Page 10 of Condemned By Pain
I step in, close the door, and head straight for the bathroom. My eyes linger on the bed. I never imagined there would be a day when I’d look at a bed with longing.
Wait. The bed has been slept in. Which means this isn’t an unused room. Which means I’m inside someone’s bedroom.
A door opens. I freeze.
A sick feeling settles in my stomach—this bedroom belongs to him.The man holding me captive.
The next second confirms it.
He steps out of the other door, not the bathroom, adjusting his gloves. Then he snaps his head up. His calm face turns terrifying in an instant, pure, cold anger. He opens his mouthto say something—something horrible, because nothing good ever comes from that man.
But I don’t wait for him to speak. I turn and sprint, out of his room, across the hall, into mine, and lock the door behind me. Only then do I allow my lungs to start working again.
Hand pressed to my chest, I lean my ear to the door. His door opens, closes. Footsteps fade. Once the sound dies, I tiptoe out and rush back into his room.
There’s unbearable pressure on my bladder, I need to empty it. I have to break into someone’s room to use a bathroom, so I’d rather use the one I know. Who knows who the other room belongs to.
After using the toilet and showering, I search for a toothbrush. I find a new one in a drawer and use it. Then I find his moisturizer and use that too. After getting dressed, I gather his moisturizer, shower gel, toothbrush, toothpaste, comb, and the bathrobe I was wearing, then leave.
I’ve become far too comfortable with stealing in just one day.
I’ve decided not to use his bathroom again. I’ll ask Antonio where the bathroom he mentioned is and use that instead. But with the kind of facilities they’re providing, I’m sure there won’t be anything in it besides toilet paper. So this stealing will come in handy.
I hide my stolen goods under the dresses Nivi gave me, in a corner, and head downstairs.
The maid from this morning spots me and calls me over. I follow her into the dining room, where my captor sits at the long table.
She points to a basket. “There’s a mop. Clean this room.”
“Don’t you have robots for this?” I ask, surprised.
She glances at my captor. I follow her gaze. He nods once, and she leaves.
“Do as you’re told,” he says coldly.
I walk to the basket. A cloth floats in clean water. I lift it—water streams from it. I place it on the floor, lower myself to my knees, and start wiping the way I’ve seen in movies.
We have robots for this. I’ve never seen a human do it, but I’m pretty sure the floor isn’t supposed to flood. It even soaks my knees.
Maybe I should squeeze the cloth into the bucket. But I’ve never seen that in movies. I decide to trust my instincts anyway. I slide back to the basket on my knees, position the cloth over it, and squeeze.
“Twist it.”
I snap my head toward the tyrant. He’s watching me with that serious frozen expression, as if he hadn’t just spoken.
“Did you just say twist it?” I ask, needing confirmation.
He gives a small nod, like he’s doing me a favor.
“How helpful,” I snark, and do as I’m told.
More water drains out. Now it isn’t dripping.
I wipe the wet area. The cloth absorbs the water. I twist it again over the bucket, then continue with the damp cloth. Now that I’m doing it properly, it seems like such a basic thing. It’s embarrassing that I didn’t even know how to do this. I can’t wait to share this life lesson with Avi, Lyn, and Autumn. I’m sure they have no idea how to do it either.
After wiping about twenty-five square meters, I can confidently say I hate this “basic thing.” The skin on my knees burns from sliding across the floor, and I can already tell my shoulders will be in agony by the time I finish mopping this room. My palms feel raw.
I drop down to sit on the floor. My sympathy for Cinderella just skyrocketed.
