He had a point. I didn’t even know why I was there. I supposed I just didn’t want to be at home when Anastasia woke up, I didn’t want to be sitting and waiting for that bomb to explode.
“She’s asleep.” I looked away.
“Okay…”
“I’m afraid of what she’ll do when she wakes up.” I blinked as my brother erupted with laughter at my level of patheticness. I sighed through my nose, jaw tight. I guess I couldn’t blame him. I would’ve laughed too if I weren’t deadly serious.
He had no idea. The spirit of Anastasia was unmatched by any mythical beast. Her inner fire unrivaled by any common street thug.
The last thing I wanted to do was go about this the wrong way.
I sat patiently waiting for him to settle before continuing with a flat tone. “What would you do?”
“You don’t wanna know. How about I follow you back? I’m basically finished for the day, I’m sure I won’t be missed around here.”
“I don’t need you to babysit me, Finch,” I snapped but then thought better of it. I shouldn’t have done that - I needed to recognize that he was only trying to help, in his way. I arose from my chair and scrambled quickly for a solution that would appease my younger brother.
“I think maybe you’re right though, on second thought. How about we all have dinner together? Tomorrow night, at the main house. A kind of...family night?”
At Finch’s nod, I took my leave.
I didn’t know why I thought I’d be better off with all three of my brothers instead of just Finch. Maybe it was that he wasn’t great with first impressions, or maybe it was that he didn’t have the best manners around women. I hadn’t even spoken more than a few sentences to the girl and already, I didn’t want her to be spoken to like a common whore at the strip club.
The women that ran in our social circle were toys, to be used and thrown away. As interchangeable as they came. But that’s what I was led to believe all women were like - my brothers were very promiscuous, and why wouldn’t they be. They were young, single and free of all responsibility - except Finch.
But Anastasia was special, I knew she was; like you know when you’ve been struck by lightning. So young and pure when I first laid eyes on her. But her innocence wasn’t a facade, it was the truest thing I’d ever known.
As she grew up, she still had that innocence but it grew different as she grew older. I understood why when, on her eighteenth birthday she was tossed out of her home, forced to find her own way in the world without any guidance.
Unknowingly, she had been evolving into what she needed to be.
Even the thought enraged me, but there was nothing I could’ve done. As long as her piece of shit father had been alive she wasn’t to be touched. I’d waited so long for this day to come, where there was nothing stopping me from plucking her from her pathetic little world and taking her all for myself.
I was selfish that way.
Eventually, she’d thank me for it. But for now, we had a long way to go.
A tingling instinct continued to niggle at me the entire drive home. If only Finch knew what I’d gotten myself into, but that wasn’t for him to judge. I needed to get home to check on Anastasia, she would’ve most likely woken up by now. I didn’t want to leave her on her own any longer than she had to be.
My breath caught in my throat as I heard the bedroom door lock click. Finally! I’d been going crazy for hours now. The bedside clock read that it was past ten in the morning, which meant that I’d slept all day yesterday and all last night.
I’d been awake for hours now, just waiting for someone to come by and check on me. Waiting for an opportunity to escape. As luck would have it, I was trapped in the room.
No way out.
I’d know, I spent most of the early morning trying to budge the windows and doors. Thinking of every possible way to get out of there. The door swung open and the intruder entered. I picked up the nearest object, readying myself to fling it across the room.
Which just so happened to be a chair.
I didn’t think twice. If it didn’t work at least it’d be a good story to tell.
As soon as I had a clear shot at the man, the chair went flying across the room along with my war cry. It was enough to surprise the man I recognized as the limo guy from yesterday.
Knocked to the floor by the surprise attack, I had the perfect window of opportunity to sneak past, out into the hallway and bolt towards the staircase.
I had no plan beyond that, no idea where I was going or what I was going to do. But, what if this was my one chance? Deep inside I knew I wouldn’t get far but I had to try. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t at least try?
So.
I ran, as fast as my legs would take me.
I heard feet pounding against the ground behind me, picking up speed as they covered the ground I had seconds before. Or, maybe the sound following me was my own footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. But I had promised myself I wouldn’t be one of those girls that stopped, that looked back, that tripped.
So, I kept going.
The adrenaline had me trying to pick up my pace, trying to outrun my shadow, whether it be real or imagined.
I was determined.
I had no idea where we were and I tried my hardest not to get distracted by my new surroundings. Down the hallway, I prayed that there was a way down to the ground floor. The window in the room, although locked, had been a good guide as to what the landscape beyond the house was like. Nothing but greenery as far as the eye could see. I didn’t know whether that was a blessing or a curse as of yet. I would find out soon though.
I rounded the corner and finally spotted a staircase. I sprinted for it while sending up a small thankful prayer. I knew I had a hell of a way to go but one hurdle down was one less to jump.
Arms wrapped around me from behind as I leapt for the first step. My body lifted from the ground and I screamed. I scratched at the exposed forearm around my waist, I shook and struggled, kicking and flailing. I would not go down without a fight.
“Let me go. For fuck’s sake, let me go right now! I’m telling you, put me back down you ignorant buffoon.”
“I will, when you calm yourself down.” The voice of the man whispered lowly against the crook of my neck. My shoulders shrugged up as my only protection against him. He was close, far too close for me to be comfortable.
I ceased all movement, forcing myself to go completely limp in his arms. “Fine. I’m calm. Now stop manhandling me, you brute!”
With my body limp, he took the opportunity to heave me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I silently fumed at being thrown around willy nilly, like I was nothing. His shoulder shook beneath me in response to my words.
He was laughing. At me.
It was a silent laugh, full of pity, and that only managed to rile me up even more. I did not like to be laughed at and here he was, blatantly mocking me. “Nice try though,” he said finally.
I wasn’t necessarily short, but I was petite and that was something that I’d had to deal with my whole life. I’d had a friend envy my frame in high school, she said she’d kill for a body like mine. She hadn’t been around a few days later when the upper-class boys had me cornered in the locker room.
Lost in my anger, over those boys and this man, it took a second to realize we were back in the bedroom where I had been held captive. Was ‘captive’ even the right word? I was technically here of my own accord, despite feeling like I was trapped.