𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘯𝘦𝘥

𝘍𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

The bloody knife sat in Addison's hand as she cautiously rested on the bed.

"You wanted to talk," Addison ignored the ache in her wrists from the cuffs digging into her skin, her fingers tightening around the handle of the blade ever so slightly as the woman moved to sit in front of Addison on the bed, "so talk."

"My father knows what you're capable of," the woman pulled a key from her pocket, gesturing towards Addison's wrists, with weary eyes Addison slid them over to her, letting the woman release her completely from her shackles, "it's not safe for you here."

"It was never safe for me here."

"Papa considers you unhinged," Addison bristled at the statement, a sad smile being sent towards her from the woman sitting on her bed, "I want to help you get out of here, but first I want you to promise me a few things and then answer some questions."

Addison knew very well this could be a trap, but the woman hadn't lunged for the knife, hadn't tried to make her feel threatened. And in those light blue eyes, Addison saw hope, this woman wanted her help, and it couldn't hurt to hear her out. But before either of them could say anything else, steps were echoing in the room, the jingle of keys sounding, Addison jumped off the bed, shoving the knife under her pillow before yanking the woman up, shoving her into the bathroom and shutting the door right as the guard came in. Addison felt the hatred in him as her tray of food was in his hand, and as she went to ask the question that had been heavy on her mind since the knife went into the man's abdomen, the tray came flying at her.

That answered her question. 

Her arms crossed in front of her face as hot soup and bread landed on her body, a pained cry leaving her lips as it scalded her cheek before falling to the ground. Not that she was hungry but she realized how much hatred she had harbored in them, and she was going to take the wrath of all of it, she deserved it for killing a man, but she recognized now how much more danger she was in. As the guard stalked away, slamming the hatch shut to her prison, she turned to open the bathroom door, the woman appearing with a cool rag to press to Addison's red cheek. "What's your name?" The words were hissed out as the woman pressed the rag against her burnt skin, leading them back to the bed.

"Luella," when the back of Addison's knees hit the mattress, she sank down slowly, Luella sitting next to her, "Now will you hear me out? Because when he gets home in a day it's only going to get worse."

Addison didn't doubt that, turning her head slightly to look at Bucky's biological aunt, "How old were you when your sister died?"

"I want to say twelve, I never met Winnifred, Papa, and Mama had me much later in life, as a fill-in for the daughter that they lost. But I was never loved like she was, I was purely meant to take her place so it wouldn't hurt Papa's reputation," Luella chuckled, "men and their fragile egos," Addison smiled as she took the rag from Luella, keeping it pressed on her cheek, "I think I'm only a few years older than Winnifred's oldest, but she didn't know about me, from what I heard of her, Winnifred would've come back for me, she wouldn't have wanted anyone else under our papa's thumb."

Addison was putting the pieces together, looking over at Luella as everything finally clicked. "You want me to help you get out."

"I want my daughter to get out, she's six and has seen so much death at her young age. I don't want her numb to it, I want her to know how precious life is."

"I can't take her with me if I leave," Addison whispered, tucking her foot under her thigh as she turned fully to face Bucky's aunt, "it's going to be hard enough for me to get back into the country alone without documentation, bringing a child in that isn't mine would send me to jail and her right back here."