Page 18 of Cruel Love
I couldn’t escape James. Not with the collar around my throat, andtrapped in a house where I was confined to a single room. Even if I did figure out a way to ditch the collar, and flee the house, then what? I didn’t even know what part of the country I was in.
Fleeing wasn’t the answer. If I was going to survive James, I neededto make my life a little easier. He said if I pleased him, he would reward me. I wasn’t stupid enough to think he would reward me by not having sex with me, but if I pleased him, then maybe,just maybe, he might go a little easier on me.
I was sure that was wishful thinking, but I could still make it work tomy advantage. Maybe he’d reward me with something I wanted. Like maybe my writing journals. I’d survived Peartree House because I had the ability to lose myself in fantasy worlds when I was doing my chores or being beaten.
With enough practice, I was certain I could find a way to lose myselfin fantasies, while James did whatever he wanted to my body. What happened when he succeeded in getting me pregnant though, I wasn’t sure. I would just have to take this one day at a time.
With a heavy heart, I made my way back to the living room andpicked up the books before spending the rest of the day reading them from cover to cover, doing my best to ignore the thick knot of dread that had settled in my stomach.
The following morning, I woke to a sticky feeling between my legs.Jumping out of bed, I sprinted to the bathroom to discover that my period had started.
My period was as regular as clockwork, but with everything that hadhappened over the last few days, it had slipped my mind, and I'd put my tender breasts, and stomach twinges down to James’ rough treatment.
After I cleaned myself up, I searched through the cupboards fortampons, but a lump of dread settled in my stomach at not finding any, knowing I'd have to admit to Edith I was on my period, certain it would be reported back to James.
Sure enough. when Edith brought me breakfast, and I sheepishly asked her if she couldbring me tampons, she told me she would have to ask James’ permission first. Thankfully, she returned a short while later with three boxes oftampons, and her usual sneer of disgust on her face.
Every month when I had my period, the first two days wereunbearable. Stomach cramps gripped me hard, and nausea made it nearly impossible to do anything.
At least this time, I was left alone to wallow in my discomfort. AtPeartree House, I had to suck up the symptoms and get on with whatever chore or task Ms. Milligan had set me without letting on how much pain I was in.
I’d learned the hard way to not ask for pain relief. Despitebeing in a new environment, I had no intention of asking for any, certain that if I asked Edith for pain relief, she’d have to ask for James’ permission. The sick bastard would probably have taken great delight knowing I was in pain.
But for some reason, the cramps this month were worse than ever,waking me in the middle of the night. I darted to the bathroom thinking I was going to be sick, but nothing came up. As I hovered over the toilet, burning heat crawled through my body, and sweat trickled down my back.
Needing to cool myself down, I stumbled into the living room andcracked open the door to the Juliet balcony a fraction. I didn’t want to open it wide in case one of the guards who patrolled thought I was trying to escape.
The fresh breeze washed over me, cooling my flushed skin. Lyingdown next to the small gap, I closed my eyes and prayed that my cramps would ease.
But as I began to doze off, hushed voices floated up to my room. Ilaid as still as a statue, not wanting to give away that I was out of bed. Aside from my heart pounding, the room was quiet, allowing me to make out what the voices were saying.
“Keep your voice down,”one man hissed angrily.“Just ‘cos Carterisn’t here doesn’t mean others aren’t listening.”
“I just think it’s a bad idea. We got away with it last time ‘cos it was aone-off, and only small. If we take something bigger, James or one of the others will notice,”another voice said, his tone laced with urgency.
There was a small thud followed by a grunt, and I wondered if one ofthe men had hit the other.
“I told you, shut the fuck up and stop worrying. Carter won’t notice.He’s got tons of expensive shit in his house that I bet he doesn’t even know he’s got. He ain’t gonna miss another vase going missing-”
“That’s not the point, Butch. If he finds out, we’re dead,”the otherman said, his voice growing more alarmed.
“How many times do I have to tell you, Mack, he won’t find out. Youreally need to stop being a pussy, you know that, right?”When silence followed, the man, Butch, continued.“Look, we earned a decent amount last time, but we could earn more from this one, that vase is worth double what we got for the last one. Think what that will do for your kids, Mack. Just this one last time, I promise. Are you in or not?”
I held my breath, waiting for the other man, Mack, to reply.
“I’m in,” he sighed.
“That’s the spirit,”Butch, said, his tone now gleeful.“Now come on,let’s get back to our rounds before anyone notices we’re missing.”
Footsteps echoed away from my room. Still, I didn’t dare move as Ireplayed what I’d just heard, making sure that my theory was correct.
James’ men were planning on stealing from him.
The question was, did I tell him?
Chapter 8
James
