I wake up in my apartment. Groaning, I go to move, finding my hands tied to the radiator. My face hurts a lot. I pull against the rope, but it doesn't seem to want to give away or break.
"Trix, you're awake." I hear Paul and freeze.
"Last time you ran, this time, I won't give you a chance. Hence the rope."
I ignore his words and keep pulling. The rope is burning against my wrists.
"I can see you're not ready to talk. That's fine, Trix. Maybe later you will talk after another nap." I look at him confused, his hand holding a cloth.
"Don't, I will talk. Just don't." I don't like it. When he uses that to make me pass out, I have no idea what happened while I was asleep.
"Now you're listening." I watch as he sits on the bed and faces me. "You want freedom, right, Trix?" He looks at me, and I nod.
"Yes!"
"So, let's make a deal. You behave, for say four months. I will let you get a job."
"Four months?" I won't make it
I have watched as yet another month passes. Paul has barely spoken about me getting a job. I wonder if he will allow it? He seems quiet, almost like he is rethinking his plan. I do my best to act like the perfect girlfriend. I cook his meals, clean the apartment. Do everything he says and follow his orders as soon as he says them. I'm lucky I know him, know what he expects. It means when we talk, my mind is quick to tell me what to say. The things that make him smile and feel safer. Like I won't run, but I will. I will be running. I've watched him the entire month. The baby, to him, is money. I've listened to his calls, to him finding someone who would buy the baby. It just confirms I need to escape sooner rather than later. I can't let him sell the baby, so even if I struggle to get free, I will find a way to make sure the baby is safe. He wants money, an idea comes. An idea which might mean if I can't escape before I have the baby, we keep i
I don’t sleep well at all. I continue to fight against the rope, but all it does is cause me to scream as it pulls on my wrist. My neck is bleeding, so I spent my time leaning forward to remove some of the tension. Unfortunately, if I sit up straight, the spikes dig in deeper. I hear him moving all day. He hasn’t given me a drink, nothing. I watch the clock, hours passing, and the more time that passes, the more I consider just standing, even if it rips my neck open and kills me. It will be a quicker death than they will give me. Then, I look down at my stomach and feel like fighting. Fighting, though, won’t work. I can’t fight that many men. I can’t escape them all. I have no escape. If I survive today, we move. Then what? Depending on where it is, if I scream and make noise, people might care. Here, no one does. I hear the door and watch as he walks in with a knife. My body freezes. He’s going to kill me. I watch as he walks to me and kneels ahead o
I have spent the week asleep. I’ve barely left the bedroom. Damon keeps sleeping on the chair. I’m not sure if he is staying away because he is worried about how it will affect me or if he isn’t ready to let me in yet. I have slept a lot. In between it, I have eaten and drank water. Trying to gain back my strength. Every time I get in the bath, I avoid the mirror. I still feel the cuts and bruises. I had to laugh at that. I refused not to bathe, so Damon got a stand in it. Now when I am in the bath, my leg can stay raised above the water. The cast is staying dry. It’s awkward, especially with my stomach, but it’s better than nothing. I haven’t really seen my dad. I have heard him. I have heard Damon telling him repeatedly that I am asleep, tired or worn out and need my rest. I’m grateful for that. My dad won’t understand, and I know I need to see him. He will be angry. I kept everything a secret, though. I get dressed and use the crutches to walk out. I don’t
I wake to feel Damon still wrapped around me. It's comforting, but I still feel like running to save him and everyone else. "Baby girl, you need to leave the house today." I hear his words and freeze. "Look at me." His hand grips my chin and forces me to look at him. "I-" His hand covers my mouth. "You need checking by a doctor, in a place. You need a scan for the baby. You told us you haven't seen a doctor once. You could have low iron or any number of things. So, it may be harsh, it may be cruel. But snap out of this trance, think about the baby, then when we get back, you can hibernate until you go into labour if you must." His words aren't cruel. Straight forward and blunt, but I can see his worry, so I nod and agree. I watch as he relaxes when I agree. His lips press against mine. "I can't wait to get these off." I wave my hand with the case, and he laughs. "You were told six to eight weeks. Luckily, they weren't f
I look at Damon and wait for him to tell me where we're going, but he doesn't. After so long, he stops outside some shops and pretty much just drags me along with him. "What are we doing, Daddy?" I question, but he ignores. "Okay, so you're not even going to tell me?" I continue to waddle beside him, but his silence is making me nervous. "Okay, so apparently, daddy would suit being a slave and a pup. He is good at staying silent." That stops him. My smile widens, and his eyes look at me, shocked. "I dare you to do it, daddy." I smile, feeling excited just seeing him as him. "Not happening. Come on, just let it be a surprise, please." He looks at me, waiting, and I nod. We walk, and a few minutes later, we're walking into a shop. I wasn't even paying attention to things, so I had no idea what it was until we were inside. I look at the walls and see houses. Is he seriously planning to buy a house? "Daddy, what are we doing here?"
The house looks fantastic. I stand outside, looking at it. It will take some getting used to if we pick it. I'm used to my tiny apartment. Even Damon's place isn't this big. "So, outside, baby girl?" Damon looks at me. "So far, so good, daddy. It looks beautiful." The garden is lovely, just flowers and grass. I like that there are no neighbours. None close by anyway, we can see their houses, but it still gives us privacy. We walk in, and I stop. "Maybe a bit too big?" I turn to Damon. The entrance is huge. "You can park a car in here." I laugh, and he nods. "Never too big, baby girl. Come on." The woman walks us around, and I watch as Damon admires the kitchen. The frickin kitchen of all places! I laugh because, well, to me, I would be happy with any kitchen. We both have our own ideas of what is suitable, or at least what we can live with. I could live with a crappy half-installed kitchen. A bathroom without a shower. He clearly can't
I am sitting, watching him make us a drink. He walks back over and sits, handing it to me. I'm nervous and on edge. "Just say it, please, as it's freaking me out now." "Baby girl, calm down. It was your dad." I look at him. My dad called him? "Don't go getting angry and screaming at me for not letting you talk to him. Just listen, please. His solicitor will be here tomorrow to sign everything over to you. He will discuss the case with you then as well. Your dad was stubborn, but he agreed to see you, baby girl. I didn't tell him anything about the baby. I thought you should in person, hence he agreed because I refused." "So, I can see him?" I feel the tears fill my eyes. "Tomorrow. His solicitor is coming early, then we go to see him. There is something else, which he told me not to tell you, but I have to baby girl." The way he says that has me crawling inside myself as it doesn't sound good. "Stop freaking out
The solicitor went well. He had me sign to move everything of my dads into my name. I wanted to refuse but, I know my dad would be hurt and upset, especially if his club goes to the wrong person. He seems confident he can get my dad out, although I hold back the hope. I don't want to be assuming he will then him not. "Right, are you ready to leave, baby girl?" Damon looks at me. "Yes, but we need to make a stop on the way, daddy." "Okay, where?" He looks at me as we walk to the car. "A baby shop, I need to grab something. We have a two-hour drive. So just do it, daddy." I smile, and he nods. "Okay, I won't even ask. These are yours, though." I watch as he hands me a phone and purse. "New cards and bank accounts were opened. I sorted out the new phone as well." I take them, and we get into the car. "All your dad’s money and stuff are now in your account as well, baby girl, and I know you will refuse to spend it, but your