He walks out and I sit up. I was fuming. How is it fair that I got treated like a dog!? I've never even been mad like this before. I really wanted to bash his head in. I was shocked by how quick I resorted to violence in my thoughts. I really didn't want to lick this off the floor. This is a wine cellar for goodness sake. I don't know how sick I could get but if I don't he could beat me within an inch of my life. I just want him to let me go and forget about me. I move back against the wall and pull my knees up to my chest. I hug them tightly wishing to go home soon.
He walks back down the steps minutes later and stares at the floor in disbelief then looks at me. I don't even dare try to glare at him. If anything he's done so far has proven anything is that he doesn't care to harm females and I was no exception. I continue to stare at the floor hoping he would not sense my need to defy him.
"Do you like getting beat?!"He starts by hitting me upside my head. It then turns to him kicking me in the ribs and I curl up into a ball. "You are so damn difficult." He pulls me up to kneeling on my hands and knees. I feel his hand on the back of my head as he grabs either side of my face with one and pushes down with the other. He literally started rubbing my face in the food and I knew I would be covered in bruises within the hour. It was hard to breathe and tears were falling down my face. The food didn't wash off though and it was so embarrassing.
The pressure releases and I watch as he grabs a chair and spins it around to where he can lean on the chair back as he watches me. He was going to sit here until I ate the damn oatmeal. The nerve of this guy.
"Eat." He points to the floor. I shake my head. His eyes flame with anger at my disobedience. "I said eat." I lay my head on the floor my hair acting as a curtain from him and my surroundings. It was as if it was trying to protect me. I hear the chair creak as if he got up. I tense up waiting on the blow that will knock me out. I hear his steps get closer to me not that he was too far to begin with. I mean what does he have to be afraid of? Definitely not some girl tied up who couldn't weigh no more than one- hundred and thirty pounds.
I feel him grab my face again forcefully. This had to be happening to someone else. This couldn't be happening to me. He was in my face. I couldn't look away but I could watch his eyes. He looked desperate and angry. His eyes were so brown and his hair was tickling my forehead and he smelt so good. He smelt like the shirt I was wearing. "Do not make me force feed you. Lick this up like the dog you are or I will shove a tube down your throat."
Tears start welling up in my eyes as I lean over and start licking up the breakfast he made me. It was disgusting. I sat up when I finished wiping my face. "Good girl. Don't refuse the food I give you whether it's on the floor or not." He pats my head as he picks up the bowl and spoon from the floor. I was humiliated. I couldn't believe that I just did that.
I sniffle looking down at the shirt. "You know," my voice breaks. "I know this shirt is yours. Why would you give me a shirt of yours to wear but not pants? Or warmer pants?" I asked looking t him. I felt my spirit break a little. I feel it break every day but I had to fight the impending doom in order to survive.
He stops for a second but still with his back facing me. "Because I want you to be cold." He sounded sad and guilty but I wanted to see his face and his eyes. That would tell me what I needed to know.
"If I get too cold, I could get sick. At least get me a blanket." I say my voice quiet, demanding, logical and weak. I was still crying but I needed a damn blanket. He looks at me knowing I'm right and disappears. It seemed like an hour later and he returns with a blanket and a mattress. It was dirty but I didn't care. I would be warm and more comfortable than I have been.
"You were right earlier. You can't get sick. I can't take you to the hospital or your parents will find you and I'll never get the money." He tosses the blanket at me after setting up the mattress in the corner. I shrug and at least he saw the logical side of things. I mean if he wants the money he's got think about how to keep me healthy and me getting sick is not going to help his case.
I watch as he strides away and he's almost to the stairs when I call out. "Can you untie me too?"
He leans down and I see a smirk playing on his lips. "No." I knew it was a long shot but I had to try at least.
"I can't break the glass without you hearing or cutting myself up. Even if I did I still had to find a way out the house. Then I don't know where I am so either way I'm stuck." I still had to try. I don't want to be tied up anymore.
"Beg me then." He is walking back down here and stops five feet away from me.
"Beg you?"
"If you want that rope off you'll beg me. Otherwise I'm going upstairs to watch t.v." Is that what he does all day between hitting me?
I look at him as if he can't be serious. "You are seriously not asking me to beg you to untie me?"
"Um.. yeah that's exactly what I'm asking." He turns around and is almost to the door.
"Will you please untie me Ryan? Please?" It wasn't hard to sound like I was begging. I was desperate enough to get out of here I may as well humiliate myself some more.
"By the way," he says in my ear after he cuts my bonds and gathers them up. "You think you were faking. You should have seen it from my angle." He chuckles walking out the room leaving me slightly more comfortable. I rub my wrists and lay down covering up. The mattress and blanket stunk but I wasn't complaining.
Things stayed the same for a while.Then I would hear parties and meetings. Sometimes I'd hear nothing at all or see him for days. I was going crazy without human contact. When he did come down here it was only to gloat about my father giving him a little bit of money here and there for my ransom. He would explain how he was trying to prolong keeping me here hoping that my father would just give in and give him two million dollars instead of the- as he put it- measly one point two million he needs for his uncle.
I would still get beat if I said something he didn't like. I lost my blanket once. It had to be about two weeks before he gave it back and he made me beg again. Then one night he came down and the air felt different.
"I'm hosting another party tomorrow. The whole house is open. If anyone comes down here then what you need to do is keep quiet. They don't care about my intentions on keeping you but you say something smart they won't hesitate to shoot."
I shivered at the cold tone he used. It was as if life didn't matter to these people. I guess they didn't since that's part of what it's like being in the mafia. It didn't mean Ryan didn't have the authority to stop anyone. It seems to me he is calling the shots. He must be running as interim mafia leader in the absence of his Uncle. I really do feel for him.
I started justifying his actions with the reasoning of Ryan being desperate. I never noticed that I stopped seeing him as much of a monster though. "You do know you could have found another way to get your uncles bail right?" I asked, eyebrows raised when he appeared in the doorway to the cellar.
He walks to me and holds my chin forcing me to look him in the eyes. "I know but I figured this would be faster. Seems to be working." He smirks and I feel his hold tighten. I jerked my face away and sigh inwardly. I was going to have yet another bruise to add to my collection.