Chapter 5 Five

Ashton led me out of the room and back down the way we had arrived, only to continue down towards the right hallway next to the stairs. He stops at the second door on the left and slips a key in to unlock it, revealing a large, quite cozy-looking bedroom. The bed is a simple queen-sized bed, with crisp white sheets, and a fluffy grey comforter with matching pillowcases.

This time I assess the room, and my heart drops again when I realize there is a key design missing from the room.

Where the hell are the windows?

There isn't one in the room, not even a tiny one at the top of the wall or anything. What kind of room am I in?

"I see you notice the lovely fact that this room has no windows, and neither does the bathroom or closet. It's really just a guest bedroom, not a room we lock up hostages in. We have a room in the basement for the ones we don't necessarily have to treat as nicely as we do you."

I shiver at the thought of what horrifying place they keep others in the basement, and at least thank the stars I have a comfortable room and bed, with an accessible bathroom. The lack of windows is a complete downer, there is no way I can escape if I'm locked in here all the time, but at the very least, best case scenario, I suppose, I'm not being treated like an animal, like I had envisioned.

"So, I'm just supposed to sit in here?" I ask quietly.

Ashton nods firmly. "You're to stay here, until Lucien hears from your father, and settles their agreement."

Lucien had explained to me, before I was hauled off again, that my father owes him something, from a long time ago. He was supposedly thrown in jail for quite some time, like I have believed, and wasn't able to collect his debt. Since he has been recently released, he has come back for what he is owed, and I am the bargaining chip to make sure he gets everything he wants. I wanted to ask why I was given such special treatment, not to be harmed in any way, but the presence of the man alone was shaking me to my core, and I didn't want to be anywhere near him.

I was almost grateful when he had stopped and fiddled on his phone, Ashton arriving through the door a few seconds afterwards, as if he had been standing on the other side the entire time. He had picked up my arm and this time gently dragged me out the door.

"We missed lunch, so I can bring you something now if you're hungry. If not, you have to wait another 3-4 hours until dinner is ready, and one of us will bring it to you," he says, not stepping into the room entirely like he is afraid to get too close to me. Is he afraid of me? Or just really doesn't like my presence at all?

"I'm fine for now, I can wait," I mutter. I just want to be alone, to wallow over my terrible situation, dreading the fact that I was too stupid to listen to my father. If I had even just one bodyguard as protection the other night, when I was kidnapped, there could have been even the slightest chance of escape.

"I'll leave you to wallow," Ashton whispers. I gape at him, shocked that he knew exactly what I was thinking– and doing. "I'll be back in 4 hours with dinner, be quiet and behave until then." He strides out of the room and surprisingly closes the door quietly. I heave a sigh when another heavy lock falls. I am once again trapped, in some unordinary kidnapping. Did they just exaggerate scenarios like this in books? Or have I just been kidnapped by the rare, weird, psychotic criminals?

What do you think? A small voice asks in the back of my head. I already know the answer. My kidnapping is a rare case. Lucky me, right? Leave it to me to land myself in this kind of situation. I look around the room, noticing the half-opened door that looks like it leads to a small bathroom, and a closed door that has to be the closet Ashton mentioned, which both also have no windows. There is an alarm clock on the nightstand, telling me it's 2 in the afternoon.

Maybe it's a good idea to finally take a shower, even though I'm still nerve-racking with the many ominous criminals lurking in the house, having full access to my locked room. I check the bathroom door and cheer when I see it has a lock. If they have to break down the door to get to me, at least I have a few minutes to put enough clothes on to cover myself.

The bathroom is a gentle cream-coloured, with white tiled floors, a large white wood vanity mirror above the sink; the counters made of a bluish-brown marble, and the sink a matching cream colour. There is a stand-up shower, with fogged windows and doors, the tiles surrounding the bottom are white, but the back of the shower is the same cream as the walls and sink. I feel a gentle warmth spread over me as I step into the shower, relaxing a little and welcoming the soothing, hot water on my chapped skin.

I try my best to let the warm water soothe my foot a little, but it's hard to keep balance. I look down and gasp when I notice how swollen and purple it has become. There is no way it's going to heal in just a day or two, I have to get ice on it right away. I cursed myself for not saying something to Ashton, but the adrenaline from the fear and shock of meeting Lucien, caused me to forget all about the pain until I stepped into the shower and finally allowed myself to relax.

Idiot. You're never going to get out now.

I quickly dry and change back into my clothes. I wonder what I'm going to do for clean clothing if I'm staying for the week. Am I supposed to wear the same thing every day? How can I expect that they have extra clothes for their hostages? That's absurd.

When I reach for the door, I'm confused when it turns easily, completely unlocked. I know for a fact I had locked it after coming into the bathroom, afraid of the others walking in.

Oh, my god. Had someone walked in on me, without me even realizing?

I start to panic and creep out slowly into the bedroom. There is no one in sight, and nothing seems to be misplaced from what I can remember. I walk over and check the bedroom door, relaxing a little to see that it is still locked. A voice at the back of my mind pipes up again.

They could have locked it again when they left. You're a prisoner, remember?

I curse the voice silently, scowling at the cold atmosphere around me. The room no longer feels warm and cheerful, with its brightly painted walls and white wood furniture. Despite no window, when I first arrived, the room seemed cozy. Now it feels bland and empty. I am coming to the full realization that I am a mouse caught in a trap, surrounded by the big bad wolf, and his 3 minion wolves, equally as bad; at least two of them, it seems.

The bed is the only place to sit, and there isn't anything to use as entertainment until I'm brought dinner in 3 hours. No books or even a magazine. The lack of windows is even more depressing; I don't even have a view to stare aimlessly out of. I lay back on the bed and tried to point out weird designs in the bumpy ceiling.

The hours crawl by until there is a small knock on the door, and it swings open, revealing Lucas holding a steaming plate of steak and vegetables. On his other hand, I notice a small stack of books and magazines.

"I figured you would get bored with nothing to do in here, I hope these can help ease the boredom for a little while," he says and places everything on the small end table next to me. I bite my lip, unable to say anything, not even a thank you. My mind is still whirling; despite the large amount of spare time, I have had to think it all out. There is too much going on for my mind to relax.

"Has anyone not survived?" I asked him quietly. He knew exactly what I meant, and chose to remain quiet, a troubled look on his face. His silence answered me much louder and clearer. My fear continued to grow, but I was thankful I was given few distractions for the time being.

Lucas left silently, as I flipped through the stack of reading material. There was a few gossip and celebrity lifestyle magazines, accompanied by a variety of unknown books by authors I had never heard about. Their covers were tattered and worn, telling me of their age and experience. I decided on a book by an author called Danielle Steele, the most interesting-looking book. I was relieved to find out it was a romance book, a genre I was very passionate about.

I flipped through the chalky pages, picking at the still-steaming veggies and meat, trying to contain the drool that filled my mouth when I took a bite of the tender meat. I devoured the plate before I could finish the first chapter and sprawled out on the bed to continue reading. I dived into the book after the first few pages, no longer paying attention to my surroundings and the ticking time.

It was one of the many things I loved about reading, the ability to escape to another world, far away from the reality of the world you're living in. Despite my bizarre and dangerous situation, I was still able to relax my mind and allow my defences to be lowered while I consumed myself with a made-up world, much better than my own.

My life has never felt real, everything seems fabricated, like it was all dreamed up. From my years in a top-notch, luxurious private school, to my three-story, 10-bedroom manor, right down to the clothes I wore on my back. Everything was so perfect, glorious down to the last detail. I never wanted any of it, I never felt like I fit into my own life. Reading was a means to escape from that. Live the life of a rebel girl with nothing, but somehow finds meaning in her life, or the rich girl who is tired of her life and runs away.

I wondered what would have happened, if I hadn't been kidnapped and slowly started to appreciate the small things I had in life before; like comfortability, entertainment, oh and not being held hostage in a windowless room. Would I have run away? I was almost done school, my parents had said I didn't need to work or go to any further school, unless I had decided to, only to prepare me for taking over the family business.

I can go anywhere, for however long I want. Move to a different country for a year, and be a different person, completely erase all my memories from the past. What a life that would be.