She's Broken.

Danger

*Kori's POV*

I woke up to the tangerine sunlight glistening straight on my face. For a second, I thought I was in my bed again, but memories of the night wrapped around me, with Brayden's arm wrapped around my waist. Chills shot down my spine at the thought of having to spend the day working as his housewife. I knew that it was gonna take a lot more effort than words could describe, because it was either do it perfect, or die.

I turned over to face Brayden. I had to admit, he looked attractive, and very at peace and almost nonpsychotic at that point. His eyelids fluttered; then opened completely. The brilliant turquoise stared into my soul, and for a split second, I thought maybe being Mrs. McCann wasn't going to be as hard as I thought.

His grip around my waist tightened. He brought me in for a kiss. But I wasn't ready to kiss him yet.  How could I? He kidnapped me, and is threatening to kill me. That would overshadow anyone's feelings for someone. I could see that when I denied him the kiss, it angered him.

"Kiss me. Remember what I said last night? Do what I tell you or die, Kori. Only I can have you."

I lightly touch my coral lips to his, trying to resist the urge to throw up. So much for enjoying the life of Mrs. McCann. I wish that Brayden could just accept the fact that this is not what I wanted. I mean, we hardly knew each other.

All the thoughts of what could possibly happen ran through my head as my lips were still interlocked with his. What if he killed me? What if he got killed? What if he raped me? What if, what if, what if?

He was the one to break off the kiss, thank goodness. I watched him pull back the plush covers and stand up to stretch. He grabbed a fluffy towel out of a drawer in the dresser that was located in the corner of the room and made his way to the attached bathroom.

"I'm going to take a shower," he said, before opening the door. "Your list of things you need to do today is on the fridge. If you even think about skipping out on them, or running away, remember, I'm not afraid to kill you."

Then he turned the brass handle and entered the spacious bathroom. I stood up and picked out a comfortable teal t-shirt out of the dresser and some black sweatpants.

Making my way back down the wooden stairs, thoughts raced through my mind once again. Maybe I could just kill myself. My foot hit the last step and I turned left into the kitchen. The fridge was placed on the right-hand corner of the room, and a long wooden counter went from the edge of the fridge, to the other corner of the room, and turned to line the left wall. The kitchen was fully stocked. There was a coffee pot, waffle maker, toaster, and all the other kitchen-y appliances you could think of. The stove was located in the center of the counter on the back wall, and the oven was located directly under it. A simple, small table sat placed in the middle of the room.

I walked to the fridge and took a look at the piece of paper magnetized to it. Among the many list of chores, the few that stuck at me were do the dishes, clean the bathroom, tend the garden, and be my bitch.

Only heaven knows what that could mean, but I didn't like all the possibilities. So I picked the first thing on the list to start with, make me breakfast. I searched and scoured the cupboards for something to make, but nothing sounded good. The last cupboard I looked in, just next to the hallway on the left wall, had a bag of pancake mix in it.

"Pancakes it is." I whispered to myself.

I could still hear the rush of water in the pipes, so Brayden was still taking his shower. In a cupboard next to the oven, I was able to locate pots and pans. I pulled out a cast iron skillet and set the stove to high to get the it hot. I layed the pan on the charcoal colored burner that was slowly getting to be a rosy pink, and opened the door to the fridge. I located the butter and got some to melt in the skillet. Then I grabbed the milk to add to the pancake mix.

Just as I was adding the mix to the pan, I heard the water turn off. My anxiety level heightened to a new extreme, and I accidentally spilled a tiny bit of mix on the floor.

Quickly, I tried to locate a towel to clean it up. I couldn't find one, though, not in the kitchen. How the fuck am I supposed to clean this up? I walked down the hall until I located what looked like a closet. I turned the handle and saw that I was correct. I grabbed a towel and went back into the kitchen. I wiped up the pancake mix and returned to making the rest of breakfast.

When I was done, I brought it up to Brayden. He was in bed, watching t.v.

"Here you go." I cheerfully said as I set down the plate on his lap. "Fresh hot pancakes. And I made bacon too."

The fury stretched across Brayden's face as I set down the pancakes. He grabbed the plate and threw it at the wall, smashing it to pieces.

"What was tha-"

I didn't get to finish my sentence because Brayden stood up and slapped me across the face. I fell to the ground and put my hand to my cheek.

"I HATE PANCAKES! YOU COMPLETE AND UTTER IDIOT. YOU'LL BE LUCKY IF I DON'T KILL YOU RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW. YOU FUCK UP. CAN'T YOU DO ANYTHING RIGHT?"

"H-How was I supposed t-to know?" I stuttered.

I didn't even realize I was crying until the tear drop hit my hand. I felt so numb inside that I didn't even know what was going on, really.

"Get up." He growled.

I heard the words but my state of mind made them sound distant, like I was in another dimension. It wasn't until I felt the hair ripping out of my skull as he dragged me up from the floor that I snapped back into reality.

"I said to get up, bitch."

I felt myself whimper from the pain. The tears were rushing, blinding my vision. The last thing I remember was something extremely hard hitting the side of my forehead, and then nothing, absolutely nothing.

It was pitch black for a while. And then I  was having this strange dream that I was running through a corn maze. Brayden was on my heels, chasing me. He kept getting closer and closer, and I could feel his big hand clench around my wrist for a split second, before he let go and stopped running. In the dream, I hadn't registered that he had stopped just yet, and I fell into a hole. I fell for what felt like eternity before finally hitting something solid.

That's when I came to. I woke up with chains binding me to a table and had no clue where I was, with a major headache.. But I knew I needed help.

A familiar voice spoke from the shadows, piercing my skull and only worsening the pain in my temples. But it wasn't his voice, but more of what he said that sent shivers down my spine.

"Welcome back, you fucking piece of shit. Ready to be my bitch?"