Make You Mine [Un-edited Version]

Chapter 6

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Love,

Naya

The baby's room --------->

After Ian left I walked out of the garage and tried to open every window and door but they were locked. Even with my painful burned skin I managed to checked upstairs, downstairs, the garage and the basement but I found nothing. I even tried looking for weapons but there weren't any. That explains why he's only used his fist. I gave up after three hours and decided to watch T.V. but was stopped when I discovered there wasn't a T.V. either, just books on a bookshelf. A good thing was the piano in the living room because I used to take lessons back when I was six so I could play if I get bored.

I got bored from walking around and decided it was time to start dinner. The time is now 4:50 p.m. So that gives me less than 1 hour.

Cooking and I don't get along. It's like putting someone who can't drive behind the wheel, they could kill someone. Well, that's cooking for me. My food could turn out really raw or really burnt. It's deadly. I just hope I can get through this in one piece. Ugh. I make my way to the cabinet and open it. Ow. I pull my arm back and wince in pain, almost forgetting I was branded. The burn is blistering and skin is still peeling off. The blood has dried and the letters 'Ian H' are clear as day. It's worse than a tattoo.

I suck it up and open the cabinet again. It looks like he doesn't do too much cooking because the only food in the cabinet is canned tomatoes, chicken noodle soup, crackers, bread, tuna, and macaroni noodles. I move on to the fridge and it's a little better. There's onions, celery, a pack of turkey, ham, provolone cheese, potatoes, tomatoes, pickles, hot dogs, red wine, water bottles, carrots, milk, fruit, condiments and beer. If he's violent when he's sober I'd hate to see him drunk. Judging by the lack of variety in meals I conclude that he needs to go shopping. Maybe he'll let me out to go to the store and I can get free. When he gets in I'll ask him as politely as I can.

The only thing I can't mess up is a sandwich so that's what I decide to make. There's one problem though, I have no idea what kind of sandwich he likes. Taking a wild guess, I choose the cheese, tomatoes, turkey and ham, and onions. I make him two sandwiches and fix one for myself. My appetite hasn't been the same since he branded me. I was starving before but now I'm indifferent. I force the turkey and cheese sandwich down my throat without another thought. Eating in silence is better than that jerk being here.

I hear the garage door open and I freeze. I'm not sure if I'm supposed to greet him or just stay here and serve the food when he sits down.

"Hey Ava. That looks good on you." He walks in eyeing me up and down. I hold my head down when he stares at the brand.

My body goes from the chair to the wall within seconds. He has me pinned against the wall with one hand pressing down on my aching brand. He smirks at me as if he's hurting me on purpose and I whimper as tears fill my eyes again.

"Two things wrong here." He stares at me expectantly as I furrow my eyebrows.

"W-hat did I do?"

"The question is what didn't you do. But I'll explain it so your dumbass can understand." He rubs his temple then says, "When I complimented you, you held your head down and didn't speak."

Oh, so that's his problem."T-thank you and s-sorry." I mumble as he releases me.

"You're welcome and you're forgiven." He smiles happily at me as I stare at him. "So, what's for dinner?"

"Oh, ummm I made this." I get the plate and hand it to him.

"That's it?" He mumbles, furrowing his eyebrows.

"It's really good. Try it." I encourage.

He surprises me when he takes a bite. He chews slowly while I wait for his reaction. I hope it's good enough.

"I don't want this." My heart beat increases.

"Uhh-uh. I didn't kno- know what you wanted to eat so I made that." I say frightened. Surely he wouldn't hit me over a sandwich. The glass plate shatters on the floor and I back away slowly.

"Ava, Ava, Ava." He rubs his temples. I hate how he says my name; it gives me chills.

"Look, I didn't know what to coo-" I try to explain but he slaps me mid sentence. My head whips to the side and I hold my stinging cheek while looking at him.

"It's Sunday and I had to go into work. When I come home I expect a meal. A good meal!" He yells harshly in my face so I close my eyes and try to stop my quivering lip.

"I'm going to have to teach you since no one has." What does he mean by that? I open my eyes and see that he's at the fridge pulling out the onions, carrots, potatoes, tomatoes and celery. I stand in the middle of the kitchen, too afraid to move. He walks past me and bumps my shoulder while speed walking to the cabinet. He pulls out the canned tomatoes, chicken noodle soup, and crackers and sits them on the counter.

"Come here." I hesitantly walk over to him. He's standing by the stove when a pot is shoved into my chest.

"Run some water into that pot and then set it to boil." He orders. I can hear the knife slicing into the vegetables as he cuts them. Wait, a knife! I feel a smile creep up on my lips.

I walk over to the sink, watch the water rise in the pot, and then set the pot on the stove to boil.

"Good job. You're doing something right." I jump when I feel his strong arms squeeze my tiny waist. He starts trailing kisses down my neck and my reflexes immediately kicks in. Before I can stop myself I shove my elbow into his rib cage.

"For fucks sake!" He shouts while grabbing my hair and pushing me into the counter. My head hits the counter with a loud 'thud' and I can see black spots clouding my vision as I lay on the floor. I rub the back of my head trying to relieve the pain but before I can get up he kicks me in the stomach a few more times, inflicting pain.

"Pl-please sto-stop." I manage to say before I start coughing and groaning. The pain in my stomach feels like getting your fingers slammed in a door repeatedly. I'm sure you can imagine. My stomach feels swollen and I hope he didn't break my ribs. He looks at me with disgust then goes to put the vegetables into the overflowing pot of boiling water. It takes about 30 minutes before the aroma of vegetable soup feels my nostrils. The smell sets my stomach into a growling frenzy and I groan in pain as I try to sit up. Ian seems to be ignoring me on the floor. Well, I can only hope.

"Get up." I'm wrong again. I use the counter to help me try to stand but I fail.

"Get. Up." He demands louder.

"I...can't." I whisper more to myself.

I see his leg go back, preparing to kick me again so I scurry up. The pain is magnified by my sudden movement and I hold my breath because my stomach hurts too badly to inhale.

"Let's eat." We sit down across from each other and begin to eat silently. This soup is amazing but I'll never tell him that.

As soon as we're done he tells me to clean the kitchen then get ready for bed. I'm alone in the kitchen and glad because I dread going upstairs.