Silent Daughter 2: Bound
Page 7
I sure as hell hope she won't come up with the idea of breaking the glass and climbing out the window. A fall from the third floor would not end well for her.
I am so preoccupied with thoughts of her locked up alone in my house that I almost miss the exit that leads up to William's house. It is only a twenty-minute drive, but right now every minute feels as long as an hour, and I am pretty sure that it won't get better once I am in there and have to conduct small talk with a bunch of people I don't care for but need for my reputation.
William and his wife greet me at the door and led me inside their luxurious home that is even bigger and more lavishly decorated than that of the Barrington family, let alone my mansion. I am the last person to arrive. The circle of people who were invited to this is rather small compared to the event of last week. I have seen most of the faces before but I’m a little shaken when I recognize two of them.
"You remember my son, Pete," Will says as we approach his young heir. "And his fiancée, Sandria."
"Sure, I do," I say, smiling at them politely as I shake their hands. "A pleasure to see you again."
Sandria, Liz's sister, casts me a quick smile, but her face soon turns back to an empty expression. She looks bored and apathetic, almost annoyed.
I look at Pete, who wraps his arm around her and nods at me apologetically.
"Please excuse my fiancée today, her family is going through... something," he tries to explain.
Sandria shakes her head. "It's quite alright—you don't have to tell everybody."
My pulse races. I try to appear clueless and calm while casting her a questioning look.
"I am sorry to hear that," I say. "What seems to be the trouble?"
She looks up at me with her hollow eyes. It is eerie how her facial features are so similar to Liz's, but so different at the same time.
"My sister," she says. "My younger sister, Elizabeth. She took off... She has been missing since Friday, and we have no idea where she is."
"She took off?" I ask.
I realize that this is a good opportunity for me to see how well my plan has worked. They are obviously not on to me at all so far. Otherwise, I would not be hearing this for the first time.
"She ran away," Pete replies in Sandria's place. "Packed a few things and drove to the station, going God knows where."
"She left a note," Sandria adds. "Saying that she needs some time away from us."
That is not how I phrased it, but it's interesting to see that this is what Sandria makes of it.
"And you don't know where she might have gone?" I ask.
She shakes her head. "All we know is that she drove off to the station. She didn't buy a ticket there, but we don't know if she just didn't take a train at all or if she drove to the next bigger station without a ticket and bought one there where it would have been easier to hide among bigger crowds."
"I'm sure she's okay," Pete adds. "You said she's done something like this before, and she's always been a little trouble maker, right?"
Sandria sighs and rolls her eyes.
"Yes, she has," she hisses. "But how inconsiderate of her! To do this now that we are so busy with the wedding and everything..."
She clears her throat and looks up at me.
"I am sorry," she says, trying to calm herself. "We don't want to burden you with this. It is just very troublesome with her. Always has been."
"We just hope she is okay," Pete says.
I give cast them a sympathetic smile.
"I'm sure she is."
Chapter 9
LIZ
I cannot believe it worked. He left me alone, unchained.
Since I can neither hear nor see anything from my room that would tell me of his departure, I let some time pass after he left the room, to be sure that he must be gone.
I stay in bed, naked and cuddled up in my sheets. It was not a lie that I am tired. I don't sleep well with my neck chained to a hook, and I am still not used to the feeling of the collar around my neck.
But it is not true that I am planning to take a nap the entire time he is gone.
He may able to cloud my mind while we are having sex, holding complete control over me and my dark desires. But as soon as my climax receded and I began to feel sane again, I remembered the situation I am in.
I am his captive—and when I am not blinded by lust and carnal desire, there is nothing desirable about this situation.
As soon as he leaves the room, my need for him is replaced by my need for freedom.
When I feel safe enough, I peel myself out of bed and put on the bathrobe. Even though no one can see me right now, I still feel weird walking around naked all the time.
I calmly inspect the room, trying to look relaxed and rather uninterested in whatever I find. He may be watching me, after all.
If this is a test and he just told me that he would be gone, leaving me unchained and alone for a few hours just to see what I would be doing, I don't want to fail right away by waving in front of the window.
In any case, that would be a futile effort, as another look outside confirms. There is no one there who could see me and the windows are still locked.
I rummage through the drawers of the dresser next to my bed but find nothing but sex toys and rope in them. Some of the utensils, I have seen before because he has used them on me, but there are plenty more. I inspect them one by one. Paddles, floggers of all sizes, plugs, vibrators, handcuffs, and some things that look so unfamiliar to me that I cannot even imagine what they must be used for.
I close the drawers and turn around, looking up at the camera, from where he might be looking at me. I wish I knew if he has his eyes on me right now.
I wander around the room aimlessly, unsure of what to do. There must be a way out. I have checked the bathroom before, but the small window there is even less helpful than the ones in my room.
When my eyes meet the door that separates me from the outside world, I suddenly have an idea. I hurry inside the bathroom and rummage around the vanity. There might be hairpins or a nail file that I could use to try and unlock the door. My hopes aren’t very high, but I would not forgive myself if I didn’t try.
I collect everything that could be of use for my endeavor and hurry over to the door, placing everything on the floor in front of it as I go down on my knees, getting ready to tinker with the lock.
My first attempt is a little hairpin as it seems to be the most obvious choice among the utensils I am equipped with. When I grab the doorknob, ready to insert the hairpin inside the lock, the most surprising thing happens.
The doorknob turns.
I stare at my hand in disbelief as I slowly turn it all the way around, accompanied by a revealing click sound.
The door is unlocked.
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