Canvas of Captivity

Chapter 2 Confronting the Devil

Returning home, I find the familiar emptiness that signifies Dad's absence. No surprise there – he's likely off indulging in his latest gambling obsession at the horse races. With a resigned sigh, I set about fixing myself a simple dinner, opting for a sandwich and a side of chips.

As I settle onto the couch, my sanctuary from the chaos outside, I flick on the TV and tune into my guilty pleasure: "Single Women's Race." It's the ultimate guilty pleasure, a reality show where desperate singles vie for the affections of one handsome catch. Who will win his heart? It's the kind of mindless entertainment I crave after a long day. In between bites of my sandwich, I shoot off a quick text to Chad, updating him on my day and the successful tour I conducted at work.

With a frustrated sigh, I glance down at my phone to see a text from Dad, another one of his pleas for a rescue mission from the horse races. Seems his luck with cars is about as good as his luck with horses.

Resigning myself to yet another interruption to my evening, I snatch up my keys and head out the door. Irritation simmers beneath the surface, but I remind myself that at least he's not attempting the trek home on foot – that would be a disaster waiting to happen. Sliding into the driver's seat, I start the engine and navigate my way through the streets towards the horse races. It's not exactly how I planned to spend my evening, but hey, when duty calls, what choice do I have?

Pulling up to the horse races, I'm met with an eerie sight – the place is deserted, devoid of the usual throngs of eager bettors and raucous spectators. It's like a ghost town compared to its usual bustling atmosphere. Spotting Dad's car parked in its usual spot, I can't help but feel a pang of concern. Where is he? And why is the place so deserted?

Setting my worries aside for the moment, I make my way towards the arena, where a few workers are milling about. Approaching one of them, I inquire about Dad's whereabouts. "Have you seen John Norris?" I ask, hoping for some answers.

The man nods, gesturing towards a nearby door. "He went through there a little while ago. Said something about needing some air." My heart sinks at the thought of Dad wandering off on his own in this empty place. With a quick thank you, I head towards the door, my steps quickening with each passing moment.

As the door creaks open, revealing the scene before me, my heart skips a beat. There's Dad, surrounded by a group of men in suits, sitting in what appears to be a makeshift meeting room. The atmosphere is tense, the air thick with an unspoken tension. "Dad, let's go home," I say, my voice tinged with urgency. But before he can respond, one of the men steps forward, drawing my attention.

He's in his early thirties, with slicked-back brown hair, gray eyes, and a rugged charm that's hard to ignore. But what captures my gaze the most is the scar that slashes across his face, adding an edge to his rugged good looks. He's the epitome of bad boy hot, and I can't help but feel a flutter of attraction despite the situation. "Hello, Brooke," he says, his voice smooth as silk. "We've been expecting you. I'm Cedric. My family owns this establishment."

My father's nervous smile does little to ease the tension that coils in my stomach. As Cedric inches closer, I become acutely aware of the men surrounding me, their presence suffocating as they close in, leaving Dad relegated to a corner. Dread creeps up my spine, a sinking feeling settling in as I realize that this is far from a simple rescue mission.

As Cedric insists on us having a chat before anyone can leave, my stomach churns with unease. The men swiftly rearrange the seating, positioning Dad and me across from each other and Cedric at the head of the table. Cedric points to the chair across from my father for me to sit. It's a setup that feels more like an interrogation room than a casual conversation. "It's nice to meet you, Cedric, but I really need to take my father home," I repeat, my voice trembling slightly despite my efforts to sound composed.

But Cedric remains resolute, pulling out a chair for me and gesturing for me to sit. Reluctantly, I obey, feeling the weight of his stare as I lower myself into the seat. Dad sits opposite me, his expression a mix of apprehension and resignation. As I settle into the chair, a wave of fear washes over me. My heart pounds in my chest, a relentless drumbeat that echoes my growing sense of dread. I can't shake the feeling that this meeting is about to take a dangerous turn, and I'm powerless to stop it.

As Cedric begins to address my father, my heart sinks like a stone. The tension in the room is noticeable as Dad hangs his head in shame, admitting to owing an exorbitant amount of money. A million dollars. The words hang heavy in the air, suffocating me with their weight.

My mind reels at the sheer magnitude of the debt, a staggering sum that we could never hope to repay. Panic claws at my throat as I meet Cedric's gaze, his smile sending a shiver down my spine. "We don't have that kind of money," I blurt out, desperation seeping into my voice as I search for a way out of this nightmare.

But Cedric's smile only widens, his offer of a deal casting a shadow of foreboding over the room. I know deep down that whatever he proposes, it won't be in our favor. We're trapped, caught in a web of debt with no way out but through Cedric's twisted game.

Cederic then looks to my father, he pulls out papers and a pen “John I will erase your debt and give you 1 million if you sell me your daughter.” Shock and disbelief wash over me as Cedric lays out his despicable proposition, offering to erase my father's debt in exchange for selling me off like some commodity. My father's compliance cuts through me like a knife, his signature on the papers a betrayal that cuts deeper than any words could.

Before I can even process what's happening, fury erupts from within me, boiling over in a torrent of curses and outrage. "What the f**k!" I scream, the words tearing from my throat in a raw explosion of anger. "You can't sell me! I'm a f*****g person!"

“Thank you for doing business with me John.” Cedric's response is chillingly calm as he snatches up the signed papers, his gratitude ringing hollow in my ears. The sight of the suitcase filled with money only serves to fuel the fire raging within me, a stark reminder of the price my father was willing to pay for his own freedom.

The anger surges through me like a tidal wave, drowning out any semblance of restraint or composure. I turn to my father, the man who's supposed to protect me, but instead has sold me off like some disposable asset. "I'm sick of f*****g dealing with your madness!" I shout, the words tearing from my throat with a ferocity that surprises even me. "I'm sick of always being the only one who tries. Do you get off on my pain? Are you happy when I suffer?"

His gaze falls to the briefcase of money, a pitiful excuse for the betrayal he's just committed. "I'm sorry," he mumbles, his words feeble and hollow. But my fury only intensifies, a blazing inferno fueled by years of resentment and disappointment. "Sorry isn't good enough!" I roar, my voice cracking with emotion. "I'm tired of trying to salvage what's left of our family. I'm tired of picking up the pieces while you drown in your own self-pity."

"And don't you dare act like you're the only one who's lost something!" I continue, my voice rising to a crescendo. "I lost my mother and sister too. But unlike you, I haven't given up. I refuse to let their memory be tarnished by your cowardice."