Survival ( Book 2: Stronger Series )

34. Deal

I woke up shivering with a massive headache and a dull pain throbbing in my cheek. I opened my swollen eyelids to find myself surrounded by darkness, but I knew where I was. I was back in my cage.

I curled into myself, wrapping my arms around my legs as I began to shed the necessary tears over today's events. That was the most gruesome and traumatic thing I had ever witnessed. I wasn't completely sensitive to blood and gore. After working at a personal injury law firm for so long, I had seen some pretty disgusting autopsy photos and injuries, but nothing compared to this. I could still hear the gardener's screams echoing in my ears. It was as if I was back there, in the basement, watching him suffer because of me. I cried harder then, my body shaking with grief and guilt as I blamed myself for the horror of that poor man's final moments of life. I didn't even know how it ended.

In a way, I was glad Darren had knocked me out. It meant I didn't have to continue watching the torture show that I would never forget. But now, I had a new horror to panic for. Darren had revealed he really was planning on killing my entire family. It had been a month since he last revealed the idea to me, and I thought maybe he had dropped it since then, but apparently I was wrong. The thought of him forcing me to watch them die as I had watched the gardener had me panicking all over. Time was of the essence now. I had to warn them. I had to get a message out, but I didn't know how.

I certainly couldn't use another person as my messenger. Darren would just kill them and ensure I had a front row seat to that show, too. I had to figure something out. I had to get this goddamn collar off me! I didn't think I would be able to escape Darren entirely. Even if I somehow destroyed the collar, I had a strong feeling Darren would still find me. I couldn't make this escape about me. I had to make it about them, about my family. I just needed to warn them to run. If I could do that, if I could accomplish that one single goal, then that would be enough for me. I would take whatever punishment Darren would rain down on me for running because it would be worth it a thousand times over if it meant my family would be safe from him.

But what if that wasn't enough? What if, even after I successfully escaped, Darren still found them? I couldn't force my family into that kind of life, of running all the time, if it could be avoided, especially if it meant Darren would eventually find them anyway and then make me watch them die. I couldn't do that. I wouldn't survive it.

Maybe what I really had to do was just bite the literal bullet and accept my life as it was. Maybe if I made a deal with the devil and sacrificed myself for them, he would spare them and I could live on knowing they would, too. Maybe that would finally be enough for me.

After what felt like days later, Darren finally returned to me. I remained in the same position, curled up on my side, my arms wrapped around myself as I stared off into the distance. I refused to even acknowledge him.

I heard him release a heavy sigh as he reached down and unlocked my cage, opening the door and waiting for me to exit. I stayed right where I was. Even though my body was sore and cramped from the small space, I'd rather stay in there for the rest of the day then spend a single moment with Darren.

"Come on, Jaden. Let's go," he urged me, snapping his fingers. His voice was soft, but I could tell he was losing his patience. Still, I remained.

Another sigh escaped him as he rolled his eyes and bent down to the opposite end of the cage. He quickly lifted it up with one hand and I inevitably slid out of the cage and onto the carpeted floor. Darren was quick to seize me before I could retreat to the safety of my cage and hauled me to my feet. I tried to jerk away from him, but his hands held my upper arms, preventing me from moving.

"Stop it," he ordered softly, annoyance tagging along in his voice.

I halted my protest, finding it pointless as I stared off blankly at his chest, my lips curling back in disgust. I felt his warm hand gently grip my chin and lift my face toward him, exposing my bruised cheek so he could get a better look. He stared at it for quite some time, and I noticed something in his eyes that I had not expected to see—regret. Did he actually feel bad for hitting me like that? I'd never seen him care after he'd backhanded me, but I guess actually punching me with a closed fist was something entirely different to him.