Chapter 37

THIRTY-SEVEN

The wedding ceremonywent by in a blur, and I didn't even hear a word. But then when Mason dipped Daisy down and smothered her in a sloppy kiss, a part of my heart shriveled up. I looked over at Bradley and his jaw clenched.

"Now, Daphne will be guiding you both lovebirds to the holy room, and the rest of us will shift to the viewing area to complete the marriage of Mr. Mason and Mrs. Daisy Davenport." Dr. Ivory nodded at his wife, who immediately stood and ushered the couple out of the area.

Bradley gripped my hand so tightly, I squirmed in pain.

"Come, sweetheart." Conrad stood and slid his hand into mine to guide me in the dark to a different room. Bradley stood and followed behind us.

Once in the other room, I wheezed audibly in shock. There was a glass wall and movie theater-style recliners. Daisy and Mason were in the adjoining room, and we could see them through the glass. This was the room you could see from Dr. Ivory's office. My heart began pounding against my chest as sweat grew in the crook of my neck.

There was now a large, king-sized bed covered in all white sheets, and in the middle of it laid a small white towel.

"What is this?" I wiggled out from Conrad's embrace and grabbed Mrs. Ivory's shoulder, forcing her to turn toward me. "What the fuck is this? How can you let this happen? You… you should feel for these girls!" I screeched. The other caged girls had all taken their seats, and behind them sat the group of men with their binders.

"How… how can you do this? How can you people be this sick? And forcing Bradley to watch this?" I cried out, waving my hands wildly.

But just as I turned to Conrad, he lifted his hand and slapped me so hard across my face, I fell to the ground, clutching my burning cheek. A moment later, his shiny black shoe slammed into my ribcage, knocking the wind out of my lungs. "Behave yourself, bitch," he growled angrily. I lifted my eyes and looked at the man I would be forced to marry.

"What the hell?" Conrad screamed as Bradley jerked him back and punched him in the face.

"Oh, my heavens!" Mrs. Ivory yelled as she attempted to tug Bradley off Conrad. Conrad's face was covered in blood, and Bradley didn't look like he intended on slowing down.

"Bradley!" I forced myself up and grabbed his arm, stumbling back with him.

Conrad stood with the help of his mother and spat out blood-tinged saliva. "Oh, you just wait… Mother, I have to speak with Mason for a moment. I have a wedding gift for him to use in the holy room," Conrad said spitefully, then left the room.

Bradley's face grew pale as he realized the magnitude of what he had done. Guilt panged me as he lifted my chin up. "Are you okay, Demi?" he choked out.

I began to cry. I didn't care that the room was full of people watching us as if we were on the trailer to a movie they were eager to watch.

"No, I'm not okay," I whispered.

"It's okay to not be okay," he murmured before Mrs. Ivory broke us apart.

"Bradley, you are so lucky Mason hired you as a part of the package. If not, I'd bury you alive in the peony garden myself for laying a hand on my beautiful Conrad," she threatened, then turned to me. "And you… I'm starting to think Ian was right. You may just need to be a caged girl after all. I believe Conrad may have chosen you as the favorite girl prematurely."

Thoughts of being a caged girl filled my mind and I panicked. "What? No…"

"Well then you better prove yourself to us."

The lights turned off completely, and I could see Dr. Ivory's outline appear. Bradley immediately backed away from me and sat down.

Where's Conrad?

I begrudgingly sat down as Dr. Ivory set up a camera in the center aisle. He's going to record this entire thing? Once he took his seat, the room fell completely silent. I dug my nails into the armrests. Bradley had his eyes secured to the ground, and I prayed that he would just fall asleep or maybe dissociate from this hell.

Suddenly, a small screeching noise had us all squinting through the darkness.

Was that…

Oh no.

A woman I'd never seen before appeared, wearing an old-school server outfit with red and white stripes and a hat to match. She was pushing a cart full of movie theater popcorn, boxed candy, and bottled soda.

No… this can't be happening.

"Here you are." She extended items to each person, which they excitedly took from her.

"Sir?" She tried to hand Bradley a tray.

"Bradley, take the tray. You don't want to make Daisy's last night here harder than Conrad's already making it," Dr. Ivory barked.

What does he mean, Conrad's making it?

Bradley handed me a tray of concessions, which made me think about my first-date fantasy I would have as a child. I used to dream about being a normal teenager, going on my first date at the movies. My date would buy me popcorn and a box of MMs, which were my absolute favorite. I had first tried them when Trent dropped a few on the carpet one day, and I reached under the closet we were forced to live in and gave one to Layla while eating the dirtied one for myself.

I always dreamt of that date, though I had never been on a date in my entire life—I never had the opportunity. The one where he'd wrap his arm around me, we'd steal flirtatious glances at one another, and then he'd lean in to kiss me. My very first kiss.

My stomach flipped thinking that Conrad was my first kiss, and how his father's lips had been on me. I suppose all along I was being saved for Conrad, so he stripped me from any chance of a real life. I cringed that this was my new life. A life I'd never escape from.

But then again, my parents were also to blame. They were the ones who sold us in the first place. They saw their two daughters as burdens, but they also saw us as a source of money.

They saw us as objects, just like these men and this sick family.

I took the tray and put it in my lap, and looked over at Bradley. "Bradley, just close your eyes and pretend we're at the real movies. I've never been. What's your favorite?" I whispered as low as I could while Mrs. Ivory was busy chatting with her husband.

Bradley looked over at me, and the pain he felt internally was displayed on his face.

"Titanic." He shrugged.

"Titanic?" I widened my eyes in shock by his response.

"Yea… we all know there was room on the raft for Jack, too." He forced a small grin, and I couldn't help but wince as tears streamed down my cheeks.

"Just so you know… Titanic was one of the only movies I've ever seen. And there will always be room on the raft for Jack. When I find us a way out…" I swallowed the lump in my throat because I knew I was lying to him.

There wouldn't be room for Jack or Rose because there'd never be a way out. Not alive at least.