Enemies to Lovers

CHAPTER 3

𝗠𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗬

"Welcome home, sweetheart." He chortled, holding the door open for me. Reluctantly, I stepped inside.

"Don't you think I'm a little too small for all of this?" I muttered, trying to buy time. My voice was shaky, but I pushed on. "Plus, I have a disease. You really shouldn't get near me." I let out a fake sneeze, sniffling for effect.

He wasn't amused. "Those lies won't work on me, so I suggest you shut your mouth and come inside." His tone was low, menacing, and I could feel the weight of his gaze on my back as I walked further into the house.

The door closed behind me with a loud click that echoed in my chest. My heart pounded as I looked around the dimly lit hallway. The house was eerily quiet, the air thick with tension. Every step I took felt like I was sinking deeper into a trap.

A trap I hadn't realized I would fall into, with my hands tied up.

"Go upstairs. Your room's on the right," his voice snapped, pulling me out of my thoughts. I turned to see him still standing by the door, arms crossed, watching me like a hawk.

Without a word, I made my way up the narrow staircase. My legs felt like lead, wobbling with every step. Each one heavier than the last.

I had no idea what was waiting for me in that room - my room now, apparently - but the thought of being trapped here with him sent a chill down my spine.

Will he rape me? Will he abuse me?

When I reached the top, I hesitated. My hand hovered over the doorknob before I finally pushed the door open. Inside was a small, sparse room: a bed, a dresser, a window. Nothing else. Great.

I walked to the window first, my breath catching when I saw the bars on the outside. Of course, there would be bars. Why would he leave any chance for escape?

But he's not smarter than me. I'll get out of here, no matter what.

I sat on the edge of the bed, my hands trembling as they fidgeted with the hem of my shirt. The silence in the room was suffocating, the weight of everything pressing down on me all at once. What was I supposed to do now?

Nausea crept up on me. I hadn't eaten much, and with everything happening, I didn't know if I could handle it without throwing up.

A thought crossed my mind. Maybe if I played along and pretended to be compliant, I could convince him to give me some freedom. I could call someone - anyone. The police, my friend. If I had a phone...

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to calm down. I walked back downstairs to where he was sitting. He had changed his clothes and was now watching television. At least he had one.

"Can I at least have a phone?" I called out, trying to sound casual, calm.

He lifted his head, turning to look at me. A smirk played on his face. I wished I could erase it in my own way. "A phone, huh?"

"Just to call my friend. Let her know I'm okay. Please, it's been a while since we've talked, and... and she might think something's wrong. Please."

He chuckled, shaking his head as if I'd told a joke. "Nice try, but I'm not an idiot. You're not getting a phone, so don't ask again."

I pressed my lips together, fighting the urge to argue. It was hopeless. I knew it would be, but still... I had to try. What if I steal his?

His eyes narrowed as he watched me. "What? No smart-ass comment now?"

I didn't reply. What was there to say? Every word out of my mouth just seemed to make things worse. If I could, I'd slap him with a stick.

I returned to my room, sitting on the bed, thinking of ways to take a phone and call the police. My friend couldn't do anything, but maybe if I pretended it was her on the line, he wouldn't know, right?

Seconds later, he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. My stomach flipped as I watched him approach, my instincts screaming for me to get up and run. But there was nowhere to go.

"You don't get to ignore me, Molly," he said, his voice darkening. "When I ask you something, you answer."

I bit my lip, trying to hold back the wave of fear surging through me. I stayed silent, not trusting myself to speak. Because if I said something stupid, I'd get myself in trouble. My mouth always did that to me.

He stepped closer, and before I could react, his hand shot out, slapping me across the face. The force knocked me sideways on the bed, my cheek stinging from the impact. I gasped, clutching my face, but didn't dare make a sound.

"That's a warning." His voice was cold, void of any sympathy. "Next time, it'll be worse. Do you understand me?"

I nodded quickly, tears burning in my eyes as I tried to pull myself together.

"Good," he muttered, walking back to the door. He paused with his hand on the knob, glancing over his shoulder. "You should get some rest. We'll talk more tomorrow."

The door closed with a quiet click, leaving me alone in the room once again. The pain in my cheek pulsed in time with my heartbeat, and I felt the tears spill over, running down my face.

How had my life become this? Just a few days ago, I had dreams - plans for the future. Now, I was trapped here, completely at his mercy. I wiped my face with the back of my hand and looked around the room. I had to find a way out. There had to be a way.

But right now, I was exhausted. My body felt heavy, weighed down by everything that had happened. I lay down on the bed, curling up into a ball, trying to ignore the burning ache in my cheek and the knot of fear twisting in my stomach.

𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑐𝑟𝑦, 𝑀𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠. 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑑𝑜 𝑖𝑡.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I would figure something out. A plan. I needed a plan to escape from here.

But for now, all I could do was survive.

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𝗘𝗱𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝗻: 12/10/2024