by C. R. Jane
He shouldn’t have said that last part, because now all I wanted to do was something stupid. How far would I get if I tried to run away? Probably not far, but at least I could delay the inevitable. Honestly, another stint in the basement I could handle, if it meant that this wouldn’t happen to me so soon. Heck, maybe I would die down there, and I wouldn’t have to worry about it at all.
But I wanted to live. There was a whole life in front of me that I hadn’t lived yet, and even though he owned me, there was still the chance that I would be free someday, free to live a whole life consisting of choices that I made, not someone else.
I was tempted to leave right then, but I didn’t feel like that was wise. No, I would have to go to school today, maybe even for a few days, and try to lull him into a false sense of security that I wasn’t going anywhere.
I drifted through school in a fog; the fact that I had been ahead in my last school and my high IQ were the only reasons that I was able to do any assignments in class. I caught Brandon sending me worried glances in our classes together. I thought he tried to ask what was wrong a few times, but I don’t even know what I answered in response anymore. My mind was occupied with trying to find a way out of this. I didn’t have any cash, but I was sure that I could convince someone to lend me some. And then maybe I could take the Greyhound out of here. Maybe I could go back to Gran, tell her what was going on, and she would stand up for me.
Gran. I would go see her. I would ask Brandon to lend me some money, and I would take the bus back to our house and explain what was going on. Maybe she could talk sense into her son.
Having come up with a tentative plan of action, I was able to talk to Brandon in our last class. I asked him to lend me some money, which he readily handed over without asking me why. Again, I ignored the little flutter of satisfaction I felt over how besotted with me Brandon had become.
He wanted to hang out after school again, but I told him I was going to visit my grandmother who wasn’t feeling well, and I would call him later.
“You would tell me if anything was wrong… right?” he asked me as we stood in front of the school. And for a second, as I stared at his handsome, earnest face, I was tempted to tell him what was going on… even though it all sounded too wild to be true.
I suppressed the urge. “I’m fine. Just going to visit my grandma.” He gave me a gentle kiss that seemed to wage war with the darkness inside of me. But there was nothing he could do to push that darkness back completely. If anything, at the moment, he was serving as a sort of temporary pain killer, albeit one that was only effective when I was with him.
I waved goodbye and set off toward the bus station, which luckily was only a few blocks from the school. There was a black car parked across from the school that had tinted windows. The sight of it gave me the strangest feeling. I wouldn’t put it past my uncle to be watching me these first couple of days, but I didn’t care if he saw me go to Gran’s. The bus ride took two days, giving me plenty of time to think. To think about what I was going to do if she couldn’t help me. My gran was a tough lady. But she hadn’t seemed herself at all when she left me with my uncle.
I got to the Louisiana farmhouse where I had spent the last couple of years with her. There was a mixture of good and bad memories here. I had been in so much pain after my parents had died, that the first year was kind of a shadow in my mind. Gran had let me mourn for a while, and then she had decided that it was time for me to start living again. Her way of helping me to move past the tragedy of losing my parents had not involved hugs and kisses. Maybe it should have been a clue into our family’s propensity for cons, but Gran was all about the card games.
The night she had decided that it was time for me to get out of my funk, she had dragged me to her favorite diner and forced me to eat the biggest, greasiest burger that I had ever seen. After a year of barely eating, it had tasted delicious, and not even the stomachache afterward made me regret it. I had almost forgotten my mother’s grilled chicken. Almost.
After we had gone back to the house, Gran had set me down at the table and thrown a stack of playing cards in front of me. I stared at her incredulously, wondering how it was possible for her to want to play games after her son had died. Shouldn’t she be mourning every second of every day for the rest of her existence? Shouldn’t she be constantly crying? Unable to function? I was a bit of a drama queen back then. It was before the basement. Funny how I could think of life like that now. Before and after the basement.
“I’m going to teach you to count cards,” she said.
“Why would I want to do that?” I asked, perplexed.
“Because, my girl, you can’t keep this up. I’m not an educated woman, but I do know my way around a card game. And if you’re counting cards, you can’t concentrate on anything else.”
The only reference I had for “counting cards” were movies I had seen in the past. They always happened in seedy Vegas casinos and ended with the person counting cards being hauled out in cuffs. I didn’t think I was up for that, but the idea of counting cards was interesting.
“Okay,” I said slowly. And we began. Gran wasn’t a patient teacher, but she pushed and she pushed until I could count cards in my sleep.
“A pretty girl like you, they’ll never see it coming,” she crowed proudly.
I found out later that Gran had a bit of a gambling problem. That was how I ended up with my uncle after all. A debt that no matter how many games she entered, or how many games she entered me in, she couldn’t get out of. Of course, he would have gotten me eventually. It had always been his plan, ever since he’d seen my violet eyes.
I shook myself out of my trip down memory lane and walked to the door, knocking three times. It felt awkward to have to knock at a place that was my home for so many years.
It took a minute, but Gran finally answered. It was as if she had aged ten years since the last time I had seen her. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her usually kept up hair was grayer and all over the place.
She seemed surprised to see me. Surprised, and then scared.
“Holly, what are you doing here?” she said worriedly, her eyes darting around behind me as if she expected to see someone, probably my uncle, pop out at any moment.
This was not off to a good start.
I thought I would ask her for help right away, but instead, I found myself wanting to know if she knew just how terrible he was when she left me there.
“Did you know he was a monster when you left me there? Did you know what he would do to me or want me to do?” I gasped out.
Shame crossed her face, a look she quickly hid.
“Get in here, girl,” she ordered me, not answering my question. I followed her inside, seeing that the house was a mess. Gran had never been the best housekeeper, but between the two of us, we had always managed to keep the place relatively tidy. Now, there were dishes stacked in the sink, the trash was overflowing; it was like she had left everything where she had dropped it, since the floor was covered with odds and ends.
It was a strange thing, the idea of returning home. How did the place you called home stop feeling like home? When did that happen? Because Gran’s house felt like a stranger’s.
I stopped scanning the house and turned my attention back to Gran. She was staring at me, that same tired, worried look that had been present from the beginning, wringing her hands. She wasn’t going to help me. But I still felt like I should ask her.
“He wants to sell me to some rich prick in London that wants to take my virginity,” I said bluntly, and her eyes widened.
“Oh, Holly,” she whispered. Her voice was even hoarser than usual, like she had smoked two packs of cigarettes a day lately, instead of the one that she usually did.
“You’re not going to help me, are you?” I asked in a dead-sounding voice.
“I don’t know how to help you, child,” she said, and she seemed so frail in that moment, that despite how awful the situation was and how mad I was at
her, I wanted to give her a hug.
Gran gestured for me to sit at the kitchen table and set a plate of brownies in front of me that I shrank from. I didn’t think I was ever going to be able to eat brownies again. She noticed my facial expression and sighed. “He still has a sweet addiction, doesn’t he?” She grabbed the plate and put it out of sight on the counter.
She sat back down. “You’re going to have to go back. And honestly, it’s best if I don’t take you, and it’s even better if he doesn’t have to come here and drag you away.”
“I don’t understand. Can’t we call the police? Can’t we do something? What does he have over you? Was I that difficult to have around the house?” I exploded.
She closed her eyes, and I was once again struck at how frail she’d become. Since I’d come to her, Gran had always been this towering pillar of strength for me. It seemed like since I’d been gone, all of that strength had disappeared.
“The police won’t do nothing. Government officials won’t do nothing. He owns them all. There’s literally no one that can help you.”
I thought about my uncle, sitting at that playing table in that nondescript house. There was no sign of anything out of the ordinary. In fact, the whole house could use an update, just to get it up to present-day standards. How was it that someone who looked like that, who lived like that, could be so all-powerful?
“What is it that he has on you? His mother,” I said, stating the obvious. Gran seemed ashamed in that moment.
“I had a debt, a debt that I haven’t been able to pay.”
I stared incredulously. “What about all those games that I won? That was over a hundred thousand dollars.”
If it was possible, Gran’s demeanor got even worse.
“I had lost some games recently,” she said. “One of the games that I lost really big happened to be organized by your uncle. I never would have participated in it if I’d known. When he found out that I owed seventy-five thousand dollars in that game, he went after more. He bought all of my other debts until I owed five-hundred thousand. Apparently, he saw a picture of you when he came to talk to me about it, and that was all it took. He came to collect on it that next day.”
Five-hundred thousand dollars. That was what my life amounted to. I almost told her about his visit to my parents, that I was sure he’d wanted me longer than that.
“Oh, get over yourself, child,” Gran said, but there wasn’t any real vehemence in her voice. Still, it was enough to silence me.
We sat in silence for a moment. It never used to be awkward between Gran and me, but whatever easiness had been between us was gone, just like the future I might have been able to have if I’d stayed in this farmhouse.
“At least you have a roof over your head and food to eat,” Gran said hollowly.
We snorted after she said that, both knowing that there were worse things in the world than hunger.
Gran’s phone vibrated, and I knew it was him. She eyed the phone like it was a snake that was about to bite her, but she reluctantly picked it up after it kept ringing.
“Hello,” she said, sounding resigned. “Yes, she’s here,” she responded, eyeing me. And even though she’d already told me I needed to go back, part of me still felt betrayed by how easily the words seemed to come out of her mouth. “I’m going to get her something to eat, and then I’ll send her on her way,” Gran continued. I could hear my uncle yelling, obviously unhappy with the delay. “I said I would bring her back after I feed her,” Gran said furiously, hanging up and throwing her phone down on the table. She put her face in her hands and took a deep sigh.
When she lifted her head up, her face was void of all emotion. “Well, let’s get going,” she announced, standing up a bit unsteadily.
“I’m not feeling hungry,” I spit at her spitefully. But she wasn’t having it.
“Get up, we’re going,” she barked, and I decided that delaying my return to my uncle’s house of horrors wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
We walked outside to her ancient Ford truck, and Gran seemed to get more and more unsteady as we went.
“Are you okay?” I asked, putting my hand on her back to help her walk, my concern over her weak appearance outweighing my fury.
She waved her hand. “Don’t worry about me. I had a cold last week. It’s not a problem.” She put her hands on her hips in the way she always did before she got ready to tell a joke. “Let me guess? You want to go eat salad.”
I blinked, almost immediately knowing what she played at. “Yep. Totally a salad. And yogurt. And cottage cheese.”
I could have told her how strange the eating was at his house. How sometimes he made me watch every calorie, every carb that I ate. I counted protein. Worried about whether or not the things I ate would make my skin ugly. And then other times, he loaded me up with so much sugar, I was half-convinced he’d never seen anything that wasn’t junk food. It never made any sense. But then, little did anymore.
“You know I can never let you have what you want.” She winked at me. “We just must have hamburgers.”
My stomach growled at the thought, and even the idea of the burger gave me strength. I wasn’t done yet. Maybe, over the greasy goodness, I could convince her to change her mind. She’d remember how much she loved having me around. She’d want me with her. We could go on the road together.
There was still hope.
My good mood lasted all the way to the diner. I practically hummed to myself with glee about what I was going to eat. Uncle might love his brownies, but I adored a well-cooked burger and fries. We all had our vices. I just preferred mine to his. Actually, I hated everything he liked. If he picked up a love for burgers, I’d quit eating them.
I’d become a vegan, and if he decided that lifestyle suited him, I’d start eating meat again immediately.
Arriving at the diner cut off my joy and my rant. We were here. I had to pull it together and get her to do what I wanted.
We went inside, and the waitress, Mary, greeted me with a hug. She’d always been super sweet.
“How is your daughter?” I smiled politely at Mary as we sat down. There was a purpose to this small talk. Gran just needed to remember. She loved me, she loved having me around. I was a pleasure, not a burden. Maybe I wasn’t any of those things, but for tonight, I was going to convince her that I was. The townspeople loved me. She’d see.
I let her talk for ten minutes. Gran was unusually quiet, but maybe she didn’t have much to say about Mary’s daughter, Patty, falling in love with the man who used to be married to Bev, who cut hair next door. Maybe she was noticing how good at this I was.
When Mary left to deliver our order to the kitchen, I grinned at my grandmother. “Thanks for this food. I have missed it here so much.”
She made a face and then took a sip of her water. I regarded her for a long moment. She was sweating. I glanced around. It was actually kind of cool in the restaurant. I didn’t feel hot, and I was always the first person to feel hot. It was in my nature or something.
“Are you okay?” I asked her as she took a second sip of her water. Why was she drinking water? Gran was a Coke drinker. It was that or whiskey.
She nodded as she rubbed the back of her neck. “I feel a little off.”
“How long ago did you have that cold?” She needed to go to the doctor. “I wish I was here to help you. If I was here, I could help more. Just sayin’.”
Gran shivered once, violently, before she jumped to her feet. Holding onto her left arm for a second, she met my gaze before she fell, first to her knees, and then face planted onto the ground.
I heard myself screaming, but it almost felt like someone else was doing it. People came running. Mary. Luke, the cook from the kitchen, people were yelling. Someone squeezed my arms. What was happening? What was happening?
“Gran,” I said, but she didn’t respond. Someone had rolled her over. Why couldn’t I think? Why couldn’t I…
Mary was pale, her eyes huge as she s
tared at me. Leaning over Gran, she reached for my hand. “She’s dead, sweetheart.”
If anyone had asked, I’m not sure I could have explained what happened to me next. It was like… something died inside of me. Maybe it should have a long time earlier. Maybe it should have perished when my parents died leaving no will, with no regard for what happened to me. Maybe it should have ended the day Uncle locked me in that basement and changed the course of my whole life.
But whatever it was that should have killed my soul earlier, didn’t. No. It waited until then. While I stared at the dead body of my gran on the ground of the diner, the smell of french fries burning in the air, a crying cashier behind me. The Holland I had been, died.
And I was born in her stead.
Sell my virginity? Sure. I could do that.
Hurt Brandon? Okay.
Give up any hope that there could ever be anything else? Yep.
That’s what I did.
Hours later, after a slow moving ambulance meandered its way into town and officially declared her dead, I called Him. What else was I going to do? I had no home anymore, except the one that he gave me. I was his to own, his to use. I would obey him.
That was my role in life.
Chapter 14
Jamie
Now
I ordered her a burger. A greasy, clog your arteries burger, a vanilla milkshake, and a large fry. I hadn’t eaten many of these since she’d left. Hell, I’d practically been a vegan. Only giving in that one time with Graham. Except for alcohol. I’d been drinking that with impunity and not given a shit about whether or not it was vegan-friendly. I’d not consciously switched to eating like that anyway. Just as kind of an internal rebellion to losing Holland.
That had been… incredible between us. The best ever, maybe. She’d always held back, but that time she hadn’t. That was Holland as she really was. I knew just how fucked up she was this time, and I wanted her anyway.