The Chateau (Chateau 1)

“I know.”

“I guess they aren’t all evil, but I’ve never seen a guard be anything other than evil.”

It made me reflect on our first meeting, when he was rough with me. Maybe he only acted that way because the other guards were around. Or maybe he always did act that way, but something about me made him less violent. I really had no idea.

“Are you sleeping with him?”

“No,” I said immediately.

“Has he tried…?”

“No.” He never did anything like that.

“You think he’s an undercover cop or something?”

Wouldn’t that be nice? “No…because he would just tell me.”

“I guess that’s true.”

“I have a new guard in the meantime. He’s a fucking psychopath.”

“They’re all psychopaths, girl. Did Magnus say where he was going?”

“No, but the guards must have time off. They can’t live here all the time. They must have lives outside of this place. Does your guard rotate?”

“Yeah. I’ve had a few different ones over the years.”

I pushed my food around, thinking about the way those brown eyes burned into mine with an inferno of rage. When the hood covered his face, I never really cared what he looked like underneath, because all the guards were the same to me—monsters. I never imagined that was his appearance, with masculine angles to his face, a hard jawline, eyes full of authority, and a voice that could make the walls shake with its potency.

“Do you think he’ll help you escape?”

“I don’t know… I feel like he would have offered that already.”

“True.”

“Honestly, I really don’t know him at all. I don’t know his purpose here. I don’t know who he is outside this camp. I don’t know why he’s kinder than the rest of them. I don’t know how far his generosity goes…”

“Ask him when he gets back.”

“Yeah, I will.”

My guard was despicable.

He treated me like a dog.

When dinner arrived that night, the woman didn’t even come inside. The guard was the one with the tray. He came toward me, held it out to me, and started to whistle like I was a dog that needed to beg for my food.

“Speak.” He whistled again. “Speak, girl.”

Did he do this to all the girls or just me? If he tortured every single one, dinner delivery would take forever, but since he was stuck here, he probably had nothing else to do with his time. And maybe he remembered punching me in the face, and he’d hated me ever since.

He started to click his tongue. “You want a treat? Roll over.”

I just stared at him, unable to believe this bullshit.

His voice deepened. “Bitch, I said roll over.”

I’d rather starve than obey. “Fuck off.”

“What’d you just say to me?”

I should hold my tongue because he wanted me to fight back. He wanted any excuse to punish me more. It was exactly what he wanted.

He came closer until the tray was right under my face. He shook it, making the roll vibrate then fall onto the floor. “You think you can talk to me like that?” He pulled the tray away then sat beside me. He pulled off his gloves.

I started to breathe harder, feeling his heat beside me, feeling the way he made the mattress shift from his weight. The adrenaline mixed with the anxiety and made a brand-new cocktail.

He ate with his bare hands, shoveling the food into his mouth, making a mess everywhere, looking me right in the face to watch my reaction.

I stared straight ahead and did my best to ignore him.

He got stains all over his clothes, chewed loudly and obnoxiously, his lips smacking, adding a loud burp just to disgust me. “Pretty fucking good.” He finished the tray until it was clean. “Maybe if you listen, you’ll get some next time.” He rose from the bed, threw the tray on the floor, and then walked out.

My eyes shifted to the roll that sat on the floor, the only morsel I would get that evening. I was too stubborn to eat it, would rather lose sleep from the hunger than break my strength.

But then my eyes shifted to the book on my nightstand.

I had to bide my time, hold my patience, and then my chance would come…and I would get retribution.

But in order for that to happen, I had to stay strong. I had to eat. I had to stay calm. My eyes needed to remain focused on the prize that was far in the distance, the dream that would become a reality…someday.

I picked up the roll and ate it.

Another Red Snow.

I didn’t look, would never look.

But it was impossible to tune out the sounds, to listen to an innocent woman scream as she was dragged to the noose. Then the gag after she dropped. The knife to the stomach. The guttural sounds. And then the silence of death.

You couldn’t block that out.

You couldn’t keep it from your nightmares.