The Cellar (The Cellar #1)

“Clover, do you think you could get us another, please?” Rose asked, cutting into my conversation with Lily. She held up a wooden spoon, split down the middle.

Were they all tired? Their manners had slipped in a matter of minutes. “I’ll go right now,” I said and stood up, taking the spoon from her outstretched hand. I kept a stock of things in the built-in a ceiling-high cupboard, so I had replacements for most things. I liked to be prepared.

Locking the door behind me, I walked to the bottom drawer and picked up a new wooden spoon. From somewhere behind me, I heard a soft thud. My heart leaped, and I spun around. Who was here? I scanned the room. There was a small bag of yarn on the floor. It was sitting on the side table waiting to be put away. I sighed and relief flooded my system. It must have been on the edge and fallen.

Was that it, though? Could it have been something, or someone, else? Lewis. Was he here? Did he know where I lived? Was he following me, spying on me? I placed the spoon on the table and slowly walked toward the door. My ears pricked as I concentrated hard on listening for any noise. Poking my head around the door, I saw my empty hallway. This is ridiculous. Lewis had made me paranoid. He is watching you.

I stormed back into the room and picked the spoon up. He is not going to ruin this for me. I am still in control. He is not taking my family.

The girls were chatting when I got back. Lily seemed to have brightened up and joined in their conversation. “Your spoon,” I said, placing it on the worktop.

Rose stood up. “Thank you. Your dinner is ready.”

I ate quickly; my foot tapped on the floor automatically as I forced down mouthful after mouthful. This is Lewis’s fault. It’s all him. “His fault. It’s his,” I shouted, jumping up out of my seat.

The girls gasped. “What is?” Rose asked cautiously. Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Lewis,” I spat, glaring at Lily, caught up in the moment.

Lily’s face fell. Horror swept across her eyes. “What?” Anger built up and up and up, and I felt like I was going to explode. I was wound up, a coil. I breathed in and out heavily. My heart raced and the tips of my fingers tingled. I couldn’t control it. I wanted to smash something, smash everything. I had never been so on edge and ready to burst before. It was terrifying.

“What’s he done? What are you going to do?” she asked, her eyes filling with tears. The desperation in her voice made me sick.

“Shut up,” I bellowed. “Just. Shut. Up.” You’re losing it. Everything is going to be ripped away from under your feet and you’ll be left with nothing. You’ll be a failure. I growled from deep in my throat in frustration, picked up my plate, and launched it across the room. It hit the stairs and smashed. My heavy breathing was the only noise in the room. My hands shook and teeth ground together. The girls stood frozen.

You need to take it back. You’ve lost control. They would find the girls and me. They would take them and stop me. I knew they would.

“No,” I snapped and ran up the stairs, slamming the door behind me.

***

I pulled over to the side of the road and waited. They would come to me; they always did. Looking in the mirror, I slicked down my wild hair with the palm of my hand. My hands twitched, foot tapped, and I was unable to relax. I barely recognized myself anymore. Physically, I looked the same, but beneath that, I was a shadow of a man, desperate to break free.

A tap on the window made me jump back to reality. I looked to who it was and smiled. “Hi,” the dirty whore purred, causing my stomach to turn. She smiled, fluttering her false eyelashes. “I’m Cantrell. What can I do for you then?” You. You’re going to repair me.

Without a word, I gestured toward the passenger side and she got in. I gripped the steering wheel and drove toward the woods. She hadn’t even asked me where we were going. “So what’s your name, darlin’?”

“My name is of no concern to you.”

“Mmm, I love the feisty ones.” Did she? Did she enjoy this lifestyle, or was it all for my benefit?

“Aren’t you going to ask if I’m married?”

She laughed loudly, from the pit of her stomach. “No, darlin’. All I need to know is if you’ve got the dough for the ho!” My mouth dropped at her brashness. Pride. She had pride in what she was and what she was doing. I took a deep breath. My mind clouded with a red mist, and I could barely concentrate on driving. I wanted her gone.

My fingers twitched around the steering wheel and my heavy breathing threatened to give me away. It had to be now. The feeling of losing control, being a failure, weighed me down, threatening to consume me. I used to pride myself on patience. I’d waited long enough to get the girls, but I couldn’t wait now. Home is too far.