Stomp. Stomp. Stomp.
His boots on the stairs. He wanted us to hear. Wanted the panic to settle in before he even hit the basement floor. I pressed my spineinto the concrete behind me, fists curled in my lap, watching the door at the top of the stairs.
I counted the seconds. Sometimes it was five. Sometimes ten. Tonight, it took longer. Maybe he wanted to make sure we knew who owned the time down here.
The door burst open, light spilling down the steps and cutting stripes into the dark. He filled the doorway. A bear of a man, face cold and blank, mouth twisted into something that might’ve been a smile if you squinted.
He took his time coming down the stairs. I thought about what I’d do if he opened my cage first. Break his knees, bite his throat out if I had to. But he never did. He always saved me for last.
He carried something in his hand. Metal, glinting. Knife? Crowbar? I didn’t care. I wanted him to try it.
He stopped at the glass, looking from me to her, back to me again. Slowly, he set the tool down on top of the metal feeding slot in the glass. Then he crouched, peering through at me like a scientist with a rat.
“My favorite time of day,” he said. “Playtime time for the pets. Have you two learned anything since our last conversation?” He rapped his knuckles on the divider, ignoring the way I bared my teeth.
I spat at the glass. “Come closer. Let’s see who eats who.”
He laughed, it echoed off the walls. “Still so much fight.” He glanced to Amelia, eyes raking over her tiny frame. “This one’s more interesting. You’re so quiet, dear. You don’t even whimper.” He faked a pout, eyes dead as stone. “We might have to fix that tonight.”
Amelia shrank further against the wall. I wanted to rip the glass out of its fucking tracks. My pulse thundered in my head, louder than his footsteps, louder than anything. I slammed my fist into the barrier, hard enough to jar my shoulder. “Touch her and I’ll?—”
He rose, slow and deliberate, like a curtain coming up on an act he’s played a hundred times.
“You’ll what?” He cocked his head, pitying. “You’re behind glass. You’re less than a pet. You’re a curiosity. You exist because I allow it, boy.”
He turned his back on me.Dismissed me, like I was nothing. Then he stalked to the door of Amelia’s cage, unlocking it with a casual twist of his wrist, the heavy iron swinging open with a groan so loud it hurt.
Amelia didn’t scream. Not even when he grabbed her by the shoulder and hauled her up. She fought him—shoulder twisting, feet kicking—but it was useless. He was built to break things, and she felt so small I thought he might snap her bones just for the thrill.
I shoved both fists against the glass, yelling her name, my voice breaking raw. It didn’t matter. The sound died in the blackness between us.
He shoved her to her knees in the middle of the cage, yanking her head up by her hair until her throat was exposed. I could see the fine tremor running through her. Fear, maybe, or something worse. But her eyes stayed on mine. Locked in, like a lifeline.
He crouched beside her, face inches away, hand curling around the back of her neck. The show was for me, I understood that now. Everything was for an audience.
“See, this one’s perfect. Submissive, but stubborn. She’s not like you, she knows her place.” He pressed a gloved hand to the side of her face, thumb stroking her cheek. “Still pretty. Even after all this.” He pinched her chin, turning her face toward the glass, letting me see the way her lips trembled.
I wanted to break every tooth in his head.
“I could make her scream. Would you like that?” he asked, not looking at me. “Would it make you feel alive, to see her cry?”
“Go to hell,” I whispered, voice shaking. “You sick freak.”
He smiled, all teeth and emptiness. “Already there, pet. And you brought her with you.”
His hand fisted in her hair, yanking it back until she gasped, a sound so small it barely made it through the glass. He brought the knife to her throat, letting the edge skate up over her skin. Not cutting, just reminding her (and me) how easy it would be.
I slammed my fists into the barrier again, throat raw. “Let her go! You want pain? Come here. Don’t hide behind her.”
He ignored me. He always did.
He leaned in, mouth beside her ear, whispering things I couldn’t hear. Whatever he said, it made her flinch. Then he let her go, shoving her to the ground.
She didn’t make a sound. Not once. Not even when she hit the floor.
“You see?” He turned to me, triumphant. “You could learn from her. You scream, you threaten, you rattle your cage. It’s pathetic.”
I panted, hands aching. I wanted to tear his spine out.
