Don’t Lock Me In Again Novels & Stories

“Because I don’t know if I trust you to fix the right thing.” I went inside and closed the door. This time, I locked it. And for the first time since all of this started, I cried softly. Just enough to remind myself I was still here. *****

I replied quietly. “Say what this really is.” A pause. Longer than usual. Then. “Understanding is earned.” Of course. Always another step. Always another test. Never a straight answer. I exhaled sharply and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind me. This time, I didn’t lock it. I didn’t care anymore. Because locks didn’t mean anything here. Nothing did. I walked back into the main space of my apartment, both phones in my hands now. Mine.

The door was locked. I couldn’t get out. I turned around sharply. "Where am I?" I yanked the handle again anyway, like it might suddenly change its mind. "Please open the door!" My voice cracked. "I need to leave—I need to go to work—please—” “You need to open this door right now!” My voice shook with fear and desperation. "I didn't intend to lock the door, Jem," Dante said calmly. "But Shark warned me you might be difficult to bring here. He suggested I keep the door locked to save myself the stress."

Crack. The sound is small. Sharp. Satisfying. The first lock gives. Pain follows instantly, shooting up my arm. Irrelevant. One down. Two to go. Footsteps echo faintly outside. Not close yet. But coming. They always come back. I don’t rush. Rushing leads to mistakes. And I don’t make those. Not anymore. Not when it comes to her. The second restraint takes longer. Stronger. Better reinforced. I adjust again. Angle.

I used the inheritance my father left me to buy an apartment. My boyfriend, a designer by trade, handled the renovations. It was only after I moved in that I discovered he had registered all three of his childhood friends for permanent fingerprint access. I was the legal owner, and all I had was a temporary passcode. He said, "We all grew up together. They're practically family." Before long, my study had been converted into a livestream studio for one of them. The terrace was covered in their belongings, and the entryway held four matching pairs of house slippers. None of them were mine. On the night of my birthday, I worked overtime until the early hours of the morning. By the time I g

There was no way I was going to let myself be locked up as a prisoner in this Pack. "Ian, leave! Your presence isn't welcomed here right now," Alpha Aaron ordered without breaking eye contact with me. "Alpha Aaron, with all due respect—" "I said leave!." The command in Alpha Aaron’s voice was stern, sending a shiver through my body. Beta Ian snapped his mouth shut, shot me one last murderous glare, and backed out of the room, slamming the heavy wooden door behind him. The silence that followed was suffocating. "I'm sorry about that. Ignore..."

The attending physician approaches with a stun baton. Joseph Stout holds Rebecca Caldwell, the woman he's never gotten over, against his chest. He says, "Lillian, admit you're crazy, and I'll leave Noah alone." Rebecca leans against him with a sweet smile. "Just admit it, Lillian. Joseph is only trying to help you." Joseph looks at me like I'm something he scraped off the bottom of his shoe. "Sign the psychiatric evaluation papers. Don't make me force you." I wipe the sweat from my face and smile at the security camera. "Joseph, did you forget? I still have your company's master key." His expression flickers, but he quickly scoffs. "No one's going to take a lunatic seriously." Right i

It was sharp and unbearable. I didn't know how much time had passed before Jacob finally stepped into the ward and saw me sitting up. "Grace, you're awake. What do you want to eat? I can have the chef make something and send it over." I thought he would feel some guilt after learning what I went through, but he acted like nothing had happened. That was when I broke. "Enough!" "Jacob, wasn't locking me in the basement supposed to teach me obedience? Well, I've learned. I've stopped hoping for your love, so why won't you just let me go?"

Terror surged through me when I realized all this. No. I couldn't be locked up here… I had wanted to finalize the divorce tomorrow… Forcing myself to calm down, I softened my tone and pleaded with Zane. "Fine, I did it. I admit my mistake and swear I'll never try to hurt her again. Can you please let me go?" However, as the words left my lips, the last lock clicked into place. Once Zane was sure I had absolutely no way of escaping, he abruptly threw the keys aside. Then, he cupped my face in his hands. His bloodshot eyes burned with an anger I had never seen in him before.

And why did one careless comment from a security guard still sting so much? By the time I reached our building, the excitement of the date had completely soured into quiet doubt. I reached my door, still replaying the awkward end of our date in my head, and punched in the code. Nothing happened. I tried again. And again. The lock blinked red each time, refusing to open. This had happened once last month, and I’d had to call the security guy to reset it. But after the way he had looked at Viktor and me earlier today, there was no way I was going back to him for help.