All day I’ve waited, my hands cuffed and my heart fearful. I can’t even eat because I feel so sick and just trying to use the bathroom is a feat in itself as I try to get used to having my wrists bound together. Through it all, the thing I’m scared of the most is my father. What’s happening, what’s going on, and I’m afraid that I’ll never see him again?
When I hear the garage door lift, my heart rate increases tenfold. He’s here. This time he may not be distracted. Whatever he had planned won’t be to my liking, that’s definite. Just thinking of the look in his eye when he left makes me shiver inside.
However, as the footsteps on the stairs approach, I sense a different tread. It’s not him. They are lighter, different somehow, and now I’m hopeful and worried at the same time. Who is it?
The key turns in the lock and the door inches open, cautiously, carefully and slowly.
A hand reaches around the door and I stare in surprise at nails that are painted bright pink and my heart fills with hope as an attractive woman steps into the room.
She looks at me cowering on the bed in fright and a look of distaste flickers across her face, before she shakes her head and looks at me with an unreadable expression.
As I stare back, I see a woman around the same age as Mr Evans, mid-forties perhaps and immaculately dressed in a white trouser suit. Her bleached blonde hair is tied in a ponytail and her green eyes stare at me with curiosity but not surprise.
Closing the door behind her carefully, she says in a slightly husky voice, “He said you were young.”
I say nothing and wait for her to tell me who she is and she heads towards me and lifts my wrists and inserts a key into the lock. As the handcuffs fall open, I see deep red marks where they gripped my wrist and she purses her lips. “Stupid idiot, he’s damaged you.”
I stare at her in surprise as she rubs each one in turn and says as if to herself, “I’ll pick up some antiseptic cream when I’m at the store.”
Then she looks around her critically and wrinkles her nose. “This place stinks. Has the bed ever been changed?”
Finding my voice, I whisper, “No.”
“Ugh. Typical man, live like pigs and act like them too. Never mind, darling, a woman’s in charge, for now, anyway, so standards are about to rise.”
“Who are you?” My voice is hoarse, courtesy of hours of crying tears that never seem to dry up, and she smiles with a slight twist to her painted red lips. “Charlie’s wife, Donna Evans.”
I stare at her in shock as she smiles tightly. “Yes, the monster has a normal life outside of this one. We have a home, two cars and a villa in Marbella. This business is kind to us, and now you’re our newest employee.”
She laughs and yet it has no humour in it.
“Charlie was called away and sent me to babysit. I’m not sure how long he’ll be, but I’m staying until I hear otherwise.”
I just stare at her and she sighs. “Go and run yourself a bath. I need to strip the bed and give you some clean linen to make it up. This place isn’t fit for a dog, and I’ll be having words with my husband about this.”
She stares at me with a hard glint in her eye and says sourly, “If you think I’m the soft option, think again. Charlie’s given me instructions to hold you here by force if necessary. He wanted me to tie you up until he returns, but I’m better than that. You be a good girl and you get your privileges. Try to escape and you’ll spend the rest of your stay bound and gagged in the cupboard. Do you understand?”
I nod, prepared to agree to anything she says if it means I get an easier ride, and she nods with satisfaction. “Go on then, scoot and drop your clothes, I’ll run them through the machine.”
I hesitate and she snaps, “Hurry up, I haven’t got all day. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
My face burns as I remove my clothes and stand awkwardly in the centre of the room. She looks at me long and hard and says critically. “You’re ok I guess, but your tits are a little small for most men’s liking.”
She laughs a hollow sound that tells me this is no laughing matter and says cruelly, “Mind you, they don’t care as long as they get their pleasure another way. Don’t worry, darling, after the first few times you’ll get the hang of it.”
“Hang of what?” I think I already know but want her to spell it out and she laughs. “Sex, honey. You will be put to work as a prostitute and sold to men for money. Our money. In return you get fed and housed and a bed to sleep in. When your father’s debt is paid, you can leave, but just in case you’re wondering when that’s likely to be, the interest adds up to a lifetime. Accept your fate, darling, because this is as good as it gets. Now go and wash yourself and think about how to accept the situation and make the best of it.”
I need no further invitation and race to the bathroom, slamming it shut behind me. There is no lock on the door, and yet the solid wood between us gives me a moment to think. Prostitution, this can’t be happening. It’s surely a nightmare I’ll wake up from and find myself at home with my dad sleeping in the next room. Not this. Not this strange place I’ve found myself imprisoned in. Surely, they can’t make me do that, I’ll escape, I’ll find a way, I won’t let it happen.
As I run the bath, I think about the situation I’m in. What about my father, where is he, is he safe? If I run, will they kill him? It’s too much to think about and as I sink into the hot water, I almost contemplate sinking below the waterline and ending it now. That would be the easy way out. No more nightmares and no more threats. But self-preservation is a powerful emotion, and I squeeze my eyes tightly shut against the tears that are never far away. I won’t let them beat me. I’ll find a way and I’ll never stop trying. Nothing’s forever, just a moment in time that determines our future. If I want a different one than what’s on offer now, it’s up to me to shape it myself. I must be strong and keep my wits about me because I’m not going down without a fight.