Page 33 of Monster

11

Charlotte

As an attorney,my job is to get people to sleep up and say things they were never meant to say. But, I was so shocked by the presence of an art room in this man’s beachside mansion out in the middle of nowhere, that I completely lost all train of thought. Now, I was back down in this dumbass basement with a maid cleaning up blood stains from the floor.

And an unnamed guard kept coming in and out.

“Excuse me, sir, what are you doing?”

The man didn’t even acknowledge me, though. He didn’t turn to look at me, or nod his head, or even look over at me to signal the fact that he heard my voice.

“Sorry, are you deaf? Because I’m going to need my hands if you talk in sign language.”

That got the man to grin, but he still didn’t stop to speak with me. Or even look my way.

“Can you at least tell me what your name is?” I asked.

“No, he can’t,” the maid said.

My eyes dropped to her as she got up from the floor. “Well, then what’s your name?”

She snickered. “You’re in way over your head, you know that?”

The guard’s gruff voice filled the room. “Shut up and finish your job.”

I glared at him. “Do you kiss your mother with that disgusting mouth of yours?”

Every time the guard appeared, he had something new for me: a bag of toiletries he set out in the bathroom, or fresh towels for the linen closet in the corner. I saw him folding up panties and bras and putting them in a dresser drawer I couldn't reach anyway and watched him hang up clothes that weren’t mine, but looked like they were in my size.

“Are those mine?” I asked.

The guard closed the closet door. “Have a nice day.”

I slid off the bed. “Wait, wait, wait, wait. Wait!”

I walked toward the guard until my chain stopped me from moving. And when he turned to finally look me in the eye, I saw one of his eyes was clouded over.

“Am I at least going to see you again?” I asked.

I hated how weak my voice sounded. And apparently, the weakness of my voice disarmed this brutish man long enough to speak to me as if I were a living, breathing human.

“I really do hope you have a pleasant night, Miss Pettigrew.”

Then, the man and the maid disappeared from sight. Leaving me alone in the fucking basement again.

“Damn it!” I roared.

I whipped around and faced the bed with frustration washing through my veins. How the fuck could someone just get away with something like this? Surely, Mom had to know something was up at this point. Surely, she hadn’t actually taken me seriously when I said this was a no-tech vacation.

Then, it hit me.

Have a safe flight. And text me when you land before you do your blackout!

Oh, my God. Mom would know. Mom would know something was wrong the second I hadn’t messaged her after my plane landed. A smile spread across my face as tears welled in my eyes. I eased myself down onto the mattress, feeling relief flush itself through my entire body.

Someone out there would know something was wrong with me.

All I had to do was wait.

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