Chapter 18
Jia
When Pa lockedme away in my room when I was sixteen I thought it was the worst thing in the world.
My little room had an ensuite bathroom so it was easy to keep me in there without letting me out. I got food given to me five times a day. Whatever I asked for.
In the beginning I was so distraught over ma’s death that I didn’t really get frustrated about being locked away.
It made sense that Pa wanted to keep me safe. After all I’d been seconds away from death and he’d saved me. That was what happened. So I never said anything when he told me to stay in my room and stationed a guard by the door.
I felt safe.
Unlike the cage I was in, my room looked more similar to a fancy penthouse suite in a hotel with all the stuff I’d loved as a teenager.
I never had posters of boys I liked or bands.
I was different and loved the medieval look. I had a four poster wrought iron bed with the chandelier to match and instead of lightbulbs I loved candles. I had floor boards with various candlesticks decorating the place.
It was beautiful and looked like it had been pulled from a painting.
The first few weeks of being locked up weren’t back but the next few were awful and Pa got aggressive as he looked for the men who’d assisted in breaking into our home. He was out for the blood of everybody. Not just the man who’d been responsible for the damage.
I’d heard gun shots a lot when people pissed him off and soon the whole being locked away in my room thing came to light for what it truly was.
It was somewhere I loved but I was a prisoner in my own home. Not allowed to leave, not allowed to speak to anyone.
It was safety.
Not like this.
I was scared to sleep, because earlier when I dosed off I woke up to find Balthazar watching me and touching himself.
As if he hadn’t creeped the fuck out of me enough.
As if I hadn’t had enough of the disgusting creeps that had come my way, it seemed like my end would come with the worst of them all. This asshole.
It had to be late now. Very late and the room was lit by a lamp.
I sat in the cage waiting.
It was a while ago since I’d seen him but what I wanted to see was him come in and go to bed.
The plan was very simple, quite unlike the plan to escape that had gone to hell earlier.
It was simply this: once he came in and went to sleep I’d sleep too. I’d close my eyes and sleep.
Of course that was providing his promise of havinglaterdidn’t mean now, or anytime soon.
He looked like one of those guys, those creeps who liked the game. Who liked the fear. That was what I’d worked out.
I remembered Anya watching one of her criminal mind shows. She loved anything like that. While I’d complained because I didn’t want to miss the start of the Real Housewives of Beverly hills, she’d been glued to the screen watching a show about serial killers. It was supposed to be our girls night in.
The girl had a good head on her keeping up to date and clued up on things like that. Maybe if I wasn’t raised around so much guns and violence I too would have delved into those sorts of shows. What I loved though was more of an escape for me.
If however, I’d watched a little more of criminal minds with Anya I may be able to figure this guy out more than I had.
What I did guess though was that fear was a big turn on. The more afraid I got the more turned on he got. Only time could procure the fear because the longer I stayed in here the worse I got. Add the ways he’d both grossed me out and creeped me out to the mixture and I was one damn mess that would be perfect for him.
