EIGHT HOURS LATER  I thrash and squirm, yanking my chains and screaming, even though the sound isn’t loud because it can’t break through my gag. I shove my legs forwards and backwards over and over, twisting my body, and growling with a deep, angry frustration that is consuming my body. I can’t let him beat me on this. I can’t let myself turn into...her...Number Three. He won’t win this lesson. He won’t. God, he won’t.

TEN HOURS LATER  I hang my head, staring at my crossed legs. I can’t feel them anymore, and I don’t even care. What’s the point in fighting when there’s nothing left to fight for. If I had listened from the start, instead of thinking about myself, then I could have saved Number Three. I was so wrapped up in escape, and look where that got me. I’m here, gagged. She’s dead.

TWELVE HOURS LATER  My fight is gone. It’s been gone for hours now. Instead, it’s replaced with shame and hatred. Not a hatred for him, but a hatred for myself. This is my fault. If I had behaved and just did as he asked, none of this would have ever happened. I should have listened; hell, if I’d followed the rules we might all be getting rewarded now. Instead, I have a dead friend and I’m here, helpless, my spirit crushed. My plan was a fail. I’m a failure.

WILLIAM

She’s b ~e darknes="1emroken.

There’s a moment when a person gives in, and their face changes. Her determined glare is now replaced with an empty look of resolve. It’s not where I wanted her to be, but I can work with her now. I can show her that giving in will only work in her favor.

If she would just let me in, I could show her that she can trust me.

“Sir?”

I swing my office chair around, tearing my eyes off Number Thirteen on the camera. George is standing at my door with a phone in his hand.

“It’s Ben.”

I nod, and extend my hand. He walks in, dropping the phone into my palm. I cover the mouthpiece and murmur, “Get her out and back to her room, now.”

George nods, and leaves the room. I press the phone to my ear, leaning back in my chair and tapping my finger on my keyboard to bring my computer to life.

“Ben.”

“Been trying to get hold of you for over a day now, Will. Where have you been?”

“Busy.”

He makes a growling sound. “Don’t give me one-word answers, brother. We’re past that. What went down at your house? I heard there were cops everywhere?”

“One of my servants jumped from the roof.”

“What?” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I didn’t know she was depressed. Turns out she had come from the streets. The cops said she didn’t even have a family.”

It’s a lie, but he doesn’t need to know what I’m doing here. He’d never understand. It took a lot of careful planning to get past the cops. They came close to finding out what I am doing here. I can’t let that happen again.

“That’s horrible. I’m sorry, man.”

I shrug, even though he can’t see it.

“She was unhappy; there was nothing anyone could have done.”

I wish that were true. I shove aside the pain that invades my chest at the thought.

“I’m still sorry, all the same. Listen, I called because it’s Dad’s birthday in less than three weeks.”

“And?” I mutter, feeling my body stiffen.

“Come on, Will. I know you hate him, but what about Momma?”

Momma. My chest clenches as I think of the frail, broken woman that used to be my mother. She’s not now. She’s just a hollow shell. I feel a certain level of guilt about that, even though I shouldn’t. It’s not my fault this happened, no matter how much my father thinks it is.

“Momma wouldn’t even know,” I say in a dry voice.

“You haven’t been to see her for months, Will. You know she adores you. I’m going to organize a dinner. I’m giving you this now, in advance, because you’re going to come.”

“Am I?” I snap. “Since when do you decide what I do and do not do?”

“Since you can’t pull your head out of your fucking ass. Now, we’re going to have a dinner, you decide where. I’m sure for one night, you can smile long enough to ease some of the pain in your mother’s heart.”

Ouch.

“Fine, Benjamin,” I grunt. “You organize it for here.”

“You’re having us over to your house?”

“Yes.”

“Fine, I’ll let them know. Don’t let me down, Will. I know Dad is an asshole, and I know why you hate him, but Momma doesn’t deserve to pay for his behavior.”

“I know, Ben,” I say, sighing in defeat. “I agreed, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did. Listen, I have another question.”

I make a rumbling sound in my chest. “Haven’t you asked enough for one day?”

He chuckles. “It’s just a question, brother.”

“Fine, let me have it.”

“The girl that works for you, what’s her name?”

I feel my body tingle, and then stiffen. “Which one?” I grind out.

“The tiny one. Blond hair, eyes that make you want to melt on the spot, sweet spoken?”

He’s talking about her. Number Thirteen. I stare up at the cameras, and I see she’s been returned to her room. She’s sitting on her bed, staring out her window. Her long blond hair is falling over her shoulders. Hell, sometimes it looks like there’s more hair then there is her...she’s so small.