“Our family will look for us. Max and Alexa will, too,” she says.
My gaze focuses on her, a single nod following my words. “Yes, they will.” I hope my voice sounds more confident than I feel. “We just have to hold on till then. We can do that, right?”
“Right…” Veronica nods and begins to scan the area. “I need to use the bathroom.”
I motion to the bucket next to her. There’s one on each side, which I assume is one for her and one for me. “Gotta use the bucket, Ronnie.”
She groans. “No way.”
I chuckle weakly, taking some small pleasure in my ability to make Veronica uncomfortable. “Welcome to the glamorous side of being held captive,” I tell her, wincing as the laughter tugs at my injury. She shoots me a withering glance.
“I swear, Isaac,” she grumbles, grimacing at the bucket in disgust. “When we get out of here, I'm booking the most luxurious spa day imaginable.”
“I’ll join you,” I tease, attempting to mask my growing concern. These people are smart. The basement is well-sealed, and there is a lack of sound. Which means this area is most likely somewhere secluded. If we want out, we will have to outsmart them because right now, there’s no obvious way out, and our subsequent rescue seems increasingly unlikely. But keeping her hopes up is all I can do for now.
“We need to get out of here,” she murmurs after a long silence.
“Any ideas?”
“I hate to admit it,” she starts, biting her lip in frustration. “But I got nothing.. Our situation is grave..”
I nod, sharing her sentiment. Every moment spent here makes my skin crawl. I’m more worried for her than myself, if I’m being honest. I can’t get pregnant, so more than likely, she will be the target—a chance I’m not willingly going to stay idle for. The sound of approaching footsteps puts me on high alert. Making me shift in my spot, ignoring my bladder that screams for release. Veronica’s eyes focus on the door that opens. Light spills into the room, followed by the couple. Who walks in, both carrying trays of food. A boiled egg, a banana, and a cup of water. A nice and nutritious breakfast for their baby-making machines. However, beggars can’t be choosers, and I’m hungry. So, I'll eat it, and I can't have myself wasting away if I want to get us out of here.
My eyes track their movements. The man sets down the tray before Veronica, his eyes lingering on her just a second too long for my liking. I clench my fists but know better than to react. We need information, clues, and anything that might help us find a way out.
“Bon appétit,” he practically purrs, his grin revealing yellowed, crooked teeth. “I’m Harry, and that’s my wife, Priscilla. You were sleeping, and we didn’t get to formally introduce ourselves.” His eyes flicker to me before focusing back on her. Veronica meets his gaze steadily before glancing down at the tray, her lips curled in distaste. Yet, she reaches out for a banana, peeling it slowly.Good girl. Eat. Stay strong.
“When was your last period, girl?” he asks softly, walking over to a wall and ripping off a piece of paper. No, not just any piece of paper, it’s a calendar. That’s when the sinking feeling inside my chest finally settles, my muscles stiffen when he asks louder this time. “When was your last period?”
The tension in the room is palpable. Veronica, however, doesn’t bat an eyelid. She only smirks, taking a small bite out of the banana and chewing deliberately slowly, her eyes never leaving his.
“It’s due soon,” Veronica says, her tone flat as she continues to chew on the fruit with a scowl on her beautiful face. My gaze moves towards Priscilla, who walks over to her husband and marks something down on the calendar. Before our eyes meet, the look in her eyes is so full of hunger and desire that, I’m sure if her husband weren’t here, she probably would have pulled out my cock and shoved it down her throat. And I’ll exploit that. It will be our way out.
Division.
The idea takes root deep in my mind until it blooms into a plan, if I’m going to protect Ronnie. I have to tread carefully, using the wife’s attraction as another tool in my plan to escape. Turning on my charm, I smile and politely whisper, “Thank you for the food.” The sound of my voice sounds foreign and detached from the rage inside me.
The woman lifts slightly, my stomach churns at the sight, pulling my eyes off her. I take a bite of the boiled egg. The hair in the nape of my neck rises. Feeling the weight of Harry’s stare,, seeming to sense something is going on.
“Isn’t he so polite?” the wife coos, batting her eyelashes at the husband. I look up then, trying to gauge his reaction. He grunts in response, eyes flicking between us like a predator watching its prey. I feel a bead of sweat trickle down my temple, but don’t dare wipe it away.
“So we are kidnapped, chained, and fed. Why?” I ask. Priscilla turns to me, running a hand over the braid that rests over her grey sleeve dress. “You both need to be healthy if we want to conceive. Like I told her last night. We will do anything to make our family whole.”
I nod, wrestling the urge to puke at her words. “So what’s the game plan? I fuck you? Or I’ll be fucking her?” I ask bluntly, causing Veronica to choke on her water, gasping and turning a shade of puce. There’s no other alternative because there’s no way he's touchingher. A shiver runs down my spine, the reality of our predicament hitting me like a punch to the gut when I look towards my girl. Who looks like she' s about to be sick. Veronica’s brows arch in surprise, a single choked laugh tumbling out. “Fuck me?” she echoes incredulously.
I nod, a silent answer to her question. I’ll be damned if someone else touches her; that won’t happen. Harry clears his throat, adjusting his belt to stop us from continuing. “After some talking, we agreed that it’s best if we attempt to have a biological child first.”
The words hit me with the gravity intended, each syllable slamming into my psyche as my eyes lock on the stormy greys. Veronica freezes when Priscilla walks over to me. “It’s the only way, for now. If nothing happens after trying, then it will be up to you and the will of God.”
“The will of God?” Veronica manages to sputter out. Her hands tremble slightly as she sets her water back down.
“No… he’s definitely not touching Veronica,” I seethe. “If you want a baby. I have a cock for your wife to use, defile, do whatever the fuck she wants with it for all I care, but don’t you dare fucking touch her.”
The wife’s eyes flicker with something akin to remorse. “You really don’t have a…” she starts, before the husband interjects gruffly. “ We want our child to be created the natural way, not just science,” he adds, his tone surprising me with its sincerity. “Given your situation, you don’t have much of a say.”
“And what happens after?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. “Do we just walk away? Pretend we haven’t been kidnapped, forced to make a baby?”
The husband shifts, but it is the wife who answers. “We’re not monsters,” she says softly. “After the baby is born, you’re free to go.” Something I find extremely hard to believe. “And we will disappear.”
