Page 72 of The Caged Girl

Looking over my shoulder, I ran straight into someone. “Oh!” I cried out and placed my hands between us.

“Conrad…” I could feel the blood in my body turn cold. Conrad Ivory, the son of Ian and Daphne Ivory. The man who raped me on our wedding night and wanted to continue the legacy. The man I thought I had killed. My first husband.

“Hello, my beautiful wife.” Conrad brushed his hands across my shoulders and then tilted my chin up.

I was frozen in fear, in shock, and paralyzed by the fact that this was it. I’d never escape from them.

“It’s funny that you were so foolish to think we’d give you poison pills. This was all such a wonderful test of loyalty, wasn’t it?” Conrad dug his nails into my wrists as I tried to move back, but my body wouldn’t let me.

“Conrad,” I breathed out. “I’m not your wife; I am Alister Ivory’s wife, and if you don’t release me right now, I’ll have you hung and bleeding out.” I forced myself to sound confident, though fear pounded through me.

He let out a dry laugh. “You stupid bitch, I don’t want you. You’ve been used by my entire family. At this point, you’re just the Ivory family whore. I married a caged girl, which was what I should have done all along. You probably have met her…Kandi? She’s quite the hair and makeup artist. We are just picking out a child since I had her uterus removed when she was acting hormonal and hysterical during her monthly bleeding.”

Kandi was married to Conrad? My heart sank as I looked around. No one could be trusted; everyone was a part of this sick and twisted family.

“We are leaving soon and didn’t want to wait for one of these hags to push out a baby, only to hear them crying and whining all day. I convinced Kandi we needed a trained child. I heard you chose some new inventory.” His sinister smile had the air in my lungs dissipating.

“I guess you needed the right Ivory husband to set you straight, and honestly, Uncle Alister is the most insane of us all.” He winked at me before abruptly wrapping his hands around my neck and speaking into my face, where splatters of saliva hit my cheeks.

“Conrad, I… You died in front of me…” I was in disbelief. They never died.

“How are you here?” I rasped as I stared at him with my eyes wide, scared to blink because then he’d disappear and I’d know I was unwell.

“You can’t kill an Ivory. But truly, you were the best fuck; I’ll miss you, Demilion.” Slamming his lips and tongue against mine, I gagged and tried to push him off with no luck. Releasing me, I began coughing and hunched over.

I had no words or thoughts left in me. Every bit of my life and story had felt like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.

“Bye, baby girl.” I watched him go in the other direction, which had to be where the kidnapped children were being kept.

“Conrad!” I called out.

He stopped and spun around curiously. “Yes, my beloved?” he mocked.

“The new inventory I selected isn’t there right now; they went to get their health screenings done. You’ll have to head to the medical wing.”Please, please let him believe me.

“Well, thank God. I hate going into that disgusting, smelly, whiny-filled space.” Conrad shrugged and purposely rammed into me before leaving.

Breathing out, I waited for him to leave before I scanned my badge over the next door.

“It’ll be okay, Demi. You’re going to try your best,” I whispered to myself, but once the doors opened, the malodorous odor slapped me as I stepped into an empty space. The door shut behind me, and then the lights went off before a second door opened.

I walked into the darkness and bumped into something cold. Whimpering and heavy breathing haunted me as I squinted and dropped to my knees. “Hello?” I questioned but couldn’t see. This had to be the dark therapy. But I thought Alister kept that specific therapy to the bottom levels?

Sticking my fingers through the cold steel bars, I whispered again, “Hello?”

A sharp sensation pierced through my fingers, causing me to cry out. With my other fingers I jammed at the small mouth that had latched on, biting me.

“I’m here to help,” I wailed as I clutched my hand to my chest.

“Mommy, mommy!” A tearful plea shattered my heart.

“Please, Mommy.” I clenched my eyes shut, forcing myself to be brave. I couldn’t regress, but I also couldn’t help thinking how their cries matched my own and Layla’s. I could see my mother and father counting through the stack of bills after they handed us off.

Clutching my knees to my face, I began crying.

“Please, help us!” a little boy screamed.

It was the same voice. The little boy whose mother was intently searching for him and using her massive social media following to spread his face and videos.

---