Stranded Ch. 16

Welcome to my dark little corner of the universe! DISCLAIMER: like nearly everything I write, this story consists of many dark, fucked-up, non-consensual themes, violence of all kinds, imprisonment, kidnapping, and occasionally even a little bit of torture. If any of this or terrible grammar offends you, then stop now, because this story isn't for you.

"Son-of-a-bitch!" I cursed, tossing the casserole on top of the stove with a loud bang. I quickly ran my fingertips beneath cold water, hoping I didn't burn them too badly. The timer's shrill beeping hit the panic center of my brain and the last thing I wanted to do was burn the Shepherd's Pie; it was one of his favorites. I inspected my fingertips to find them a bit pink, but nothing I couldn't deal with.

"There is no need for such a foul mouth. You'll set a bad example for the children." Sam sat at the table, texting away on his flip phone. I was curious who he was talking to, but I did not bother to ask. It was not a wife's place to know her husband's business and since Sam's return, I had been very careful to avoid his bad side. Neither he nor Arioch had bothered to fill in the hole I had been left to die in, and until they did, I was not going to chance being thrown back in.

"My apologies, the oven mitts seem to have disappeared." I quickly dished our plates and sat down. I kept my hands folded in my lap, smoothing out the creases in my bubblegum pink dress as I waited for him to take his first bite. Some of the seams were uneven, but it had been my first time making one of the stupid dresses, so I gave myself a little slack. Perfection was not important he said, just that real effort was made. I watched in anticipation as he brought his fork to his mouth. Shepherd's Pie wasn't a very complicated recipe, but I was still nervous. I wanted him to like it, at the same time, I hated that I wanted his approval at all. When Sam first returned, he had not been very happy to see me. I was sure he was going to toss me right back into my grave when he grabbed me by the hair and began dragging me downstairs. Instead he had locked me in the basement which is where I had slept every night since. He barely touched me, let alone looked at me. He became indifferent, like the warmth and kindness had been sapped from his body and I had nobody to blame but myself.

I felt my shoulders relax when he nodded in approval. He had been spending a lot more time out in his garage, and while the vehicles he worked on came and went, there was always something that needed to be fixed. I never asked who they belonged to; I did not really want the answer. Sometimes the cars were brought to him, other times he had to take his truck out and fetch them. Those were the times he kept me completely bound, not even enough slack to itch my nose if I wanted. I spent most of those times napping.

"They're around here somewhere, I suggest you find and keep better track of them. I will not have you burning what belongs to me." He meant me, his property. I had ceased being a person to him anymore. Arioch said it was Sam's way of coping with my betrayal.

"You're right, husband, I will do better. I would like another set if that is okay. It wouldn't hurt to have some extras." Though I did not believe he deserved manners, I feared that cold dark hole in the ground even more.

"You are allowed to request things, just don't expect everything you request to be granted. I will have my mother teach you how to make them. Besides, I believe you still owe my sister a girl's night." Though Sam visited his mother and sister almost three nights a week, I had yet to see them since the conclave's visit. I had completely forgotten about girl's night. She is not going to be happy with you. She had warned me not to run, not to break her brother's heart. And I had already tried twice since then. Maybe you will die permanently this time.

"That sounds wonderful." I replied with a forced smile. Though the image of her holding that blade still flashed in my mind.

"Great. We'll head over after dinner."

The sky had already darkened by the time we headed out. I wore the chain locked around my neck; the loose end held in his hand like a leash. True to his word, there had yet to be a moment where I wasn't secured to something. Even in the hours we spent together, he said it made him feel more at ease. When I brought up being trapped in a house fire, he extended the reach of the chain into the back yard, I could just reach the hounds cage and call him in for meals. The scars on the bottom of my foot were still tender, but it felt good to be walking after days of pacing the inside of the house. Though I did take advantage of the staircase when he was in the shop and could not hear my chain dragging behind me as I jogged up and down.

"There's something I should tell you before we get there." He stopped immediately and turned around.

"What now?!"

"The morning after...after we buried them, I woke to your sister holding a knife to my throat. She was angry I tried to leave; I am afraid she may be upset with me."

"Then I suppose you will have to earn her forgiveness. She is your little sister now too, you gotta find a way to get along. Teach her to respect you. If you cannot make her, then she will not do it. If she attacks you, you have permission to defend yourself. She is not a man, nor is she a First Wife; my only rule is that you don't kill or cripple the little brat."

"First Wife? What does that mean?" He smiled as we continued towards his mother's cabin.

"Just what it sounds like. As my first wife, you will oversee the other wives, the house, the children. I will rely on you to keep my house in order. It also means their poor behavior and actions will reflect on you as well. You notice Aunt Mary is usually the one shouting orders? She's Dale's First Wife. Creates good incentive to get along and work together." Or resent me. I was still nervous, just because I could not kill her, does not mean she would be following the same rules. I wiped my feet on the welcome rug before stepping inside.

"Big brother!" Eliza leapt into his arms and he wrapped her in a tight bear hug. She glared at me from over his shoulder, if looks could kill I would be dead where I stood.

'What is she doing here?"

"Keeping her pinky promise, I told you she would."

"What makes you think I want a girl's night anymore? Especially with a nasty little liar!" Sam released her and ruffled his hand through her hair.

"Because you are not exactly swimming in options, my dear sister. KitKat is not going anywhere, I told you that. And just like I told her, your sisters now. So, forgive her already and break out the nail polish." Eliza glared back at me and I returned with a small smile. Please don't kill me.

"I-I could braid your hair if you'd like, though I'm not as good giving them to others as I am giving them to myself." I offered.

"No, I'm giving you a makeover first, if you sit still I might just let you give me one. You gonna take this thing off big brother? It's not long enough to reach my room." she pouted.

"Not a chance I'm leaving the two of you unsupervised. You can bring your stuff out here."

"It can't be Girls Night if you're sitting smack in the middle of it."

"Well, that's what you get, take it or leave it." he replied through clenched teeth as he locked the other end of the chain to the metal loop installed in the baseboard. She glared at him and stomped off to her room, slamming her door. At first, I thought I had gotten off the hook, maybe I wouldn't have to spend the evening pretending to be nice. He clenched his fists tightly, but I could see his lips counting to ten. Eliza returned a few minutes later with a plastic tub filled with all the things she could possibly need. She grabbed me roughly by the shoulders and sat me down on one of the dining room chairs.

"There's not a lot to work with." she grumbled. Though I winced when she began brushing and braiding, I managed not to make a peep. Her brother pulled a lot harder, so the joke was on her if she was trying to make it hurt.

"Was the doll he made at least pretty?" she asked with a sigh as she rubbed at the short patch of hair, as if wondering how best to hide it.

"I thought so, he has an amazing talent."

"I have a few dolls now, I just let my hair grow really, really, really long and then he can cut a lot off without making me look like...well, a boy." I ignored her jab. It was not as if I had a choice in the matter and certainly did not have enough time to grow it out in preparation. When she declared herself finished, she pulled out her manicure set.

"When was the last time you took care of your nails?" she demanded. I stared at my nails and sighed. My nails were not normally something I cared about, and after being stranded, it had hit the bottom of the list of priorities. He didn't allow me to cut my own nails, that was something he did for me, and he always cut them too short, but I suppose it was to save himself from being scratched during our scuffles.

"Too long to be honest; that's why I've been looking forward to this." Her hand suddenly crushed mine as she yanked me forward.

"Don't lie to me! I ain't stupid! I know you do not really want to be here. And I know what you did. You broke your pinky promise." My eyes glanced quickly around, making sure there was nothing sharp within her reach.

"I-I-I made a mistake, and you don't have to believe me, but it's never happening again."

"You said that last time, deceiver."

"I am not your wife, Eliza. And your brother can handle me himself." He scoffed at my comment, mumbling a 'barely' under his breath. She narrowed her eyes, trying her best to stare me down but I did not dare look away from her bright sapphire gaze. After a minute she loosened her grip, smiled, and began filing my nails as if our exchange had never happened. She smoothed them out, making them look somewhat decent before pulling out her bag of polish. She chose a bright neon pink color, a color I was surprised to even see in her collection. Once she finished with my fingers, she started on my toes. It would have felt like pampering if she were not treating me like some living doll.

"How did you learn to paint so well?" She looked up at me, confused as if I had just asked her the most obvious question. I was simply trying to make light conversation. I did not want her or Sam to think I wasn't giving Girl's Night 100% of my effort.

"My mother of course, didn't your mother teach you?" I shook my head, ignoring the small pang in my chest.

"My mother died when I was still little. My father taught me. He used to let me practice on his toenails while he read to me." Usually it was Charlotte's Web, but sometimes if he were a bit behind on grading, he had read me students' papers.

Eliza smiled mischievously as she looked up at Sam with wide eyes.

"Oh, big brother...." she sang.

"Not gonna happen," he interrupted.

"Pretty please? Nobody but us will even see them!"

"No." Eliza's lower lip began to tremble as her eyes filled with giant tears instantly. She was good, even I could not make myself cry on command with such ease.

"You never let me have anything!" she shouted, crossing her arms. Classic pouting but seeing an adult do it was a strange sight.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! I was a good big brother and brought you my wife so you could do her nails. What do you want to do my nails for?"

"It would be fun. If you let me paint your nails, I swear to never kill any of your wives ever again. Cross my heart. You can even take it off when you get home. It might even cheer me up and you won't let me have it." she whined. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at the obvious manipulation, but it worked because he sighed and lifted his feet into the air.

"Alright, fine. No fancy crap, one color and nothing girly!" She clapped her hands together gleefully and began furiously undoing his laces while I sat there, gratefully forgotten.

"Look at the things I do for you." He glanced at me when he said it. Was I supposed to feel honored? She had not proven herself exactly stable, she could go back on her word just as easily as I could.

"Mother, I need fresh hot water. When is the last time you cut these talons, big brother?"

"Don't exaggerate, it hasn't been that long." It was interesting to witness that even in psycho cult families, they had good old sibling bickery.

"When you are finished with that, mother, I would like you to help my wife make another set of oven mitts. Apparently, ours have grown legs and walked away."

"Well, that's just stupid, oven mitts can't grow legs. I thought you married a smart heathen."

"She has her moments."

I ignored their egging and joined Skye at the table where she had already pulled the materials out. She had a few bundles of different fabrics including the cotton filling. I cringed when I recognized the fruit salad fabric. So, she is the one to thank for that awful dress. Wasn't going to pick that, last thing I needed was a daily reminder of my final failure.

"The one with pumpkins looks nice." It had a nice Fall feeling to it, the colors matched those outside. I watched and followed her instructions, they were simple enough to make, and while she let me trace the fabric, I had to watch her cut the fabric and use the sewing machine from across the table. When we made a second pair, she walked me through stitching them by hand. I had nearly finished when I was interrupted by Eliza's screams.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Let go!"

"What did I say dammit!?!?" Sam demanded; he had his hand wrapped tightly in her hair as he gave her head a good shake.

"But...it's so pretty!" she whined, doing her best to cover her giggles in between cries. He gave her another violent shake, this time making her wince, a few tears falling free.

"You directly disobeyed me! You are not a little girl anymore, dammit. How can I give you the responsibility of a husband if you cannot listen to simple instructions? And you are setting a bad example for my wife. Go to your room, girl's night is officially over." He threw her backwards towards her bedroom door, and she landed on her elbows, her eyes turned dark as she stood, sniffling.

"You already promised me a husband, you pinky promised; if you go back on your word now, I will make you sorry." Then she stomped to her room and slammed the door, her things left abandoned. He snapped his fingers at me and pointed to the ground beside him.

"Come take this crap off, you encouraged this." I had to bite my lip to prevent myself from laughing as I approached. She had chosen a dark color alright, but the black polish was filled with tiny silver glitter.

"How is it you didn't notice until she was done?" He looked up at me with angry eyes, the change had been so fluid I almost missed it. Sam was gone, leaving his darker half in his place.

"Had our eyes focused elsewhere." Meaning me. Despite the fact the chain was secured, he remained vigilant. You will never earn his trust back. I knelt by his feet, taking out the polish remover and cotton balls and got to work.

"Did your father really let you paint his nails?" he asked suddenly. It always unnerved me how he knew things that happened without him. Unless Sam never came back. He had played Sam before and quite convincingly too.

"Yes. My mother didn't have a lot of time or energy for things like that."

"What else did he teach you?"

"Pretty much everything, how to ride a bike without training wheels, swimming, tying my shoes, balancing a checkbook, driving, changing my own tires, things like that."

"You miss him." It was not quite a question, a statement and when he looked into my eyes for confirmation I quickly looked away. Thinking about him always made me miss him, I doubted that would ever stop.

"Doesn't matter, this is where I belong, this is my family now." It seemed to be my new affirmation at this point.

"You mentioned he was sick. What's wrong with him?"

"Stage 4 Lung Cancer." Liar! But the last thing I wanted to do was open up to him about my father.

"Why were you in school instead of taking care of him?" I grimaced, a question I had asked myself often.

"He insisted I get an education. He hired a nurse that comes out a couple times a week to tidy the place up, prepare his meals, take care of his needs. But I'd rather not talk about him if it's all the same to you." Life would be easier if I could forget. He did not ask any more questions after that and I was grateful. Wishing for something that I could not have was not going to help me move on. When I was finally finished removing the polish, he hugged his mother goodbye and we left, my chain in hand. I felt a little bad girl's night was over so quickly, even if she was kind of psycho. Sam had been right when he said she was not swimming in options. She was isolated from even her own family. Most of which thought she was dead, and I knew quite well what it felt like to be alone. The chorus of crickets and frogs were the only sound to be heard as we walked home, but I found it soothing. Back at school the only sounds to be heard were loud music, parties or Stacy having sex. I had been saving my change for a nice pair of noise canceling headphones, but that jar was back at my dorm. Along with the rest of your life. The end of my house chain was outside in the yard waiting, the metal cold as he locked it into its proper place and released the one around my neck.

I rolled my shoulders as the weight slid away and he held open the screen door for me. I was only a few steps inside when he stomped down on the chain, halting me with a painful jerk that almost landed me flat on my face, metal biting into my ankle. I turned around apprehensively. He took the newly made oven mitts from my hands and set them on the counter. He pressed the lever to the trash can, opening the lid and my stomach dropped. Arioch looked me dead in the eye as he pointed to it wordlessly.

"I-I don't understand."

"Don't play stupid with me, you know exactly what I want you to do." He definitely knows. I swallowed past the lump in my throat and after taking a few steps closer I reached in, shoving past the slimy potato skins and other miscellaneous garbage. When I reached the oven mitts I thought I had hidden so carefully, I pulled them out, my lower lip already trembling.

"You would have had better luck hiding them in one of the cupboards. Though I do applaud your use of bleach to try and cover up the smell of burnt fabric. It may have fooled Sammy, but I am not Sammy, am I sweetheart?" No, he was not. Even when Sam was in control, Arioch seemed to always be there, just hovering beneath the surface. Nothing got past him. I had turned on the wrong burner and by the time I smelled the small fire it had been too late. I had been lucky to put it out in time. They were useless with only half the fabric, so I had tossed them before realizing they were his only pair.

"You knew the whole time, didn't you?" He gave me a look that said, what do you think?

"The lies never stop with you, do they?" he sighed as he yanked the decimated mitts from my hands, and tossed them onto the counter.

"I w-was afraid to tell you the truth." I dreaded doing anything wrong, anything that might upset him. And nearly burning the house down, there was no way he would believe that was accidental.

"Little late for confessions." I fell to my knees, holding onto the leg of his pants as I looked up imploringly.

"I didn't mean to, I'm really sorry, please don't put me back in there." I begged. It was the only reason I had tried to hide them in the first place. It was a stupid mistake. He sighed in frustration, his hand cupping the side of my face.