The Cellar (The Cellar #1)

“Do you need a lift somewhere?”


“Um.” She hesitated. “I think I’ll be okay but thanks.”

I pursed my lips. I’m trying to save you. “You’d be doing me a favor. I’ve just got off the train and can’t remember my way into the city in the dark.”

“You’re not from around here?”

I shook my head. “No. I had a meeting and decided to park here and take the train the rest of the journey. I have yet to find my way around the city. Where are you headed?”

“I’m not sure. City probably.”

“Do you know it well?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Well, would you like a lift? You can direct me to wherever you want to go and point me in the right direction once you get out.”

“Okay then,” she replied and smiled. “Thanks.”

I got back in the car and she got in the passenger side. I drove off as soon as she was inside. “So where do you live?” she asked.

“Not far, we’ll be home soon.” I locked the door. “Violet.” She laughed and shook her head. She was laughing at me? Did she find this funny? I frowned. What did she think? I’d had it with the soft approach. Their reactions were all the same at first, so it didn’t matter how I saved them—direct and to the point gave me less of a headache.

“You need to turn left at the lights, that’ll take you on the ring road around the city.”

“Violet, we’re going home.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her face slowly fall. “What?”

“Please don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

“Are you being serious right now?”

“Of course.” Her eyes widened in horror as she registered what was happening wasn’t my idea of a joke. “I told you not to worry, Violet.”

She shook her head. “What the fuck? I’m not Violet. You’ve got the wrong person.” I sighed, gritting my teeth through her choice of colorful words. Her face cracked as my words properly sunk in and a steady flow of tears streaked her face. “Please let me go. I’m not who you think I am. I’m not this Violet, I swear. My name is Layal.”

“I know who you are,” I replied.

“No, you don’t. Let me go. Now!” she snapped, pulling at the door handle in vain.

“Don’t you dare be so disrespectful. I’m saving you.” She flinched. “Just be quiet and everything will be fine. Just be quiet.” She shrank back against the passenger side door and her knuckles turned white, still gripping the handle. My own hands tightened around the steering wheel. Her deep, unattractively loud sobs came frequently, and I ground my teeth together, trying to ignore her pathetic cries.

“W-Why are you doing this?” she muttered, stuttering over her words.

“Violet, I’m saving you,” I repeated. Why can’t you see that? Look at what your life is.

For the rest of the journey she was silent. Her cries died down to the occasional hiccup, and she stared emotionlessly out of the windshield. Finally, she understood what I was doing. I smiled; the stress and anxiety oozed from my body.

“Not long now,” I said as we turned down the road leading to my house. “The girls will be happy you’re home.”

She pressed her hands to her mouth, muffling a cry. “Who?”

I smiled. “The girls. You’re going to love them. Here we are,” I said, pulling into my drive. “Are you ready to meet them?”

“No. Look, just let me go now and I promise I won’t say anything. I won’t go to the police, I swear to you. Please. Please just let me go.”

“Violet, please just trust me and trust what I’m trying to do. The girls will be able to explain everything.” I switched off the engine and unbuckled my seat belt. “Right, let’s get inside.”

I unlocked the car and shoved my door open. Violet jumped out and sprinted around the car, toward the road. “Help,” she screamed. “Help me!” I lunged forward and grabbed a fistful of her coat. “No. Get off. Let go, you freak!” Her voice was loud and high-pitched. It rang through my ears.

I pulled her against my chest and clamped my hand over her mouth. “Be quiet, Violet,” I growled in her ear. I felt stressed, like a volcano ready to erupt. She was pushing me to the limit. I dragged her to the house and unlocked the door. “Enough now,” I whispered. She whimpered beneath me. “Almost there.” I pushed her through the house. “I’m going to move the bookcase. Are you going to stand there nicely, or do I need to restrain you?”

She gulped and her eyes widened. “I’ll stand here,” she whispered hoarsely.

I smiled. “Good.” Releasing my grip, I watched her move one step away from me and stop. I pulled the bookcase out of the way and unlocked the girls’ door. “Come,” I said, pushing the door open. She was frozen on the spot, staring at the open door. “Violet, come.”