"You didn't eat again."
Even with the blanket pulled over her head, she could still feel the intense stare on the back of her neck. A sliver of space between the pillow and blanket revealed the untouched dinner from the previous night sitting on the nightstand, likely now stale and cold, being replaced with breakfast. The aroma of egg and bacon made her stomach grumble, but she ignored the gnawing hunger.
"Princess, you have to eat," he exasperated.
The sheets wrinkled under her grip, eliminating the small opening in her blanket and plunging herself into darkness.
Sighs of exhaustion filled the air.
"Don't test me, princess. I won't hesitate the slash one of the captives' throats."
The pressure grew with each second until footsteps receded, eliciting a haste, "Wait."
The steps ceased.
Gingerly she lowered the duvet below her eyes. Her tongue peeked out to wet her lips. "I want something else to eat."
Seeing the first half of her face brought an involuntary smile to Brandon's tired face, the relief cradling his coarse voice, "…What do you want to eat?"
"I would like to have a banana bread and strawberry frappuccino from Starbucks. Is that okay?" The last words dwindled into a whisper, accompanied by big doe eyes, bringing out a helpless smile from Brandon.
"Of course, princess. You can have everything." He cooed. "I'll be back in a jiffy." He brushed the messy fringe on her forehead back to place a chaste kiss before leaving the room.
As soon as the click of the door fell into place, Cherry's expression turned stoic. She flung the sheets off her, swung her legs over the edge of the bed, pulled something from under her pillow and then disappeared into the bathroom.
She let out a breath in front of the mirror, her hands on either side of the sink. "I thought he would never leave." She brought her face closer, craning her neck to the side. With her right hand, she felt the edge of her collar, her fingertips stopping on the wide, jagged gashes. "Almost there." She muttered under her breath as she pulled out the butter knife she had taken from under her pillow.
She had been slicing away at the durable material for two days, and today will be the day she succeeds.
Her stomach let out a loud, hollow rumble, and she clutched at it in pain.
I could kill for some food right now. To avoid suspicion, she had to hole up in her room and go on a hunger-strike. It gave her a reason to stay under the blanket. Had Brandon found the butter knife or noticed the slit in her collar, he would have surely tied up her arms and legs. She could forget about ever seeing the blue sky then.
With sore arms, she sawed away at the leather. Her arms were cramping when cold air hit her neck, and the clattering against the sink echoed in the cool air, leaving behind a band-like print on her neck.
"I have to move." Although she doesn't know the exact distance to the nearest Starbucks, it's likely near the city, which, based on her experience, would take at least an hour to reach. She couldn't waste another second and shot out of the room, heading directly to the study.
The first time she was here she marveled at the space, but now she wondered how she never noticed the scent of blood clinging to the books. Her fingers felt gritty and unclean at the mere idea of touching them, yet she still moved to the book's location. After pulling it, she punched the code into the safe and watched how the intricate mechanism made the bookcase move.
The moment she stepped in, a picture slipped from the book she carried and fluttered down onto the carpet. Scrutinizing the picture, her eyes grew round like saucers upon recognizing the figures, causing words to tumble out of her mouth. "What's the meaning of this?"
...
"Mom! Dad!" She stumbled over her feet a few times when she rushed down the stairs, the handrail the only thing keeping her from face-planting.
Facing away from each other in their chairs, Cherry's dad worked at the knot around Cherry's mom's hand. Their faces brightened considerably at the sound of their daughter's voice, and they instantly stopped whatever they were engaged in.
"Cherry!"
Cherry's legs crumbled at the sight of her parents being safe. Though roughened up, they were still alive and safe. She retrieved the butter knife, kneeled behind her mother and worked at the rope. "Don't worry, I'll get you both out of here."
"Dear , Brandon, he—"
"I know." She interrupted her mother while she was cutting the ropes. Realizing her tone had come out disrespectful, she softened her frown and whispered again, "I know…"
After freeing her father, she turned her gaze to the doctor, who, disheveled and silent until this moment, appeared to be in poor condition. "Miss Graywood…"
God, with did Brandon do? The man's face was a mask of bruises, so swollen and discolored that recognition was impossible, while sickening greenish blotches spread further down his body.
She winced and freed him as well. Seeing the man stagger unsteadily back on his feet, she murmured despondently, "I'm so sorry about my husband, Doctor."
His warm gaze chilled at her apology. "You still think of him as your husband?"
"I…"
"That's not important right now. We need to find our phones and get out of here to notify the police." Her father interjected.
"No!" Six pairs of eyes blinked in unison at her sudden outburst. With her hand pressed to her lips, she cleared the awkwardness from her throat. "I've got a plan." She gestured to them to come closer, and they huddled together as she relayed her idea to them. The more she spoke, the more their expressions shifted from attentive attention to bewilderment.
A heavy silence settled between them once she finished speaking, and after a pause, her father's voice, laced with doubt, inquired, "Are you sure you want to do this?"
With clear-headed eyes, Cherry answered, "Yes."
Her father supporting the injured Dr. Heart, the group hurried from the basement, desperate to retrieve their possessions. After gathering all the necessary items, they moved forward with their plan.
....
Everyone froze at the deafening sound of tires screeching to a stop. They all glanced at Cherry, who was hunched by the window and peeking through the curtains. "It's him," she mouthed, and that was all they needed to hear before they hurried back to the basement.
Brandon's eyebrow twitched at the overwhelming, acrid smell that permeated the house as he entered, but ignored to need to find the source and ambled his way towards the basement stairs.
He encountered a scene that would make a normal person flee, but he just stood there with arms crossed over his chest and even dared to smirk upon seeing the four individuals holding a knife.
His gaze found his beautiful, anxious wife, and before he could speak, she interrupted.
"We are going to burn the place down."
The light in his eyes dimmed. "So you've decided to kill me?"
"Yeah, so," she said, pressing the cold steel of the knife to her throat and gesturing with her head towards the chair. "Sit down."
"I see." He nodded in understanding and sat in the chair, allowing Cherry's father to fasten the rope. His gaze stayed locked with Cherry's for the whole time and she had to swallow a lump.
"Any last words?" Cherry questioned.
His lips twisted into a slightly uneven smirk. "Bury me next to you."
Once they all made it out of the basement, Mr. Hearts lit a match, its sulfurous scent filling the air, and dropped it onto a spot soaked in gasoline, instantly igniting everything in a roaring blaze. One by one, each book combusted into ashes.
"We have to go now." Cherry's dad urged.
With a nod, they rushed out of the study, yet in that instant, Mr. Hearts turned his head and realized Cherry hadn't budged from where she stood.
"Mrs. Graywood, what are you doing? We need to leave."
His words alerted her parents, and as they prepared to rush in and retrieve her, sections of the ceiling unexpectedly collapsed, barricading the room.
Her father muttered a curse, then rushed downstairs to the kitchen, frantically searching for tools to clear the debris so they could reach Cherry.
Meanwhile, her mom, eyes wide with unshed tears, gazed at her. "Cher…what do think you're doing?"
Cherry's nose burned from the smoke, and her sight grew indistinct and hazy. "He needs me…"
"Mrs. Graywood, I don't understand what triggered you in making this choice, but that monster doesn't need you."
Cherry blinked away the blurry vision and glowered at Doctor Hearts. "Doctor," she managed, her voice raspy with a cough, "while I understand your concern, you have no right to interfere in my husband's and my private matters. Why did you even hire that detective?"
At her question, the doctor gritted his words back.
"Cherry, the doctor is right. He kept you hostage, and he kidnapped us. You're not thinking straight now, honey."
Cherry met her mother's concerned eyes and retrieved a picture from her pocket, holding it up for her to see. "Do you recognize this picture?"
Her mom's eyes grew wide, and with a wobbly voice she asked, "How did you get that?"
Even Mr. Hearts was struck dumb, his gaze fixed on a candid photograph of young Cherry, who, with a stick, was gleefully extracting the entrails of a porcupine, her skin flushed with pure delight.
Cherry's head throbbed, and a vivid memory surfaced: her talking to a person in a white coat, her parents watching anxiously from behind. I guess either Mom or Dad took this picture to prove my insanity to the psychiartist.
"Che-cherry, this was a long time ago. You were a kid and you're cured now. So do nothing stupid and come here." Her mom's lips trembled as they forced the words out.
Cherry let out a self-deprecating, cough-riddled laugh, saying, "You mean my memory loss was the cure." A tear left the corner of her eye down her chin. "I was never sane."
"You're not crazy! We can fix this! Listen to me and come here—"
More of the ceiling collapsed, drowning out her mother's words. She could only peer through the dust as she smiled mournfully. "Take care, Mom." And she disappeared back into the basement.
"Cherry!" Her mom's cry echoed through the house, a mournful sound that pursued her all the way down into the basement. Soot smudged her face, streaked with the tracks of tears as she stood before Brandon, whose head remained bowed until her footsteps disturbed the silence.
His face contorted with a jolt of pure shock.
"Why did you come—"
SLAP
The force of her slap sent his head snapping to the side, and before he could even register the sting, she yanked his collar and shook him with all her might. "You bastard! Asshole! You knew this whole time I was planning to escape. Of course, you had to know there are surveillance cameras in every corner of this damn house! But you did nothing… why?"
"I realized after breaking the cup that you were right. We can't be like this forever. But the most important thing," His voice took an odd turn and his eyes turned red, not from the smoke billowing in the air, but from the unshed tears. "I can't be your Lou anymore. I wanted you to be mine—shit, I still want you to be mine. You were mine, but I've lost you. But I would rather die than not have you in my life. So I let it happen: you taking the knife, the hunger-strike, the cutting of the collar. I knew all of that, but left it be because I'll never let you go if you didn't kill me now."
"But you left that book on the desk on purpose, didn't you? You let me find that picture on purpose, didn't you? Why? To mock me? To call me a hypocrite?" She snorted.
He shook his head, a drop of blood from his split lip trickling down his chin as his tongue darted out to taste it. "Not at all. I was just hoping it would spark a memory and help you see that killing wasn't so terrible.
"Ha! God, you're such a manipulating asshole." She pressed her palms against her burning eyes. "But I like it."
She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him in for a crushing kiss. There was nothing gentle about this kiss. She nibbled on his bottom lip, sucking the blood from his lips and earning a gasp before her tongue dived into his mouth. Their tongues clashed, a passionate battle she was undoubtedly succumbing to. Her moans got swallowed, and each time she tried to move away for air, he would follow her like a ravaged beast and capture her lips again.
When she could finally breathe again, she found herself straddling his lap, and her lips felt sore as she licked away the string of saliva between them.
She rested her forehead against his as she rasped, "Get me out of here."
He pecked her lips and gave her a boyish grin, "Your wish is my command." He used raw power to break free of the ropes. Cherry couldn't feel her legs anymore and let him carry her, watching him walk with ease towards a wall and press a loose cobblestone to reveal a secret passage.
Lost for words, Cherry blinked copiously before her eyes drifted to Brandon.
He winked at her. "I always have a hidden exit just in case."
For the first time in a long time, Cherry let out a joyous, unrestrained laugh. "Hahaha, you're impossible!" Wiping away a tear with her finger, she said, "Oh, lend me your once we're outside. I need to text my parents to tell them I'm okay and they don't need to search for me. Also, I have to apologize to April and inform her that I'm redoing my honeymoon."
Brandon's eyes lit up at the mention of the honeymoon. Cherry giggled and patted his cheek. "You like that?"
He let out a pleased growl and rubbed his nose on her cheek. "Hell yeah."
The End.