7
“Ten years,” that’s the greeting I get from my father as he steps foot into my little cube of a bedroom, “Ten years I’ve known that man. Do you understand how hard it is in this way of life to have someone like him stay loyal to you for so long?”
After he came to my room earlier, throwing around his air of menace, he didn’t act on it. He promised to show me some manners and never delivered.
I stand from the cot, holding in the wince that wants to give me away as my body twinges in pain. I was weak, that much was obvious, we both knew it but showing that weakness, that vulnerability was another thing.
I had no idea what he was talking about and wasn’t going to ask.
He stands in the doorway, a menacing shape blocking my escape but I can see into the hall beyond him.
What I failed to notice before was the door opposite my room, no doubt the same door that’s repeated all the way down this hall. They look to be originally painted green but with age, they have deteriorated and now rust spots and peeling paint make up their exterior, an ugly shell to hide an even uglier interior.
My father, Marcus Valentine was a trafficker. Amongst other things.
I wonder idly, as we stand face to face, the air between us sizzling with suppressed rage and fury whether we could have ever had a connection.
I mean, at the end of the day, this man is a part of me. His darkness is in me one way or another, but I don’t look at him like I want him as a dad.
Benjamin Lawson was my father. He raised me. Granted, he wasn’t much of a father either and tried to kill me, but he was still more of a father than this man would ever be.
Did I regret it?
Not even a little.
I wanted nothing to do with this man.
This monster.
“Restrain her,” Marcus says, jerking his chin towards me.
Two men enter the room, holding heavy set chains as they advance towards me.
“What?” I say, “Afraid I might hurt you?” My voice rings with all the confidence I don’t have, but my body gives me away as I start to back up, the edge of the cot hitting the backs of my knees.
He laughs, “Oh daughter of mine, you don’t scare me. This is so you don’t move too much. That’ll take away from the fun.”
My nostrils flare as a healthy dose of fear injects itself into my bloodstream. I can’t show him that weakness, I can’t show him how much he terrifies me.
There’s no hope of fighting them off, no hope of winning any battle with them as they wrap those chains around my wrists tightly, the metal cutting into the skin and drag me towards the wall next to the bed. They link the chains to the steel hoops I failed to notice in the walls, pulling them tight so my arms are stretched out at my sides and on my knees, my face pressed to the damp wall.
I’m not able to control my breathing, I can’t stop the frantic way my heart pummels inside my chest, beating against the walls of my ribcage, so hard I wonder if it’s possible for it break through the bone.
I pull at the restraints, hearing the metal clang loudly, the sound mingling with the footsteps drawing closer. Measured. Leisurely.
“Ten,” Marcus muses.
I finally give, “What are you talking about?”
“Alexander Silver wants you back,” he answers.
Lex.My monster.
I say nothing as I laugh though nothing is funny.
“If Lex wants me back,Valentine,” I spit the name as if it doesn’t belong to me too, “You best give me to him.”
“He’s not in control anymore.”