even speak English.
Maria bustles in at that moment and waves at me to follow her. She walks me back up to my room. I take note of the layout. Why, I don’t really know. It occurs to me that I should have been cataloging this all this time. I haven’t been, because I haven’t really given escape any thought until Alessandro brought it up. This place feels like a fortress. It feels like escape hasn’t ever even been an option. And I’m so inexperienced at life.
My sister took me to the mall, to the store, to the library, to the movies. I took a bus to school. I spent a little time navigating Anchorage on my own when I stayed at my Gran’s, but I didn’t know all that much about life. I hadn’t even finished high school.
I decide I’m going to ask if I can take some correspondence courses on my list tomorrow. I’m going to ask for education so that I’m spending my time doing something worthwhile. That way, if I ever can get out of my gilded cage, I might have a clue how to go about… go about what, exactly? I’ll start with asking to do my high school diploma first and then maybe go from there.
I’m back in my locked bedroom and I’m feeling confused. I’m feeling like I’ve emerged today from some strange cocoon with new knowledge, new questions.
Is there ever going to be a life outside of this place for me?
Should I try to escape?
Should I forget any notion that Alessandro is good? Just watch and learn and wait to see what happens?
My door opens and it’s him.
I’m sitting in my wide window sill, my knees pulled up to my chest. I straighten so that I�
�m not giving him a view of my panties. Judging by the annoyed look on his face, he’s already caught a glimpse. I’d been staring down at the pool, watching a man skimming it.
“Did you have a nice lunch?” he asks.
I nod, “It was nice to have some English-speaking company. Thank you for giving that to me.”
“Do you know why I had you have lunch with her?”
I shake my head.
“She knows your sister.”
My world tilts and spins. I’m dizzy.
“My---”
“She’s your sister’s sister-in-law.”
“She…what?”
“I’m gonna tell you some things, about how you came here.”
I turn so I fully face him, my legs dangling from the windowsill. He sits on the edge of my bed.
“This is your reward for being good while Tessa was here. You did good.”
I tilt my head curiously, waiting for him to get to the point. Petrified, as I feel my world now and my world before I was kidnapped colliding.
“Your sister was taken into a place, another place, that trains women as sex slaves.”
My brain does what I can only describe as…tripping over something, scrambling so it doesn’t hit the floor.
“She was taken there, like you were taken and sent here. She spent the past two years in a private club in Thailand, serving their members. She was recently acquired by an American from a powerful family. She’s moved to the States and married him. He’s hired someone that he and I have as a common acquaintance, to find you. You were sent here after the men who had her took you as a surety to get her to behave. She likely believed that by behaving, you’d be set free. Obviously, that didn’t happen.”
His words wash over me, confusing me, almost drowning me. Angie was in for two years as a --- I try to swallow my emotions but I can’t swallow. I can barely think.
“Her husband and his brother are dangerous men. Dangerous men that now know you’re here.”
“Oh my God.”
“These men are responsible for the death of two of my relatives,” he says, leaning forward, balancing his forearms on his thighs, his eyes on me.
I gasp.
That is not good news. At all.
He snickers, “Looks like I might have to marry you to get them to back off.”
My eyes widen. My mouth drops open.
“You’re saying a lot without saying much.”
“Hm?” I’m in shock.
“Those eyes. They say it all. Don’t even need the words.” He looks sad, it’s as if he’s saying it to himself, more than me.
And I want to erase the sad. And I want to jump for joy because I have news about my sister. And I also want to fall to my knees and lose it because Angie spent two years as a slave. My poor sister. I can’t imagine her broken, a slave. She was always so strong.
And that’s why I was taken, so her captors could make her behave. She thinks I’m okay all this time because she saved me by cooperating with them. Until she gets back to the USA and finds out I’m missing. They broke her and I’m not even safe. Or, she doesn’t know if I am or not. But, I have been, thanks to Alessandro. My brain is traveling at a thousand What the Fucks per second.
“If your sister’s husband is looking for you for her, that’s a sign he cares for her.”
His words barely penetrate because I’m now absorbing his other words.
Marry me? He might have to marry me to get those dangerous men to back off? My world spins again. My sister, married to a dangerous man who was responsible for deaths of two of Alessandro’s relatives?
He might have to marry me? What on earth would that mean for my life?
He’s watching me.
“Muh- marry?” I ask.
He shrugs, “Might be the best way to make peace.”
“You could let me go,” I tell him. “Hand me over to my sister’s husband.”
His expression turns cold. Ice cold. I actually feel a chill crawl up my spine. Of all the things I could’ve said, I said that. And I know instantly that it was a mistake.
“Don’t ever, ever suggest that again. You hear me?” His eyebrows are up as he waits for my response.
I’m taken aback. “Why? Because you care for me?” How odd that he would even remark about Angie’s husband maybe caring for her.
He glares at me. “You’re not gone until I say so.”
I swallow and look away. The animosity coming off him is suddenly palpable. I can barely think, so much is flooding my brain.
He stands.
“I saved their sister from harm as a bargaining chip. To get them to back off trying to take you. But knowing these men, that’s probably not gonna be enough. Marriage is a common beef-ender between powerful men who grew up the way we did.”
Wow.
No, WOW!
I’m spinny. I’m disgusted. He didn’t save Tessa out of the goodness of his heart. He saved her as a bargaining chip because of me?
Because of me?
Does he actually want me?
Why?
We’re both staring at one another. I know my eyes are filled with accusation. His are icy cold.
“You might have to marry… me?” I ask again. The man who saved me is the man who killed Esmerelda, a man who only saved Tessa from harm so that he wouldn’t have to give me up? I just don’t get it.
He smiles, but it’s not a happy smile. It’s a sinister one.
“Do you actually want me or something?” I ask. “Besides to ruin me?”
He scoffs and rolls his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest.
“Guess it’d foil my plan to use you all up. If I’m stuck with you as a wife,” he mutters and I don’t know if he’s joking. “Then again, that’s the only possible outcome.”
I blanch. He looks like he’s joking. But I don’t really know if he’s joking.
But I do know he’s lying. He’s definitely lying, because his words ring in my head again. He talked about doing who he wanted until I was eighteen, which would suggest that he was waiting until I was eighteen and then he would… what? Only do me?
Me.
Would he be mine and mine alone? Would he make me lady of the house? Would I help him run this place? No. I couldn’t be part of slavery. I wouldn’t be part of something so wrong.
This is a place where people get raped. Killed. And it’s perfectly fine as long as the rapists don’t look at other girls who are off limits while they rape the girls who are … what… free game?
And it’s not just the sex slaves and the guards who get hurt, but other staff, too. Esmerelda died. She’d died at his hand. Because of me. And he says he’s gonna use me all up, ruin me, not make me his beloved wife, his 50/50 partner in life, mother to his babies.
But his babies. I suddenly see it. I see him holding me, me holding a baby. My heart starts to ache. Why?
He snaps his fingers in front of my face.
“No,” he says.
My eyes dart to his.
“Forget that fantasy. Being my wife wouldn’t be like that.”
I blink. How does he know that I’m thinking that?
This is irrational. All of it. Every…single…thought in my head… right now nothing makes sense.
“I said I’m going. I’m away for a few days. My cousin won’t be here after today, so you’ll have to tell me now if there’s anything you need, besides Spanish lessons and a haircut. You’re not getting either.”
“Your cousin?” I’m dazed.
“Mena. Jimena.”
“Oh.”
I had no idea. That explains why she’s not afraid to be snarky to him. Did Angie’s husband kill one of her relatives, too? Who?
“I’ll leave you this then.” He reaches into his pocket and hands me a silver necklace with a circular locket as large as a silver dollar dangling from it.
“Put it on. If you have an emergency, open the locket and push the button. It could be me that comes or someone I send
but you push that, someone is on the way.”
He shows me by opening it and by pressing his thumb inside it. I hear a loud buzzing sound. It’s shrill. He pulls his phone from his pocket and shows me the screen.
ATTN-Holly-3H
“What is the 3H for?”
“To tell me where in the house you’re having the problem from. Don’t take it off. If you push it and you’re elsewhere, it’ll give me your coordinates.”
“Coordinates?”
“Latitude, longitude. Don’t take it off. I can track you, too, if I call it up, as long as you’re wearing it.”
” I won’t.”
“Be good,” he warns. “Take it off and disappoint me and I’ll have a chip put in you instead.”
I blink at him. He continues to stare.
“Why can’t I have a haircut, Alessandro?” I ask.
He smiles and takes a lock of my hair into his hand and tugs it gently and then he leaves. The door locks.
I stare at it dumbfounded for a minute.
Angie.
Wow. Ang is married to a dangerous man who wants to rescue me from Alessandro.
She spent two years in slavery. Like those girls in the basement here.
I burst into tears. I’ve been an absolute idiot. I’ve spent two years in a bubble, unconcerned about anyone or anything while my sister lived a nightmare. I’ve spent all this time in my safe little bubble, drawing pictures, reading fantastical stories, watching Disney princess movies, and fantasizing about the master of the house, a murderer who wants to ruin me. My biggest problem is my hair growing too long and look what my sister has had to endure!
I cry myself to sleep, but I’m holding the silver locket tight in my hand, thinking about how screwed up all of this is, how screwy it is that I’m holding the locket tight, like it’s a prized and precious possession.
I’m woken by a hand gently shaking my shoulder. I gasp.
Dr. Jimena. She’s not in scrubs. She’s in jeans, high-heeled open-toed boots, and a leather jacket. Make-up on her face.
“You look amazing,” I tell her. She smiles. She’s wearing glittery wet-looking lip gloss. She is stunning.
“I have to go, I’m out of here for a couple weeks, at least. Longer if I can. I need to tell you a couple things and do something just quick.”