I have learned over the years to trust my instincts. They may not always be right, but most often are. And right now, it tells me strongly that this man I can trust. This one will be my safe haven.
So, I will listen, I will stay. Until a time comes that proves otherwise, I will allow him to call me his, provided he understands that I will also call him mine.
Maybe together we can burn down this world and start it anew, dancing in the flames while the sick ones burn.
“What happened after Earl brought you home?” Trey asks, cutting his eyes quickly to mine before going back to the highway stretching out into the horizon before us. I don’t know where we are going, and I’m not sure I care.
Twining his fingers with mine, I give them a squeeze, turning my head towards the window as I let myself sink back into hell.
Chapter 11
Rebecca
5 Weeks Ago
Earl hauls me up the stairs by my hair, ignoring my protests as he pounds on the door. Momma opens it, the look on her face freezing me in place, terror coursing through me. Grabbing my arm, she yanks me into the house, throwing me to the ground as she kicks me over and over.
Agony rips through me as her foot connects with my kidney, and again at the base of my spine.
“You ungrateful little cunt!” she screams. “After all we’ve done for you, and this is how you repay us?” Another kick lands, this time on my stomach, the breath knocking out of me at the blow. “You’re going to fucking learn, girl. We are in charge. You are nothing, Rebecca! Nothing!”
“That’s enough,” Papa says as he walks into the room. “Get up, bitch.”
I slowly bring myself to my feet, my body cramping in discomfort, legs shaking under me.
I fucked up.
Papa thrusts a cup in my hand, the left side of his mouth raised in a sneer. “It’s time for Rachel to be fed. Go do that while I work out what your punishment will be.”
Nodding, I take the tall cup, its top covered in Saran wrap, a straw poking out of the makeshift lid. Sliding out of the room, I keep my head down as I pass Papa and Earl, moving quietly down the hallway to the basement.
“Rachel honey, it’s me,” I call down to her as I descend the stairs. The stench is almost overwhelming. She’s been down here for two weeks now. Tied hand and foot to the cage bars, she can’t move, and sits in her own filth.
Tears pour down her face as she looks up through the bars at me, and it breaks my heart to see her like this. Dropping to my knees, I slide the cup between the bars, pretending not to notice the jagged black stitches keeping her lips together. Her gaze stays locked with mine as she drinks, despair and pain mixed with love in their depths.
“Everything will be okay, Rachel, I promise. Papa won’t keep you in there much longer, and then you’ll be able to come upstairs with us. We’ll have sleepovers in my room and dance around with music,” I tell her, trying desperately to keep that spark alive inside her. To give her an ounce of hope.
“Rebecca! Get your ass up here!” comes Papa’s shout, causing me to jump and Rachel’s eyes to fly wide.
“Love you, sissy,” I whisper to her while I stand. “Remember, okay? Somehow I’ll get us all out of here.”
Rachel nods back at me, a strangled noise coming from the small hole in her lips. She watches me as I walk up the stairs, until I pass out of her view.
Following the noise of people talking, I make my way into the living room, waiting at the doorway.
“Did Rachel finish her drink?” Papa asks me, his eyes gleaming with malice.
Nodding back, I keep silent, waiting.
“Good,” he replies, a wide grin stretching across his face. Reaching his hand into his pocket, he pulls out a key. Dangling it in the air, he holds it out, then places it in his mouth, grabbing a glass of water on the coffee table beside him to help him swallow it.
His grin grows wider when he catches my flinch. He knows I know what that key was. It’s the one that will open Rachel’s cage.
“You just gave Rachel her last meal,” he states, eyes greedily watching as my face crumbles in horror. “She’s never leaving that cage. And it’s all your fault. I warned you only a few hours ago, Rebecca. I’m very disappointed in you.”
A tear makes its way down my face as I realize that my earlier convictions about him not seriously hurting my sisters was false. I should have believed him, should have followed the rules.
Earl chuckles as he paces the room, gaze flicking between Papa and me, while Momma watches from one of the sofas.
