Chained (17 page)

“No, Travis.  No, please don't do this.”

“It's okay, Butterfly.”  There was the clink of a belt buckle.  “I won't hurt you.  Not like Master does.”

“No, Travis...”  I began to cry as he advanced toward me. 

Chapter 19:
  Owned

I soon learned that when Travis said that I had been “given” to him, he truly meant it.  I was one of Master's possessions, to be gifted at will.  Travis took his new ownership to heart and treated me like some sort of pet. 

The next morning Travis came to me and woke me from my uneasy sleep amid the pile of blankets.

I looked up with bleary eyes to see him standing in the doorway of the stall, hand outstretched.  I cringed back, making myself as small as possible in the corner.

Travis's voice had an edge of frustration.  “Sarah, don't be silly.  I'm not going to hurt you.  Come on.” 

Cautiously, I rose and took his offered hand. He had a basket in the other, covered with a dish towel.

Travis led me out of the barn and around a dusty track that led up the side of one of the hills.  I followed, my hand still in his, carefully picking my way over the various rocks.  He didn't seem to notice that I was barefoot, though yesterday he had given me a large t-shirt and yoga pants to wear.  Both were far too big.  Even with the drawstring cinched, I had to hold the pants up with my free hand to keep them from falling down.

“Where are we going?”  I panted.  “I'm tired.”

Travis slowed, though he did not release my hand.  “You'll see.”

The trail wound slowly up the side of the hill, often almost doubling back on itself to avoid boulders and rocky outcroppings.  The scrubby grass scraped at my pants, and once or twice I almost stepped on a cactus.  Every once in a while I saw the tracks of some sort of deer, and droppings that looked like those of rabbits.

I tripped and fell, ripping my pants and skinning my knee.  Tears stung my eyes, but I quickly stood up and brushed myself off, determined not to show weakness.

“You okay?”

It was the most insane question in the history of the world, coming from that man.  I just nodded and let him take my hand again.

By the time we crested the top of the hill, I was lightheaded and sweating.  Travis released my hand and strode quickly forward to a large area of bare rock that showed through the thin grass.  As I watched and tried to catch my breath, he removed a tablecloth from the basket and spread it on the rock.  He motioned for me to come sit down.

A picnic breakfast?  This was insanity on top of insanity.  Nevertheless I walked forward and sat down where Travis indicated.  He handed me a plate full of fresh fruit, cheese and crackers.  My stomach growled loudly and I began to stuff the food into my mouth, lest he should change his mind. 

Travis just laughed and brought out his own plate.  He watched me silently as I ate.

When the food was gone, I set the plate down.  “What is all this about?”

Travis acted surprised.  “Can't a guy have breakfast with a girl without there having to be a reason?”

You aren't just a guy.  And I'm not some girl for you to wine and dine and talk pretty to. 
“Um, no.”

Travis sighed.  “Why do you have to complicate things?  I thought that you were accepting your circumstances, seeing as how you haven't tried to escape for quite a while.”

I desperately swallowed the angry words that wanted to come spewing from my mouth. 
Because I watched you murder two men in cold blood, and I didn't want to be responsible for any more death.  Because I was hugely pregnant.  Because I had no hope.  Because you took my baby! 
“I'm not complicating things.  I don't understand why you're being nice to me.”

Travis smiled.  It was the smile that used to make me melt inside, even in a snapshot on the internet.  “Master gave you to me.  I'm not perfect, but I don't treat girls like he does.  I'm not cruel.”

“No?”  I couldn't quite keep the dangerous edge out of my voice.

Travis either didn't hear, or ignored.  “You are the first woman my father has given to me.  I intend to treat you carefully.  I don't want you used up and worn out within a year or two.  I want to have you around for a while.”

One word in particular hit me.  Through my newly found horror, I realized I should have known.  Even as I asked the question, I knew that I already had the answer.  “Your father?”

“Yes.  Master is my father.”

Well, it made sense.  I suddenly understood the unquestioning devotion, how Travis refused to leave or call the police no matter what Master did.

A thought occurred to me that made my stomach turn.  “And your mother?”

“One of his women, yes.”

Travis is twenty one years old.  Twenty-one years.  That's how long he's been doing this.  How has no one ever caught this man?  How many women have died in that basement?
  Suddenly I was wishing I hadn't eaten that food.

Travis must have mistaken my horrified silence for interest.  “He's never let me have a woman of my own before.  He said I was too young.”

I felt sick.  “How many women?”

Travis shrugged.  “I have no idea.  I started helping him when I was thirteen.  He'd been rescuing women from the streets for years, even before I was born.”

I was afraid I was going to vomit.  “Rescuing?”

“Well, yes.  He only takes girls that are homeless, or prostitutes, or ones that would never have a real home otherwise.  Of course, they don't understand what he's doing.  But usually after a few years they start to understand, if they are still alive by then.  I told you before about all this, don't you remember?”

Anything over a week ago felt like another lifetime.  I just shook my head.  “But the babies...”

“Master knows these women would never make good mothers.  He gives the babies to families who desperately want a child, who are able to prove that they can afford to raise a baby.”

“What, you mean you're selling the babies?”

Travis frowned.  “Well, nothing so crude.  After all, a baby takes nine months or more to be ready for the world.  And Master needs money to live off of, and to feed the girls.  The parents are merely paying for services provided.  It works out for everyone.

“Why didn't he sell you?”

“Oh.  My mother was somehow able to hide her pregnancy from him, and she kept me hidden for nearly three years.  By the time Master realized my existence, I was too old.  The parents only want newborns without faults.  These are the ones that they will pay the highest money for.”

“What happened to your mother?”

“He let her raise me until I was old enough to do many things for myself, then he punished her.”

“You mean he killed her.”

Travis shrugged.  “She was punished, and she died of her wounds.  Sometimes death is the price of disobedience.”

Sometimes death is the price of disobedience.  Sometimes you shoot men in cold blood for no reason other than being in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Sometimes you capture innocent girls and you bring them to your basement dungeon to be raped and tortured at will.

I stood and turned to leave.  “I've heard enough.  I don't know why you brought me up here.”

Travis grabbed my arm and spun me around to look at him.  “I said I would not be cruel to you.  I did not say that you are allowed to treat me however you want.”

“Let me go.  I want to go back.”

“Our picnic isn't finished yet.”

I jerked my arm out of his grasp.  “I don't care.  I'm going.”

I barely had time to register the movement before he lifted his hand and slapped me on the cheek.  Tears sprang to my eyes and I pressed my hand to the injury, looking up at him in shock.  “I own you,”  He said in a low voice, his lips moving right next to my ear.  “You do not leave until I tell you to leave.”

Like father, like son. 
I opened my mouth to reply, anger burning in my chest, but Travis raised his hand as a warning.  “Sit down.”

I didn't want to be hit again.  I sat down on the blanket.

Then Travis was in front of me, pawing at me.  On a hilltop, in the sunlight, he apparently intended to have his way with me.  And if I didn't want to be beaten, I had no choice but to accept it.

***

Some parts of this never got easier.  I taught myself to enjoy the walks, and the words that could almost be imagined to be kind.  I lay beneath him, imagining that he was someone I loved.  I cut the memories of the murders from my mind.  The only place I could not avoid them was in my dreams.

Travis gave me flowers.  He brought me a necklace, a gold chain with a purple stone in the pendant.  He fed me chocolate.  And when he wanted, he raped me.

As long as I pretended to be happy and to appreciate him, I was treated well.  When I started to become sarcastic or tried to question anything, then the crueler side of Travis would start to surface.  The only thing predictable about his moods was how little I could predict them.  Sometimes I thought I would almost have preferred Master's attentions...at least he was consistently vicious, without this constant fear of waiting for the other shoe to drop.  He could go from laughing and smiling in one second, and in the next my cheek would be stinging.  Many times I was never quite sure what I had done to deserve the slap.  Eventually I pretty much stopped talking altogether.  It was safer that way.

Once he felt that he had sufficiently convinced me that escape was impossible, there was a night when Travis let me sleep in the house.  That first night I felt so guilty that I could not sleep, thinking about Rachel and the pregnant Tanya still out in the barn.  I laid there under the clean sheets and stared at the popcorn ceiling, my stomach churning with disgust—at myself, and at Travis.

I quickly learned that there were no electronics in the house besides the TV and the phones that Travis and Master carried with them.  No computer.  No tablets.  No way of accessing the outside world.

At least I knew the dates and the days now.  Today was August 15
th
, a Friday.  Three weeks since we had been brought to this new place.  I was allowed nearly full rein in the house except for a locked door at the end of the hall, to which only Travis had a key.

I was even allowed to walk outside.  I was now the one in charge of bringing the other girls their meals.  I knew they hated me for it.  Neither would talk to me. 

One day I was walking and wandered a little too far.  I got lost between the hills and it was nearly sunset before I found my way back to the house.  I was greeted by an irate Travis, his face red with anger.

“Where were you?”  He shouted, advancing toward me menacingly.  He took me by the arms and shook me.  I fixed my eyes on a point on the ground, keeping my head down. 

“I'm sorry.  I got lost.”  I said this in a monotone, careful to avoid any trace of insubordination. 

“Right.  You've been here for weeks, and you just happened to 'get lost' in a land with no trees?”

I just shrugged.  Apparently this was the wrong answer.  A fist drove into my stomach and I doubled over, gasping.

My heart rate began to speed as fear flooded my veins.  Travis had never truly beaten me before, only Master. had  But now that I belonged to him, he seemed to feel no such restraint as he once did.

Another punch in my ribs.  I cried out and my knees buckled.  I knelt on my hands and knees, looking at the ground.  “I'm sorry!”  I cried.  “It was an accident!”