Page 17 of Death

I should’ve given in and married Dominik to save Grace. I’m being tortured anyway, so it wouldn’t have made any difference whether it was Nolan or Dominik beating me.

Grace: Don’t feel bad. He’s so good to me, and I’m even falling in love with him. I think I can be really happy with him.

I reread the message four times, relief sinking into my bones.

At least Grace is happy. Thank God.

Nolan places his hand on my thigh and mutters, “Finish up.”

I close my eyes for a moment before typing my reply.

Ciara: I’m so happy for you. I have to go. I love you, Grace. So, so, so much!

Grace: I love you too. Let me know if you need anything.

I only get to read the message once before he snatches the phone from my hands.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to beg him to let me read all the messages again, but when I see the smirk on his face, the blood chills in my veins.

“Take off the dress so I can see your perfect body.”

Nolan sets the plate with tuna mayonnaise sandwiches on the table before taking a seat in front of me, where I’m kneeling on the floor.

Feeling torn between going completely numb and losing myself to hysteria, I just stare at him.

I’ve lost complete track of time and have no idea what day it is. All the torture and degradation just blur together into one endlessly long nightmare.

He’s only left the house once to go out for supplies, but with the chain permanently around my ankle, I couldn’t get free no matter how hard I yanked at he chain. After hurting myself badly from trying to get my foot free, the chain is back on my left ankle while my right one heals.

If I could reach the drawer where the utensils are, I would’ve taken a knife and cut off my foot to escape.

Or stab Nolan until he’s nothing but a bloody mess seeping into the slits between the wooden floorboards.

There are times when I daydream about managing to pry my foot loose from the chain and running out into the sunlight.

Sunlight. I miss being outside.

I take a breath of the stale air.

Nolan picks up a sandwich and brings it to my mouth. My lips part, and I take a small bite even though I’m struggling to stomach food.

I’ve lost weight, and he doesn’t like it one bit.

While I chew, he takes two bites and watches me with the love-crazed expression that hasn’t lessened over the months.

Has it been months?

He brings the sandwich to my mouth again, and I take another small bite. Before I can swallow, I hear a phone beep, and it feels like I’m struck by a bolt of lightning.

“Well, what do you know,” he mutters while setting down the half-eaten sandwich. He pulls the phone out and checks it.

My heartbeat speeds up, my eyes glued to the device.

Grace.

Nolan’s eyes flick to me, then he lets out a dark chuckle before he types something on the phone.

“Please.” My lips form the word, but no sound comes out.

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