Chapter 15

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I didn't wake up until Sunday afternoon around one. Chandler had heavily drugged me, which left my body aching and my head pounding. The occasional muscle spasm would startle me for a second, only to disappear as rapid as it struck.

Light flooded into the room from the midday sun, forcing me to turn myself towards the door. I couldn't build the motivation to get up, every bit of me drained, mentally and physically. I'm just so tired, tired of everything. And so I laid there, wrapped in the white covers, unable to move without an overwhelming feeling of nausea flooding me. Slowly, I began to notice the footsteps approaching the door, sending waves of panic into me. He was going to hurt me. I disobeyed last night, I deserve the pain he would give. Bad behavior earns punishment, after all.

When the doorknob started turning, I pressed my face deep into the pillow, gripping the blanket protectively. As he neared the bed, I felt like he'd strike me at any second. Instead, his fingertips went into my hair, gently massaging my scalp and easing the dreadful headache.

"Hey beautiful," He greeted while crouching in front of me, his figure blocking the light past my closed eyes. "No need to pretend you're still asleep, Jess, the death grip you have on that blanket gives it away."

With a small puff of air, I opened my eyes. I wasn't trying to pretend to sleep, I just didn't want to face him. Fear is powerful. "There are my favorite eyes." He smiled down at me, but I couldn't handle any expression except my flat face. "How are you feeling?"

"Exhausted. Everything hurts. I feel like absolute shit." My voice was scratchy and rough, wanting to give up with the rest of my body. "Yes, that's the normal response to the sedative. It'll get better after you eat something." Sedative... He uses those on me often, but this one was different. I guess it's stronger. Where does he even get them from? I doubt I wanted to know.

"Can you get up on your own?" Standing back to his full height, the intimidation only continued to increase. Not being very tall myself, only 5'1, he made me feel incredibly weak and useless. How cliche.

Pushing back the two blankets on top of me, I noticed I was dressed in different clothes. A baby blue sweater and light gray sweatpants. Glancing at Chandler, I raised my eyebrows accusingly. "It was pretty cold this morning and you were shivering. Calm down, your bra and panties didn't change."

There was no energy in me to remark at him in a smartass way, despite how badly I wished to. The late December weather did make the apartment cooler, so I guess I couldn't argue. Instead, I put my focus on shifting my body weight so my arms could push me up. To say I struggled is an understatement.

The muscles in my arms shook as I tried to lift myself, making me collapse within seconds. My vision blurred, moving focus on different objects as my head pounded. Chandler brought his arm around my back to assist me, causing me to swat it away, like a fly. The movement was immediately regretted, as it reverberated through my skull.

"You're having a hard time, I'm just trying to help." Holding back his hands defensively, I muttered quietly, "Help? I would be fine if it wasn't for you." He distastefully grunted while backing away. Continuing my useless attempts at getting up, the more I tried, the worse my attempts became.

At some point, I gave up, screaming in aggravation. I felt so weak. The crybaby tears returned, only making me feel more helpless and reliant on him. "Please, Chandler," I begged, for my freedom, for the pain to stop, for him to just kill me.

"I'll have to carry you downstairs. You can come back to bed after you eat something, it'll make you feel better." Stroking some of my tears away, he ignored my plead, effortlessly lifting me. The sensation made my head spin, adding to my growing nausea.

          

As he carried me down to the dining room, I shut my eyes, trying to escape the dizziness and swirling vision. The pain did nothing but make me cry more, I wanted it to stop. I wanted to go home. The past three weeks felt more like an eternity.

"A close friend of mine is coming to visit the day after tomorrow. He'll be staying here with his girlfriend for a week." Chandler spoke as he set me down a cushioned chair, sitting next to me after. "His 'girlfriend' is in the same situation, isn't she?" I asked with a solemn expression, already sure what his answer would be.

A nod was all I got. "Oh, That's...." Trailing off, I didn't know what to say and Chandler's silence gave me the impression that he didn't feel like talking about it more. I guess I wanted to have someone to talk to other than Stella and this demon, but it made me wonder how many other girls were trapped like this too.

"Where are they from?" Turning to him, his gaze was on my nails, which I was mindlessly picking at. "Southwest Florida. Lucas is coming to assist with a work project." Automatically, I already hated Lucas. He's probably just as demonic as Chandler.

"Is he a business partner?" Although my head was still aching terribly, I was hardly able to ask questions without upsetting him, so I wanted to ask as many as I could. Chandler pulled my hands apart, preventing me from pulling at the skin any longer. I was close to making my cuticles bleed and I didn't even realize it.

"I guess it could be put that way. He's a surgeon, but we used to work together when I was just starting my business. We both help each other when we can." Chandler didn't normally talk about himself or his personal life. Honestly, it was mainly him commanding or lecturing me when we did speak. "So you were a surgeon?" That could relate to how he gets all the drugs.

Chandler chuckled softly, grasping my hand in his. "No, I was in the Navy." Oh, U.S. military. That was unexpected. "Lucas was too?" He nodded his head. "What about the girl, do you know anything about her?"

"Not much, I haven't met her yet. Her name is Nakoa, she's from Canada." Before I had time to respond, Chandler stood, dropping my hand back onto my lap. "Enough with questions, you need to eat." I didn't feel very hungry, but I knew that eating would help with the headache, and I wanted it gone.

After eating, I went back upstairs and showered, returning to the bed after. Stella wasn't here today, and I wondered if it had to do with why she was distant yesterday. As much as I wanted to ask her what was wrong, I didn't think she'd be willing to talk about it, especially after her coldness towards me. Did I do something to upset her?

For the rest of the evening, I stayed in bed, my headache slowly easing away and my body beginning to regain strength. Chandler came in often to check on me, but stayed in his office for the most part. I had been watching movies for a few hours, growing tired as time ticked by.

Staring at the clean white sheets, I wondered if there truly was a way out. All my efforts brought me pain and no positive results. Stella said his trust was the way out, but I'm doing a pretty sucky job on that spectrum. Pretending to like someone I despise isn't easy, especially when he wants so much from me. I can't sit around and listen to his every demand, it's painful.

Groaning frustratedly, I threw my head back into the soft pillows. This damn man will be the death of me. And with Lucas coming, It'd be even harder to find any possible time to try and sneak away. As for Nakoa, I don't know what she will be like, maybe a bitch, maybe nice. I hoped for the latter.

Stella confused me. Unable to form a solid opinion on her, I remained unsure. She didn't seem trustworthy, her debt to Chandler overpowered, but I understood why. She's forced to pick between helping me escape or keeping her son and mother save, as well as herself. If I was put in her position, I can't say I wouldn't prioritize my family. They're everything to me.

I wished to be with my sister and father.

Jess,
Good morning, I hope you slept well. I left earlier than usual this morning, so I didn't want to wake you up. Stella won't be here again today because of reasons with her family, so it's just you. After you eat breakfast and get ready for the day, I'd like for you to prepare the guest bedroom, it's across our room, the second door on the right. I'll be home at 12 to help you for a while before I have to go back to work. There are clean bedsheets in the room and the cleaning supplies are in the laundry room by the kitchen. Thanks.

Oh, so now I'm his stand-in maid? Fucking ridiculous. If it wasn't for the trouble I would get in for ignoring his instructions, I wouldn't touch the room. First, he kidnaps me and now he makes me clean? Why not make me a whole damn housewife while you're at it?

I thought about pulling the books off the shelf just to divert my anger, but I couldn't bring myself to harm the innocent books I loved so much, no matter how bored they made me.

I went downstairs and ate cereal, not up to cooking, going into the laundry afterward. The stairs would be a problem with the cleaning shit. Needing the vacuum, dusting things, and mop, I realized I wouldn't be able to get it all up in one trip. If I'm being quite honest, I felt lazy and only wanted to sit down and do something unproductive. Despite my desire to do absolutely nothing, I pulled my hair back into a bun and got to work.

By the time Chandler returned to the apartment, I was nearly done with the guest room, so we worked on cleaning other areas. The day was relatively peaceful except for a few minor arguments between us. The intense drugging he had done to me was still in affect, causing fatigue and headaches throughout the day. It wasn't nice.

...
I updated? Wowww. It's been forever, I know, I know. Very sorry, accept my millions of apologies pleaaaaaase. I'll really try to write more, but writers block is a real pain. Sorry sorry sorry. Enjoy this longish but not really chapter.

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