“Get over here now!” Richard demands. He points to the spot right beside him and as Ember quickly moves to obey, I stop her.
Placing my hand in front of her and pushing her behind me, I say, “No. She’ll be staying right where she is.”
“Ember, now!” he shouts as spittle spews from his chapped lips and his face reddens.
“I said no,” I repeat as I grab Ember by the arm in case she decides to try to make a run for it toward her father. Although, I also assume she isn’t thrilled about the idea of being within her father’s reach at the moment.
Regardless that I’m enjoying knowing the thought of me having sex or even being inappropriate with Ember is making the man go insane with anger, I also am not going to allow him to whip her again.
“I had to wash his clothes,” she tries to explain.
“Ember, you have two seconds to get over here, or I will blister your ass raw.”
“Come and get her,” I taunt. “Or are you afraid to face me like a man?”
I can feel Ember try to pull away, but I know the man will beat her as I’m forced to watch. No way will I ever allow that to happen again if I can help it. Plus, it feels damn good to have some control over a situation again.
Richard wants Ember.
He can’t have her.
An evil grin spreads across Richard’s face as he takes a step backwards. “All right… if you two want to be together so much, then fine. Ember, you can stay in here with our guest. It’s high time you both get closer anyway since the wedding day is coming.”
He quickly turns around, storms out of the room, slams the door shut. The sound of keys on the other side, and then a click tells me all I need to know.
He locked Ember in the cellar with me.
Ember breaks from my hold and runs toward the door and tries to open it to no avail. She bangs on it and screams, “Papa! I’m sorry. I was only doing his wash. I swear! Nothing happened.”
His voice comes from the other side of the door. “Pray, Ember. Pray for forgiveness for your sinful ways. God will forgive. And when he does, I’ll return. Until then, pray.”
“Papa, I didn’t sin. I swear! I swear!”
No answer.
“Papa! Please!” She jiggles the handle again, but there’s no opening it.
She turns and looks at me wild-eyed. “It’s locked. He’s gone.”
I smirk and open my arms wide. I shouldn’t make light of the situation. I shouldn’t allow my sick sense of humor to take over. But I can’t help myself. “Welcome to my prison, my dear.”
12
Ember
The chains of sin strangle my soul. I didn’t mean to be this way. I didn’t mean to cross the bridge where the Devil sat.
“I’m sorry,” I say to Christopher.
“For what? Doing my laundry?”
“For sinning and bringing you down the hole with me.”
Christopher finally puts his shirt on and then sits down on the chair looking at me still standing by the door. “You didn’t sin.”
“I did.”
He tilts his head and his eyes narrow. “Because your father told you so? Is that why you think you sinned?”
I make my way to the crate feeling deep shame. “Papa Rich knows. He could see it. Feel it.”
“See and feel what?”
“I looked at your… I saw your…” I try to confess but can’t say the vile word.
He smirks. “My what?”
He’s going to make me say it.
“My what?” he asks again.
“Your manhood,” I blurt. “I saw it. I sinned.”
Christopher chuckles and shakes his head. “I can’t believe you said ‘manhood’.” He laughs again but then quickly steadies his emotions. “And yes, Ember, you’re going to see my manhood if we’re going to be married. It’s not a sin. It’s part of life. It’s normal. Sex is normal and will be part of our life.” He pauses. “Unless you don’t want to get married?”
I quickly shake my head, worried that I offended him with my words. “No, that’s not it. I want to marry you. I mean… I have to marry you.”
“You don’t have to marry me if you don’t want to. I can help you. I mean it when I say I’ll protect you. And if you choose to, we can run away together, and you don’t have to marry me or face my manhood ever again.”
Not wanting to discuss this further and feeling as if my face is several shades of red, I turn my attention to finding my cat.
“Pine Cone,” I sing out, looking behind the crates. “It’s okay. You can come out.”
“Your cat hates your father.”
I nod. “She’s afraid of him. Always has been.”
“What about you?” Christopher asks. “Are you afraid of him?”
I don’t want to answer the question, but I have a feeling Christopher will insist that I do.