by Dori Lavelle
He comes to give me a kiss on the lips and tips my head back to look into my eyes, which are tearing up from the smoke.
“This is how some villagers do it in Africa, cooking over an open fire. The food actually tastes so much better.” He’s looking at me, but he has a faraway expression on his face now. “I should take you to Africa one day. You will love it.” He steps away from me but doesn’t stop talking.
My attention has drifted from him. I’m distracted by the sounds of the chickens scratching the ground. I cannot see them, but they have to be nearby, in their coop perhaps.
“It’s so peaceful out here.” He tilts his head back and looks up at the dark sky. “Who needs the city?” He goes on and on, but I’m grateful that this time he doesn’t demand answers from me. He’s completely lost in the perfect world he has built for himself.
My stomach rumbles when the meat finally releases its delicious aromas. It feels like hours until he finishes cooking and comes to me with a steaming bowl. Instead of removing the handcuffs, he feeds me himself. I eat up every bite he offers me. The food is not nearly enough, but I’m afraid to ask for more.
My mouth is still watering when he brings his own chair next to mine and sits to eat his own food, while telling me more stories about Africa, especially how he had enjoyed spending a few weeks in an Angolan village.
“I also met some stunning women over there.” His voice trails off. “One in particular caught my attention. She was a beauty, but she turned out to be a whore. Like all the rest, she betrayed me. And she paid a high price.”
“You—”
“Yes, I did. I drowned her in the village lake.” He pulls in a breath. “I don’t handle betrayal well. You know that, right?”
Chilled by his confession, I nod.
“Great.” He gets up without offering me any more food. “Time to move on.” He removes the handcuff bracelet from the pole but doesn’t open the one around my wrist. He holds my hand as we enter the house. “There’s something special I want you to see. A special room just for you.”
During the walk down the hallway, my stomach clenches tighter, the food I ate earlier souring. I’m still haunted by what he told me about the woman he killed in Africa, and I dread to think about what he has in store for me. His surprises are never pleasant.
He brings me to a halt in front of a closed door. “Ready?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. He unlocks the door and swings it open.
I stand in the doorway looking into a pitch-black room. It must not have any windows. I hope he won’t ask me to enter.
“It’s okay,” he says into my ear. “You can go in.” He plants a hand on the middle of my back and leads me inside. Bright light replaces the darkness.
At the sight before me, I let out a scream. I try to run back out, but he grabs me and shuts the door.
“What’s wrong?” He smiles. “Don’t ruin the fun. I’ve spent so much time and money preparing this room for you. I couldn’t wait for you to see it.”
I’m jumping from foot to foot, the hairs at the nape of my neck rising as I gaze down at the floor. It’s made completely of glass with snakes of all shapes and sizes slithering underneath it. I knew I wouldn’t like his surprise, but never in a million years had I expected this. Being barefoot makes the nasty experience so much worse. It feels as though the snakes are actually touching the soles of my feet.
“Please, get me out of here.” I curl my clammy hands into a fist, trying my best to hold it together. But I’m too terrified of snakes to keep calm.
I run to the door again, but he grabs me by the arm and pushes me close to the center of the room. I lose my balance and fall to the floor. I barely touch the glass before he yanks me back to my feet.
“You’re not going anywhere.” He pushes his hands into his pockets and studies the floor. “These are our babies. They’re some of the deadliest snakes in the world. Some are actually illegal to own in this country.” He shrugs. “But no one stops me from getting what I want.”
I try to stand on tiptoes, so my entire feet don’t touch the floor, but I can’t find my balance.
“Don’t worry,” he says. “They won’t harm you. Not unless the glass is broken.”
A large yellow snake slithers to where I’m standing. In reaction, my stomach contracts and saliva fills my mouth. Bile follows in such a rush that I’m unable to hold it back. It explodes from me before I can stop it.
“You have to clean that mess up,” he says and comes to wipe my mouth with my nightdress. “As I was saying, anyone in this room is safe as long as the glass is intact.”
He points to the door. “Outside is a switch. Once I push it, a part of the floor will slide away creating an opening for the snakes to get out. One bite from one of them can be deadly.” He comes to me, holds my shaking body tight in his arms. “When you misbehave, I’ll bring you here to spend a little time with our babies. Is that what you want?”
“No,” I say quickly. Tears flood my eyes. “Please, let me out.”
He lets me go and my gaze drops to the floor again. The snakes don’t even need to touch me. The sight of them is enough to terrify me.
“Snakes are actually beautiful creatures. They only attack when they feel threatened. As long as they’re under there, you’re safe. Don’t make me change that. Don’t forget that we’re alone here, and I have the right to end your life if I choose.” With those words of warning, he finally takes me out of the room. But not for long.
He brings me back a few minutes later with a bucket of water.
He points to my vomit. “Clean that up.”
It’s pure torture to clean the floor as it brings me so close to the snakes. I’ve never cleaned anything so fast in my life. I almost cry out with relief when we’re outside again.
I’m still panting with fear when he takes me to the bedroom and gives me something else to wear, a black, shapeless dress that must have belonged to someone who lived here. To me, it’s perfect as it covers my body well. Next, he removes my handcuffs and massages my wrists. The discomfort remains.
“I love you, Emma. All the things I did wouldn’t have happened if you believed that. You make it so hard to love you sometimes. But I won’t stop. I know deep down in your heart, you love me just as much.”
I want to burst his bubble, to remind him that my love for him is dead. But an image of the snakes comes to mind and stops me in my tracks.
“I want you to say it.” He continues to massage my wrist “Tell me you love me, baby.”
If I don’t want to be thrown into the dungeon, I have to say it. I have to lie. “I. . . I love you,” I say in a shrill voice.
“Say, I love you, Dax.”
“I love you, Dax.” The words tremble out of my mouth, breaking through my lips. If he’s too blind to see I’m lying, it’s his own damn fault.
“Good.” He lays me down on the bed and rests a hand on my cheek, makes me look at him. “I’m sorry about all the hard work. After tomorrow, everything will be different, okay? I’m getting you someone to help you out.”
“Someone?” I didn’t mean to say the word out loud.
“A maid.” His face brightens. “You’ll have your own personal maid. It’s my gift to you. That’s how much I love you.”
Even though it’s a relief to be getting help, I’m terrified for the person who’s coming to work for him. On the other hand, maybe it’s someone I can work with, someone who might help me escape. Hopefully, I won’t be getting another person like Otto.
Since Dax still doesn’t try to make love to me, I close my eyes. Tonight, I dream of myself in Curtis’s arms.
Chapter Five
I open my eyes to the choppy sound of a plane in flight. Bitter memories from the Black Mamba flood my mind and my entire body locks with tension. After a few calming breaths, I find the courage to look at my worst nightmare.
He’s standing by the window, his back straight as he gazes out. Perhaps sensing I’m watching him, he turns arou
nd slowly. The smile on his face is the kind he pastes on when he’s about to inflict more pain.
His beige t-shirt is rumpled, his hair and beard unkempt, but his amber eyes are glowing. Every nerve in my body tells me I don’t want to know what he has in store for me today.
“Today will be unforgettable.” He rushes to the bed and kisses me hard on the lips. “You know how I love surprising you.”
His words send shivers of fear down my spine.
I can’t find anything to say as I watch him bouncing around the room, unable to contain his excitement. He visibly vibrates with energy. “I should go. Your surprise has arrived.” He comes to handcuff me to the bed. “I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere.”
He’s full of shit. Where would I go handcuffed to the bed?
He crosses the room to get to the door. Once there, he turns to blow me a kiss. “You’ll love it. I promise.”
When he’s gone, I try to force my hand out of the handcuff, but of course, I don’t have a chance against the steel closed tightly around my wrist.
Just as I’m making myself comfortable in the bed, Dax returns again to lock the windows, even though there’s no chance I could get through the bars.
He blows me another kiss and disappears, but I can still feel his presence in the room, so thick as if he were still there.
The sound of his footsteps fades as he makes his way down the hallway. A door, I guess the front door, slams soon after.
When I hear the truck roaring to life, air explodes from my lungs in a gasp.
Blocking my mind from thinking about what surprise he has for me, I try again to pull my hand out of the handcuffs. I know it’s a losing game, but that doesn’t stop me. After a few tries, I quit because it hurts too much.
I let out a bitter laugh. I’m as paranoid as he is. Even if I were not handcuffed to the bed, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. I’m chained to him in more ways than one and it terrifies the hell out of me.
I blow out a breath and force my hands to stay still. They’re shaking so hard, the handcuffs rattle against the wood.
It’s okay, Emma. You will be fine. This is not how your story will end.
I say the words to myself over and over again, until I feel like a broken record. Maybe if I say it often enough, it will turn out to be true. I don’t even want to consider the alternative.
It will be okay one way or the other. There are two options. Either I’ll be dead and unable to hurt anymore, or I’ll find a way out.
The longer Dax is away, the more nervous I become, sweat pouring down my temples.
I’m sitting on the edge of the bed now, my right arm pulled towards the headboard and my feet tapping the wooden floor impatiently. I’m not ready for whatever he wants to surprise me with, but not knowing is just as terrifying, if not more so.
Finally, my ears catch the rumble of the truck drawing closer to the house. My pulse starts to race. My toes curl to grip the floor tighter as if it can save me, as if anything or anyone can save me. I wish I could escape this moment, just disappear into thin air like in the fairytales my mother used to read to us when we were kids.
I would have loved to see the look on his face if he were to enter the room and find me gone. But that will never happen. I’ll be right here where he left me.
My ears strain to listen to the sound of the front door opening and closing, the sound of his voice, the thud of his footsteps. It’s hard to hear much through the rush of fear in my ears. But I catch the noise made by a chair scraping the floor. I know it’s coming from the kitchen.
After what feels like forever, he shows up in the room, looking as smug as he had been earlier. “Did you miss me?” He pulls a long, red cloth from his pocket. “I sure did miss you. A few minutes away from you feel like an eternity.” He grabs the ends of the cloth and pulls it straight with a snap. “It’s time for you to meet your surprise.” He comes to sit next to me.
“What are you doing?” I ask, trying to stop him from tying the cloth around my eyes.
I swallow hard when he slides it around my neck instead. “Would you rather I tie it here?” He forms a quick knot behind my neck and pulls.
“No,” I cry out and he releases immediately. Tears of relief spring to my eyes. I don’t try to stop him again.
“Hey, you don’t have to be afraid,” he says. “I want to surprise you, that’s all. It will all be worth it, trust me.”
When he’s done blindfolding me, he removes the handcuffs, but only for him to bring both my hands in front of me. He cuffs both wrists together. “You look so sexy with handcuffs on.”
On shaky legs, I allow him to guide me out of the room, his arm around my shoulders.
A few awkward steps later, he pulls me to a stop. The door creaks as he opens it. He nudges me forward.
I freeze when I hear labored breathing and moaning. My nerves tense up.
“Are you ready for your surprise?” There’s a trace of laughter in his voice.
I nod, knowing that’s what he expects. The beads of sweat on my forehead are proof that I’m not ready.
He pulls me to his body, holds me in place, and removes the blindfold.
When I recognize the woman in front of me, blood drains from my face. “No,” I say in a strangled voice. “Oh God, not Christa.” My hands curl up into fists. “Not my sister.”
“See,” he says, holding me tight so I don’t faint. He brings his mouth to my ear. “I told you this will be the best surprise ever.”
This is the most disgusting surprise he has ever given me.
The sight of my sister makes me sick. In addition to being blindfolded, with a piece of cloth that looks exactly like the one that had been around my eyes, her mouth is taped shut. Her head is moving from side to side as she tries but fails to remove the gray tape from her lips.
What’s even more humiliating is what she’s wearing. Aside from one of the aprons she used to wear in the kitchen of the Baroque Hotel and Spa, she’s completely naked. The sides of her breasts spill from the sides of the apron. I can’t even imagine how humiliated she feels right now.
As though I also have tape around my mouth, I’m speechless. But I try to speak until I succeed. “Don’t, Dax.” My wet eyes plead with him not to hurt her. I can’t allow my sister to suffer the same fate I’ve been dealt. He can’t kill us both.
“Don’t what?” Dax lets me go and goes to remove the blindfold from Christa’s eyes.
Her wild, terrified eyes are red and puffy, black mascara smeared around them.
Before I can stop myself, I rush to her side, my knees hitting the floor at her feet. Dax gets to me before I can make contact with her. He yanks me to my feet so fast my blood rushes to my head. “Don’t touch her,” he warns, his mouth pressed to my ear. “She’s only here to be your maid. I won’t approve of my wife mingling with the servants.”
I scream then, throwing curses at him as I struggle for him to let me go. “Fuck you. She’s my sister.”
“Not anymore.” He tightens his grip around me and presses his hand to my mouth, shutting me up. “You should be thankful she’s still alive. I could’ve asked one of my people to kill her. Would you have preferred her as a corpse?”
When I still don’t quit fighting him, he grabs the back of my neck and sends me crashing into the kitchen table, a few inches from where Christa is seated. The edge of the table knocks the air from my lungs. I fall to the ground in a heap, whimpering.
Christa is struggling, trying to free herself, but her hands are handcuffed around the back of the chair.
Tears rolling down my cheeks, I turn to look up into his eyes “I’m begging you. Please, don’t hurt her. Let her go. I don’t. . . I don’t need a maid.”
“Bullshit. Have you seen your hands? After all the work you did, they look like crap. You need help and I’m giving it to you.”
“Get me someone else. Anyone.”
“That’s not going to happen.” He goes to the fridge and pours himself a
glass of water, which he drains in one gulp.
My frantic gaze moves back to Christa. Her head is resting on her shoulder now. Her hair is bald in places. Is it due to the chemo or did he do a bad job at shaving her, or getting someone to do it?
How could he do that? Being away from home and her medical treatments could be dangerous. There’s only one explanation. He wants her to die out here, with me.
“I’ll do anything.” I bring my hands together. “Just let her go.”
“The only thing I want you to do is act like a proper wife. She’s not going anywhere. If I were you, I’d stop begging. It makes you look pathetic.”
“You’re an asshole,” I scream out, blinded by rage.
This time he doesn’t respond in words. His hand meets my cheek so hard my head threatens to explode. “Don’t make me remind you of what I’m capable of.” He grinds the words out between his teeth. “I have only a few rules and you will follow them, both of you.”
Chapter Six
He pushes his hands into his pockets and lets out a harsh breath. “The rules are simple, but once they’re broken, the consequences are unbearable. I’ll say this once and I never want to repeat myself again.” He points at Christa. “That woman over there, is no longer your sister. She’s here to work, and that’s it. She’s nothing but a maid. You will not, under any circumstances, offer to help her do her job, nor will you be allowed to speak to her.”
“I can do the work myself.” I know I’m walking on dangerous ground, but how can I sit back and do nothing, say nothing?
“Don’t test my patience, Emma.” He folds his arms in front of his chest. “I know you can do the damn job, but I don’t want you to. You are my wife. And frankly, I’m surprised at your reaction. Would you have preferred to have a stranger helping you?”
Yes, I want to say, but I don’t dare. It would have been much easier for me to watch a stranger suffer instead of my own sister—my sick sister.