Chapter 1

Paige POV

Clasping on to the strong grips around my neck, my elbows braced on the two sides of the bathtub, chunks of ice floating around as I kicked under the frigid water, trying not to drown. On the surface, I could see small air bubbles forming, escaping from my lips... I was running out of air. There was a time in my life where a small cut would have made me cry, go running to my mother for comfort, oh my, my sweet mother. It's a pity she isn't here to see what has become of me, her only child. Her death was one of the many lessons that made me who I am today because now I have learned to channel all that pain into something else, survival.

My suffering has evolved, becoming a part of me every day, sinking a little deeper each time. From being whipped across my back, with an electric chord to being kicked, punched bestowing me a broken bone or two, but it just doesn't hurt like it used to. Fighting back is useless, they are stronger than I am... faster, but they aren't smarter. Slowly releasing my hands from his, I let them fall to my side, my body laying inert, ending the losing struggle with him. Loosening his grasp around my throat, his eyes danced with fear, he killed me.

"I think- I think she is dead," he looked over his shoulder, "No, she isn't,"

Lunging upwards, I gasped for air, coughing a few times, grateful for each breath as I clutch onto the sides of the bathtub, glancing at him. I couldn't see his face clearly, but I saw his shadow seated on a chair in the dark, while the man who was trying to drown me, stood next to him with folded arms, waiting to attack me again. I felt their eyes on me, their smirks, enjoying the view, watching me being like this... weak. Through the small creases from the barred window, the moonlight shunned on me, attempting to pull my trembling body out of the water, my teeth throb against each other, the goosebumps rough on my skin praying for the natural heat from my body to somehow regenerate in my muscles, but I doubt that, at this point, it feels as if even the blood was frozen in my veins.

"Paige... Darling, just tell me where's the money and all of this will end,"

"I- I didn't take- take it- I swear," I stammered, too cold to speak fluently.

"Stop bullshitting me, Paige... You know where I keep the money, and you went in there and stole it,"

"I- didn't, I swear-"

"On what? Your dead mother, an addict that didn't give a shit about you... Huh?"

"Don't say- don't say that," I climbed over the tub, falling to the floor, hitting the side of my face, Motionless, I laid there, listening to him talk crap about my mom, a woman who worked hard to achieve her goals, and building this house was one of them, the very same house he now occupies. Some nerve he has referring to her as an addict as if it wasn't him that made her that way, forcing her to snort cocaine, pushing her over the edge of overdosing. Bad memories of her episodes are forever etched on my mind, many are of her frothing from her mouth or passing out, but she got worse each day and I knew there was no saving her, for she was already dead. Her well-groomed hair was suppressed on her head with a mixture of vomit and grub, her well fashionable clothes had large rips, exposing her pale skin. Perhaps one day in the future when my kids ask about their grandmother I would forget the ghoul she became, and keep the woman she was before Morris, alive. I don't know what my mother saw in him, but all I ever saw was a monster, feasting on our family's happiness until he finally got what he wanted, privilege.

"I didn't take your money," I whispered,

"Ok... That's how you want to play, then no problem, Billy here has no problem beating the answer out of you,"

Stepping out of the dark Billy stood over me, a muscular fellow with a tattoo under his right eye, I couldn't see it clearly, but it looks like a symbol, maybe it had to do with the gang. The dull light reflected on his bald head, as he caressed his matured beard, he must be a recruit, I didn't recognize him, and if Morris needs new members that means something isn't going according to his plan.

"Where is the money," his voice roared, echoing throughout the room,

"Fuck... you," I muttered Kicking me in the stomach, I winced in pain, biting my inner lip trying to sustain my groans, I could taste the blood on my tongue, coating over my teeth,

"Please..." I pleaded, "I didn't take your money, you have kept me locked in here so much I hardly know where to look for what anymore, but I didn't take it,"

"Yea and I granted you freedom one fucking time! And you stole from me? Where is it, Paige? Where is the money,"

"I didn't take it, Morris, in fact, you probably ask Mr. Billy here, he seems like the type to-"

Booting me repeating in the stomach, I cried out in pain, followed by a low chuckle, I didn't take that money, and I think Morris knows who took it, he just needs someone else to blame for his fuck-ups, "That's enough," he stood from the chair, with hands tucked behind him, marching towards us,

"She doesn't have it,"

"Are you sure boss? Because I can-"

"It's ok Billy," Morris squeezed the man's shoulder, followed by a pat on the back, "I have known this girl since she was a toddler, so I know when she is lying, after all, I am her stepfather, a father she never knew," he chuckled,

How dare him, I thought. He was nothing to me, and I might have never met my father, but I am sure he was probably a better man than this swine.

"You can find dry clothes over there, do you have any requested meals... You're looking a little thin, " he looked down at me.

Staring at my body, I tried to shield my self with my hands, I was so numb that I didn't realize I was in my undergarments.

"I am... Co- Cold,"

"Cover her up," he instructed Billy, who dashed across the room digging through old clothing, the rancid filled the air as he continued his search, they were foul, but who am I to complain, Morris promised me dry clothes, not clean ones. Spreading a thick blanket over me, I felt my body slowly beginning to feel alive again, the vibrating trembles turned into low shivers, as I hugged my knees under the sheet.

Crouching beside where I lay, I watched Morris from the corner of my eyes, "You know Paige you might not have it, but you know who does,"

How? You have me locked in here most of the time.

"And if I don't get my money back I will just have to hand you over to Suarez, I mean..."

He began to stroke his thumb down my hairline, dragging the tip of his finger across my brittle lips,

"You're a beautiful girl, a twenty-one-year-old virgin is a rare jewel in this world, and I am sure Suarez will pay a lot to have you in his little business,"

You motherfucker, I thought, he was going to sell me to a panderer... A pimp.

"You're my stepdaughter, your mother died, leaving you in my responsibility, it would be sad if I failed her now, wouldn't it?"

"You can't keep me here forever Morris," I found my voice again,

"Oh, but I can... And I will until I know what to do with you, you see... your mother owes me, she's dead so..." He chuckled lowly, "Now you owe me."

"I am not afraid of you Morris... neither was my mother,"

"I know, strong woman, it's sad what happened to her... But Sandra was always a cautious woman, funny how that same reluctant woman suddenly dies from an overdose... I guess she wasn't careful enough, the wrong place at the time perhaps,"

What is he saying, is he... Is he trying to tell me that my mother's death wasn't an accident? The police report said it was an overdose... Unless she was drugged and the cover-up was orchestrated by someone from the police department. No... I have to be sure before I make these big assumptions. Morris could be toying with my emotions trying to trigger me, but soon I will find the answers I seek.

"Well..." he continued, rising to his feet, "Billy here will get you something to eat, I suggest you get a good night sleep and think long hard about my money," he walked into the darkness, Billy trailing behind him.

Flinching at the slamming of the door, I leaned my back against the tub, whimpering in pain as I tried to sit up, pulling the thick shroud aside. Groaning lowly, I touched my bruises, they weren't that bad as the last ones, these only had a slight stung if I pressed down on them too hard, the real bruises were on the inside, the ones no one can see, not even me, but I feel them, and the one I am feeling now is about my mother, was she murdered?