CHAPTER SIX: WINTER
I barely sleep a wink.
All night long I tossed and turned in the sheets that were too soft to be a part of my prison. I restlessly paced around the room, my feet cold against the wooden floorboards.
At one point, I'd heard voices and I'd tensed up, thinking it was him, Maximo, returning. My heart had begun to beat in my chest so hard that I thought it was going to explode and put me out of my misery. Pinpricks had stung my skin and I'd felt lightheaded as I searched for a weapon, anything to defend myself against him. Because I knew there was no way anyone was going to save me for a second time if he returned.
It'd taken me awhile to realize that the voices weren't actually coming from outside my door, and by that point I was pretty sure my panic attack had turned into a heart attack. I'd managed to calm down, sitting down on the edge of my bed. I’d been taking deep breaths when I realized the sound was actually coming from outside. I crept over to my window, my steps soft just in case someone was near my room. I didn't want to bring any attention to myself.
Pulling the dark curtains back from the windows, the first thing I noticed was the thick lock on the base of the window. The thick metal was hard to miss, a small keyhole on top of it and a latch to the side. I'd pulled on the latch, but it hadn't budged. The Costa family weren't taking any chances at letting me escape or kill myself. Because if I were to go out of the second story window, that's what was going to happen. I'd fall to a painful death.
I turned my attention away from the lock, peering outside. The moon was out, the only light in the dark sky and it shined down on the courtyard where a group of people stood around a fountain I hadn't paid any attention to on my way in. I didn't recognize any of the people. They were all men, most of them tall, the entire group muscular and intimidating. I could see the red light of a lit cigarette that was being passed around, smoke tendrils floating around the group like an unwanted visitor. They talked and laughed, shooting the shit as they slapped each other on the back.
I gritted my teeth as I watched them enjoy theirselves. I wondered if they knew I was being held here against my will, well sort of against my will. But I already knew the answer, they were aware and didn't care. The Costa family must have a plethora of prisoners after all and anyone associated with them knows it. Hell, the group of men I was spying on would probably be the ones ensuring that I didn't try to escape. Or worse, the ones who would punish me if I tried to run. A chill ran down my spine just as one of the men turned, his gaze moving up to my window.
I froze, my spine stiffening as recognition flashed in my mind.
Maximo.
A cigarette dangled from his fingers and as he stared at me, a slow grin crept across his face before he raised his free hand, wiggling his fingers at me in a mocking manor.
I abruptly jumped back, letting the curtains fall back across the window. I folded myself back into my bed, clutching a pillow to my chest as I anticipated Maximo reappearing.
Fortunately, he never came, and at some point I drifted off to sleep, nightmares of monsters who danced in the light waking me.
Now daylight is streaming into my room, the rays shining across the floorboard. My eyes burn, a heaviness to them that I should be used to by now. A yawn slips past my lips just as the lock on my door clicks, the small sound seeming to thunder through the room. My shoulders bunch up and my body grows cold as a knock comes next. I frown at the weird gesture.
Why would they knock instead of just coming in? It's not as if they've shown me respect in any other regard.
Before I can say anything, the door is swinging open, defeating the purpose of knocking. I scoot back on the bed out of instinct, but pause when an unfamiliar woman enters my room. She's short, her skin fair, and her black hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, not a single strand out of place. She has a long, silver tray in her hands and on it sits two plates. One has fluffy, scrambled eggs, pancakes, and bacon on it. The other plate has a combination of perfectly sliced fruit. It looks like they could have been pulled from an Eating Well magazine with how neat and precise they are on the plates. A glass of what appears to be orange juice also sits on the tray.
The woman's brown eyes meet mine and she offers me a soft smile, bowing her head slightly. She moves toward the bed and all I can do is follow her with my eyes as she comes to a stop right beside me. She holds the tray out.
My mouth falls open as I stare at her, trying to figure out what in the hell is going on.
Her brows pull up and her mouth twists down slightly. "Ma'am?"
"What are you doing?" I blurt out, staring down at the tray before looking back at her.
"Your breakfast," she says, the confusion in her words clear.
I shake my head, not sure what to say. "I think you have the wrong room," I finally come up with. "That's not for me."
"Ms. Chastine?" she asks, her brows furrowing.
I nod.
"Then, yes, this is for you. Mr. Costa requested that I deliver it to you," she informs me, her smile returning.
A lump forms in my throat as I continue to stare at her in bafflement. The air in the room begins to shift, thick with awkwardness, and realizing I'm the problem I finally take the offered tray. "Thank you."
She bows her head. "Of course, ma'am. Enjoy." And just as quickly as she appeared, she's gone. The door closes softly behind her before the lock clicks loudly back into place.
I stare at the plate of food, my stomach turning in both hunger and disgust. I have no idea what I expected on my first official day as a willing captive, but breakfast in bed certainly wasn't it.
I hesitantly grab the fork from off the tray, poking at the eggs. Nothing explodes so I figure it must be safe. I take a bite and though the flavor is good, and I'm definitely hungry, I have a hard time swallowing it. And it doesn't become easier with the next bite. When I take a bite of my bacon with the same result, nausea accompanying it, I sigh, putting the tray on the nightstand next to the bed. I don't even try to sip the orange juice. I haven't liked the stuff since I was a kid and my mom used to buy a cheap brand from the corner store.
I lay back down, pulling the sheets over my body. Curling into a ball, I close my eyes. Sleep comes much quicker than it did during the night.