The Family Origin

Chapter Fourteen: MAISIE POV

 It was a mistake. My mind was focused on my stupidity, and my terrible decisions played in a loop. How could I be ignorant enough to believe they were no longer watching? Every night Joseph was downstairs waiting for me to try and escape. I did not even take a moment to check the kitchen. If I had taken a quick look behind me, I could have formed some excuse before going back upstairs. Joseph was lurking in the shadows and waiting for me to leave.

I did not fight against the restraints for long. The rope was rough against my flesh. I struggled to pull myself free while Miles was sleeping, but the pain was too sharp. Warm beads rolled down my arms. I presumed it was sweat, but the metallic smell told me it was blood. A strip of pain ran between my shoulder blades, and I could not shift in a way that would alleviate the ache. I was unable to sleep as the pain increased and became unbearable.

Miles's alarm clock went off, signaling that I had survived to the morning. Miles was quiet as he moved around the dark room. I closed my eyes and licked my dry lips.

My mind was focused on Joseph's words last night. This situation was not normal, but what was I running away to? There was nothing for me outside this house. I was alone now that my grandmother was dead. No one was waiting for me. Amos was probably the only person who noticed I was gone because he no longer had someone to harass.

Miles turned on the oil lamp on the nightstand, providing the room with a faint glow. His brows furrowed as he leaned in closer to the bed. I tilted my chin up to see him drag his fingers along the dried streams of blood on my skin.

"Please." My throat was so dry that my voice cracked. This did not sound like the Maisie I knew.

Without a word, he reached for my wrists. Every time the rope shifted across my raw flesh, I hissed in pain. The burn was so terrible that my hands went numb. Once I was freed, I stretched my sore arms.

"You should get clean," he said.

My arms wobbled as I tried to push myself to the edge. The pain had caused my strength to disappear. Miles wrapped his arm around my waist to help me stand. My feet stumbled as he dragged me out of the room and down the hall. There was no point in fighting against his grip.

He warned me that I only had two minutes in the bathroom. When I was done, I sat on the edge of the bathtub. My hands trembled as I looked down at the torn flesh of my wrists.

Miles did not knock before coming into the bathroom with a wet towel in his hands. He kneeled in front of me and grabbed my arm. He was rough as he washed the blood off my skin. A jolt of pain shot through my body each time he hit the open wounds. I tried to pull away, but he refused to let go.

Joseph and Clara's voices could be heard through the thin walls as they went to the kitchen. Miles grabbed two bandages and wrapped them around my wrists. He remained on his knees and watched me as I stared down at my burning wrists. He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear, and his fingers lingered along my jaw. The mixture of dirt, sweat, and blood had caused my skin to itch.

"Are you hungry?" Miles asked.

I nodded, and he stood. He slid his arm around my waist and pulled me to my feet. I stumbled when he pulled me into his chest. He pressed his lips against my forehead. The action was soft, and I could not stop myself from melting into his body. All the tension left my muscles, and I relied on his arms to stay standing. He pulled me in closer, and it was a crushing embrace.

"Can I have some water?" I asked.

"Of course," he said.

He kissed my temple again before loosening his hold. My knees buckled, and I grabbed fistfuls of his shirt to support myself. He chuckled, and held onto my elbows. When he pulled me into the hall, Joseph was waiting for us. He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. Miles dragged me toward the staircase, but Joseph stepped in front of us to block us from the kitchen.