His Iris | ✓

Chapter 39

Three Weeks Later
-
Iris POV

I groaned and sat upright only to see that no one had come yet. My joints cracked as I grimaced. The memory of her beating me up still made me want to throw up again. The bitter taste lingered in my mouth and I hated it.

Normally at this time they would bring breakfast or something edible. It seems as if they must have forgot about me. Not that I mind, I'd rather not face their pent up anger. A lot has happened in these three weeks. The truth was far from what I was told. I guess you could say that my whole life was a lie. At first I didn't believe it, but the look in his eyes told me otherwise.

"I'm not your father, bitch. Don't expect me to pity you or feel bad for this. You deserve it. Your mother deserves it, but she's not here, is she? You're by yourself, and that's how it will ever be."

His words stung, no doubt. But I didn't know how to react. So much has already happened, the news didn't faze me. No wonder he treated me like shit. But at that time he himself didn't know, up until now. I don't know who told him, but that didn't matter. All the little emotion or sadness, I guess you could call it pity, that I held for him is gone. How dare he say that I ruined his life, when we both know that it was the opposite. I'm done with creating this narrative in my mind that he could change. And he has, but definitely not for the better. But should I really be that surprised? He's been this way for a while, I didn't even think that it could get worse, but it did.

One question that still lingered around, taunting me, making me question my mother as well. Who was my real father? Mom has been with Sam, Howard, and now another one? There was another man that she was with? Without my father knowing? Without the love of her life, Howard, knowing? How must he feel about this? Does he even know? If things weren't already twisted enough, this is the cherry on top.

I don't even know who my real father is. Hell, he could be dead and I wouldn't have a clue. Mom still didn't tell me the truth. To think that the trip to California was a success. I scoffed. She didn't even tell me about this. About how Sam wasn't even my father. About who my real father was. What a great mother. I rolled my eyes. I would have to deal with her explaining this to me later, but the thought that she might not be able to gave me chills. The kidnapper, mysterious woman, and Sam clearly wanted me dead. That was enough to know that tomorrow isn't promised. It's been three weeks now, enough time for them to already have come up with something. Enough time for Xavier to find me. My heart ached at the thought of him. These three weeks felt like three months.

Miserable. Torturous. Sad. Abusive.

I reassured myself, every night, that Xavier would find me. And now three weeks later, nothing. He hasn't found me. Will he ever find me? Will this end? The torture, the pain, will it ever end? Will it end with me dying?

I groaned at the thought. The baby was kicking too much recently, I can't even keep track of my due date. It was planned to be around in a month, but now that three weeks have gone by you could only guess how much time I have left. I hoped my prayers would finally be heard so Xavier could find me in less than a week. If not, I don't want to think about what would happen. Our baby will be born under these horrible circumstances. That's nothing like Xavier and I planned. Nothing.

The doorknob rattled and I flinched at the sudden sound. A figure came in but it wasn't easy to decipher who it was. Finally, the lights were flicked on. The dark haired and frail looking woman looked at me in... pity? Sadness? All I could see was that she was disappointed and saddened at something. Probably the sight of me. I reeked of sweat and a stench that you could smell a mile away. That's what happens when you don't shower for three weeks. Not that I had the choice to do so, anyway.