Madison
So that’s it, then.
I am a prisoner.
A captive.
I am a kept fucking woman and Bronx is going to kill me.
I suspected as much, but there’s a difference between feeling like you’re going to die and actually knowing. Him keeping me as a prisoner? That can only mean one thing. Now I know. I don’t think that’s better than simply suspecting that was my fate.
I test the chains, jerking my wrists forward and side to side. My wrists are enclosed in a pair of metal cuffs that have some sort of lining on the inside. They’re soft and don’t hurt my skin, but the locked metal on the outside means I’m definitely not going to be able to break out of these.
The cuffs are attached to a long chain. Bronx was generous when he tied me up. I definitely have enough room to move around, so that’s what I do. I wiggle off the bed and drop to my feet and then I walk around the little room. The chain is long enough for me to reach the bathroom and the bedroom door, but I don’t think I’ll be able to go out of the bedroom. Still, I open the door and peek out into the hallway.
I can’t see anyone, and I certainly can’t hear anyone. That doesn’t mean much, though. Shifters are good at being quiet when they want to be, apparently. Sneaky fucks. After waiting for a moment to make sure no one is lurking around, I try to move out into the hallway, but I can’t. The chain doesn’t give me that much room. I pull a few times, just to see if I can break it somehow, but nothing happens.
Reluctantly, I go back into the room and close the door. At least no one can sneak up on me. I’ll definitely hear them coming. Maybe. I’ll at least have warning when they open the door. I walk around the room, exploring a little, touching things I know I’m not supposed to.
This is Bronx’s bedroom.
It’s his.
It’s obvious.
He didn’t bring me to a jail or to some random house. He brought me to his bedroom and he chained me up here. My emotions are sort of all over the place. Maybe he likes me. Maybe he hates me. Maybe he’s keeping me here because he doesn’t really want to kill me. Maybe that’s just wishful thinking and there’s a chance he just thinks I’ll escape from somewhere else.
“Think, Madison,” I tell myself. Surely there must be a way out of here. I tug on the chain some more, but nothing happens. Walking around the bedroom, I start opening drawers and looking for anything that might help me: weapons, knives, spare keys. Anything.
Only, there’s nothing.
It’s just clothes and books and things that aren’t going to help me break the window.
The window.
I move to it.
It’s small, and high, but the chain almost reaches, and I can look out of it. I have to go backwards and look over my shoulder to see out of the window, but I can see. It’s mid-day now and the sun is high.
It looks bright outside, sunny.
And I wonder, briefly, if I’ll ever again feel the sun on my face.
No one warns you what being a captive is like. Yeah, I knew the woods were forbidden, but I never thought I’d be taken or captured. I thought maybe a bear might attack me, but a wolf? And one who has an attitude? Yeah. That didn’t cross my mind. Not so much.
The worst part is that I don’t have any way to contact Eva. I can’t reach out. I can’t call her. I can’t get a message to her. There’s literally nothing I can do to let her know that I’m okay, that I’m only trying to save her, and that I’ll find a way back to her.
This guy isn’t going to kill me.
He might want to.
He might have a plan to.
He might even start to, but he’s not going to succeed. There’s no way. I’m not ready to die yet and I’m certainly not ready to die at the hands of an asshole. Granted, he might normally be a nice guy. Maybe he’s just saving his gruffness for me because I pissed him off so badly. It’s possible. Any of it is.
I’m not about to die in Shifterville, though.
I’m going to make it back to Eva if it’s the last thing I do.
*
The day passes slowly. Bronx was smart enough not to leave my bag in here, but he did drop my book on the dresser. I didn’t notice until after he’d already gone, so I couldn’t properly thank him. Just because he kidnapped me doesn’t mean I’m going to be rude. He didn’t have to leave my mother’s book, but he did.
I pick up the volume, holding it in my hands. It’s heavier than it looks, and it’s full of some of the best stories I’ve ever read in my life.
“I know we don’t have a lot of money,” Mom said when she handed it to me. “But when you’re rich in spirit, love, that’s all you need.”
I took the book from her hands and read the title aloud. Then I traced my fingers over the cover, examining the artwork.
“What’s it about?” I asked her.
“Hope,” Mom said. She smiled and pulled me close. “It’s about hope, baby girl. No matter where you go, you will always have hope, Madison.”
“Why?”
“Because I believe in you, princess, and I always will.”
My parents died shortly after I received the book. A car crash. It was unexpected and no one really cared. It was sad, of course, but my parents weren’t very important in the community and as far as I can tell, no one really missed them. Their bosses didn’t send flowers or cards or offer to help out. There was just nothing.
Until there was Eva.
I was supposed to go into foster care, but she waltzed in like a guardian angel and said no, that couldn’t happen. She would take care of me. She would do whatever it took to get custody of me and she would protect me with everything she had.
I was lucky.
And I will never forget what she did for me.
After I went to live with her, she’d read to me every night. Sometimes it would be from my mother’s book and sometimes it would be from one of her wolf fairytale books. Eva loves wolves more than anything else in the world. No matter what, though, she would always read to me. She even read to me as a teenager. I was never embarrassed or ashamed of bedtime stories. To me, they were a chance to feel close to the most important woman in my life, but they were also a chance to remember my parents.
All these year later, and I haven’t stopped missing them.
I curl up in the bed with the book, pull it close to my chest, and close my eyes.
Things are looking pretty bleak right now, but I remember my mother’s words.
No matter where you go, you will always have hope.
“Madison,” I whisper. “How the fuck are you going to get yourself out of this one?”