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His To Own by Autumn Winchester (11)


Chapter 11

 

Avidya

 

Life went back to normal, or at least what was normal for me. I wasn’t allowed out of the house due to the fact that a number of people were camped outside of the house twenty-four seven. Reporters had shown up just hours after my ‘return’ was released to the media. A few brave souls even tried to come up to the house to get an interview with me. Of course, father flat out said ‘no’ to that. I didn’t have any inkling to talk to anyone as I hid away in my room.

 

I felt caged in once again and there was nothing I could do. I knew Zachariah would come when he thought the timing worked out. He purposely left out when, or how, that would be. Already, knowing what I do know, I almost preferred to be stuck in the apartment. There, I could mostly dress and be who I wanted. Here, I was already uncomfortable in so many ways. Too many to even name. The clothing choices only touched the surface of who father was trying to mold me into since I was born.

 

I didn’t feel like I belonged. My father, once home, began letting everyone he knew know I was found safe and unharmed. He never told anyone how I was found but did it really matter? I was back and surely wouldn’t be leaving again soon. Not till I was married. I was already dreading that time that would be here all too soon for my liking.

 

Father seemed to be on edge, though. I have seen him stressed countless times before and for some reason, it was worse after my return. He wouldn’t permit me, or my mother, to answer the phone or door to anyone. Even for people we knew. I could understand that, but I thought he was going too far.

 

Was he possibly behind my kidnapping? Had he maybe planted the seed? He did seem relieved that I was left untouched, at least, but I could tell he was slightly disappointed that I was returned unharmed.

 

When mom wasn’t drinking, she wouldn’t let me out her sight, fearing I could disappear from the family again. What would she do when I married and living God knows where? I tried to tell her it wasn’t that bad where I was since I was sure it could have been ten times worse.

 

I refused the offer of being looked over at the closest hospital, so my father ended up calling someone he knew that made house visits. Somehow, I was able to get away with not having a full exam, knowing that the mark on my arm would be noticeable. I wore long, or half sleeves, for a reason. I didn’t want to test my father seeing such a mark, fearing what he’d do.

 

Jonas had been adamant about not letting my parents see that mark or Hell would break loose sooner than anyone wanted. I didn’t question him on it, but it could wait. Father’s rage was bad enough on a good day, I wasn’t going to risk it right after my safe return. I knew better than to test him now, or anytime soon.

 

~oOo~

 

A couple of weeks later, I was in the kitchen making dinner, per my father’s request. He thought I needed a reminder on what my life will no doubt consist of once I am married to whoever he chooses. Everything I thought about my life being planned out day by day for years to come, I can’t help but scoff at the idea. It was not going to work out that way, and I damn well was going to make sure it didn’t.

 

Doing household chores was something I expected to do, no matter what, but I refused to let father marry me off. I’d do just about anything.

 

Without hearing from Zachariah for weeks now, I just gathered that whatever he wanted from me, he got. I hadn’t heard a thing from him, and it was probably better that way. My heart gave a small pang at that thought, and I brushed it off. I knew I was attracted to him, but I’d live to see another day. I was pretty sure that many women liked him for his looks alone. I could still picture his dark eyes watching me with amazement and something else I couldn’t name.

 

Unlike the few days before, this time, I overheard my father talking to someone. I tended to not pay attention to who he talked to, knowing it’d likely get me in trouble or have more questions than answers.

 

I didn’t mind making dinner, I just didn’t enjoy it when father hinted how I did things differently or not to his taste. I always made things the way I tended to like instead of the mostly tasteless foods my mom would often cook per father’s wishes.

 

I have yet to get a chance to ask mom, nor did I really know how, about my worries. How was one to ask their parents if I was taken from a woman I didn’t know? I surely couldn’t ask while dad was anywhere close by. I didn’t fancy risking his anger more than I needed to.

 

I had no idea who father had invited over, and I didn’t quite want to know. He was already spinning my story to meet his needs.

 

Putting the grilled BBQ chicken on a white serving dish, and then setting it on the table next to the steamed veggies, my father entered the kitchen, Zachariah following closely behind.

 

“Please set another place for Mr. Melendez,” father spoke in a way of command. “He’ll be joining us for dinner tonight. I’ll go fetch your mother.” Then he left, leaving me alone with his unsaid threats, frozen in place.

 

My heart wasn’t sure if it wanted to slow or speed up by the man’s presence.

 

After a moment, I shook myself and grabbed another place setting. I was surprised when I went to turn to take the plate to the table, Zachariah was nearly right there behind me, scaring me. One of the many things he was good at.

 

“Let me help you,” he smiled, causing my heart to speed up on its own. I hated how my body worked without my say so.

 

By the time that I got my body to move, Zachariah had another place set. It was then that I realized he’d be sitting right next to me. Normally, there would be a place between my parents and me at the round table. With the table only fitting five people, it wasn’t polite to move my own place setting over one.

 

It didn’t take long for both of my parents to return. Mom’s eyes were a bit too bright, hinting that father had done something to her once more. I was sure that was why she was faking a headache once again. At least she was no longer following me like it could be the last day she ever saw me.

 

After we had all sat, and father said a prayer, he turned towards my mom mostly more than me as if I wasn’t even there. I might as well not have been if my gut feeling had anything to say about it.

 

“Mr. Melendez here has helped us a great deal over the years, along with his father.” He seemed proud of that fact. How? Did he not know what this man next to me was capable of? I didn’t know to what extent, but I had a feeling I’d learn soon enough.

 

“Welcome,” mom said with a false smile his way. “Avidya, dear, what wonderful food you made.” She hardly looked at the guest but did shoot a small look my way that I was unable to figure out. Did she know what was going to happen?

 

“Do you cook often, Avidya?” Zachariah asked, turning his full attention to me. Both of his hands were on the table, although my left knee bounced in place.

 

“She cooks at least once a week,” father was quick to answer. “Every woman needs to know their way around a kitchen.” I mentally rolled my eyes at his words as I took a small bite of the food.

 

“True,” Zachariah replied, not removing his eyes from me. “But I’d like Avidya to answer my question.”

 

“I cook often enough,” I muttered out after father waved his hand for me to go ahead and answer.

 

“No need to mutter child,” father said, almost like he was talking to a child and not an adult. I hated how he always was able to make me feel so small.

 

“Are you settling back in well?” Zachariah asked me. “I heard you were missing.”

 

“I guess so,” I answered, playing with my food in front of me. My appetite was now gone thanks to father.

 

“She’s doing just fine,” father spoke up, his voice rough. He wasn’t happy with the fact that Zachariah had his attention on me. Wasn’t that the whole point of having him here for dinner?

 

“She can answer me herself,” Zachariah said, turning to glare at the man. “My views differ greatly from yours. I may not have a say in how the girl was raised, but I like for her to answer herself.”

 

My father gulped at the words. It was the first time I had ever seen my father afraid of someone. Given, he did mask his expression quickly.

 

“So, Zachariah,” mom spoke up before my father could reply with anything. “What do you do?” She was damn good as stopping arguments with others, and it happened more than I liked to admit.

 

“I run a few businesses here and there,” he answered vaguely. “You should eat, Avidya,” he said my way.

 

“I’m not hungry,” I said, glancing up at him. My stomach did another flip as I met his heated gaze for a moment. His dark eyes pinned me to my spot.

 

“She’s never been a big eater,” mom said, explaining my lack of eating. If only that was the reason why I wasn’t eating. I couldn’t possibly eat as much as I’d like to with my father glaring down his nose at me for eating over the allowed limit, let alone eat with a hot man sitting next to me.

 

My mom asked a few more questions here and there while we finished dinner. I only managed to eat a few more bites, not finding the food to be all that appealing. It held no taste from the seasonings I was able to find to put on the chicken. Nothing like the food that was stored in the apartment. I couldn’t believe that my parents ate such tasteless food most days now that I had something better.

 

After dinner, my mom and I cleaned up the kitchen, leaving the two men to do whatever it was that they were doing in my father’s office.

 

“Are you pregnant?” mom asked.

 

I spluttered a cough. “No!” There was no absolute way I could be. Nor would I be anytime soon.

 

“You just haven’t eaten much,” she asked, rinsing a soapy plate in the sink.

 

“Just haven’t been hungry with all the stress,” I answered after regaining back my composure. There was no need to say anything about how Zachariah made me nervous, being here in the house. Nor how father made me feel on edge every time he walked into the same room I was in. I didn’t want to deal with father’s hints about eating too much, either.

 

“Just making sure,” mom trailed off. “Your father is looking at potential husbands,” she said hurriedly after draining the water when there were no more dishes. Her voice was quiet, almost like she needed to get it out before we’d be interrupted.

 

“Figured as much,” I stated. Father had pushed the idea for a number of years, so I wasn’t surprised. I was surprised that he was searching so desperately so soon. Maybe my kidnapping had something to do with it?

 

“He had a couple of men that were scared off by your disappearance,” she went on. “I had hoped he’d let things calm down before he went this far.” She trailed off, scrubbing down the sink.

 

“I know it’d come sooner or later,” I shrugged. “At least I will get to know who’ll I’ll be forced to spend the rest of my life with.”

 

“He’s not that bad, Viddie,” mom said, using my very seldom used nickname. “You’ll probably do what you do now, for the most part.  Zachariah seems like he’ll be the best of your choices so far.”

 

“You know I won’t get any say,” I said, willing my tears to stay at bay. “But it won’t be any different than being on house arrest now.”

 

I wasn’t going to say that I was slightly looking forward to being with Zachariah. Already, he showed me more care than my own parents ever did, and with fewer rules to abide by. I was pretty sure that when the time came, Zachariah was my best choice to actually be happy in life.

 

 

 

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