Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
I soak in the hot water for a while before I ask for shampoo so I can wash my hair. Trey gets a small bottle and hands it to me. I tip my head back to wet my hair and almost slip under the water.
“You want me to help you? I can wash your hair,” Wes offers.
“Sure.” I don’t want to turn away his kindness. Even if he is being nice for some reason I’m not quite sure of yet. I’ll take whatever I can get at this point.
He comes to kneel next to the tub, sliding an arm under my shoulders so I can lean back without drowning. I get my hair wet and watch as Trey squirts some shampoo into Wes’s palm. He starts washing my hair, massaging my scalp gently, far gentler than expected, sending little jolts of pleasure down my spine. My eyes drift closed, and I relish in the feeling of his fingers threading through my locks, and massaging the tender flesh. It feels so good to be cared for. No one has ever washed my hair, and for some reason, that resonates within me. Wes is being kind, showing compassion, and it scares me as much as it makes me happy.
“Where did Declan go?” I ask as Wes rinses my hair.
“Out. You don’t need to worry about him. He won’t hurt you again.” Trey’s response surprises me, mostly because he thinks Declan hurt me. I think about correcting them, telling them that he didn’t hurt me, at least not like they think. All I wanted was for him to not discard me after sex. I wanted him to hold me instead of pushing me away. I consider that maybe the only reason they are being nice to me right now is because they think Declan hurt me and I don’t want their kindness to end. I decide not to say anything and hear them out on whatever it is they need to tell me first.
Trey helps me out of the bath and wraps my body up in a towel while Wes wraps up my hair in a second one. When we get back to the bedroom, I find a pile of clothes waiting for me on the bed.
“These are going to be big on you, but we don’t have anything else right now. When we make our monthly run, I’ll be sure to get you some things,” Trey tells me, and I wonder how long he expects me to stay here.
“Has my father contacted you?” I repeat my still unanswered question from earlier.
“Why don’t you get dressed, and then we can sit down and talk.” Wes grabs the towel and starts to dry me off, while Trey grabs a T-shirt and pulls it on over my head. I’m too busy being dried and dressed by them to respond, so I simply wait until I’m fully clothed in a T-shirt, and a pair of boxers.
“I’m dressed now. Please tell me what’s going on. You guys are worrying me, even more than normal. I’m so confused. Yesterday it seemed like you guys hated me, and now today you’re different,” I admit, knowing that I sound weak, but I suppose that’s a good thing. If I make them think I’m weak, that I’m submissive, then they’ll never see it coming when I escape, if I can manage it.
“Your father hasn’t responded to us,” Trey starts to explain while ushering me into a large living room area. I’ve only ever seen this space, but was never allowed to use it. He gently pushes me down onto a couch with a laptop on the coffee table in front of me.
“He must not have gotten the messages. Did you really send him those videos? I can’t imagine how he feels after watching those videos, he might be in shock. Yeah, he’s probably in shock. He’s my father, he loves me.” The thought of my father seeing me like that has my stomach churning, then again, the thought of him not responding at all, that’s even more terrifying, because without a response I know I’ll never escape them. They might as well let Declan shoot me.
“Yes, we sent him emails, including the videos,” Trey continues. “I’ve also been monitoring your father’s online activities, as well as all phone conversations. I know for a fact he has gotten the messages, but he is not responding. I’m worried that maybe he doesn’t care for you as much as we had initially thought.”
I shake my head, my fear spiking. “This has to be a mistake. This whole thing is a mistake. Of course he cares about me. I’m his daughter.” I find I’m yelling now, consumed with anger and pain. Nothing makes sense and what he is saying is not giving me any answers, it’s just giving me more questions.