Page 52 of Depravity

“Why?” She asks. “Why did he do this?”

“Not pregnant.” Is all I can say back.

She screws her face up. “That sick bastard.” She says, as if we don’t know it.

She gets up, disappearing into the bathroom and comes back with a cup of water.

“Here, drink this.”

I gulp back the drink, letting it pour down my chin in my haste.

Will Conrad punish me for this, for drinking? Will he punish her too, for intervening?

She moves around, crouching beside me so I can actually look at her. Not that I want to. Shame, fear, so many emotions rush through me, and once more I’m trembling uncontrollably.

She reaches down, hugging me and that seems to be the catalyst, the final straw. I let out a wail, a broken sound that makes me feel more like an injured animal than anything else.

I just want to go home.

I just want to get out of here. But I know I’ll never escape him.

“You’re okay,” She reassures, as if we’re both now pretending this is all some misunderstanding. “You just need to hang on.”

“Han-hang on for what?”

I don’t e/ven know if I want the answer. What does she know that I don’t? Has Conrad already made a decision Has he now decided I’m too much hassle, is that it?

Perhaps a nice bullet to the head is the answer here.

But Conrad won’t do that, no way he’d give me an easy death. Oblivion is my fate, that’s where he’ll send me. And then he, his friends and all the other Lords can continue to abuse me until I really am dead.

“We’re going to get you out of here.”

Those words make me freeze, sending a chill through me. I know it’s what I want, what I’ve dreamed of but I have no friends, no allies, no one who would be willing to risk going up against the Blakes.

“What, what are you talking about?” I gasp.

This is a trick. It has to be. Is my dear husband there, is he hiding in the dark crevices of this room, waiting to see how I react and before planning to punish me accordingly?

“Your father is coming.”

I blink back, barely registering the words.

What the fuck? I don’t even know who my father is. I doubt the man knows I exist either. Beyond the scrawled pages of my mother’s diary, the man is a ghost. A figment of my imagination and nothing more. Besides, I’ve lived the last twenty-one years of my life without any contact from him, why would he suddenly appear now? Why would he even care now?

She gives me a sympathetic smile while looking at the bruising, as if my injuries alone explain why I’m not jumping for joy.

“He didn’t know where you were.” She says. “It’s complicated because of who he is, but he’s on his way now.” She states. “He’s coming back for you.”

Bullshit. I know it is.

This is a test of loyalty. Conrad is wanting to see if I’ll betray him.

She tuts, muttering under her breath. “I’m not lying, I’m trying to help you.”

“No one helps me.” I can’t hold those words back, nor the tears that follow. And I hate that it’s true. That I am so utterly alone.

“Ssssh, it’s okay.” She says, like she’s my friend, like I’d believe a word she has to say. “He’s going to get you out of here. You just need to hold on, to be patient.”

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