The Wife

The Minnesota Penthouse

My tongue is sticking to the roof of my mouth and the air is stale. Everything was still spinning, and I felt like I was going to throw up. My stomach lurched and I felt the vomit at the back of my throat. Someone handed me a small basket just as soon it hit my mouth. I put the little basket down and laid back. I felt so disgusting, like I had been hit with a truck, and a massive headache to match. Did I drink too much? Where was I? It looked different from home. The room stopped spinning, and I wiped my mouth with my sleeve. It was beautiful. There was natural light pouring in thoroughly big glass windows. There was a luxury kitchen to the left of me with updated appliances. Everything seemed so bright and it was burning my eyes. I closed my eyes until the burning sensation stopped. I could hear a few different voices but they were not clear. One was booming and deep while the other one was calm and quiet, almost like a mouse. I sat up all the way and opened my eyes slowly.

Two men were sitting in dark green leather chairs across from me. I quickly looked down and felt every hair on my body stand. I slowly got up to leave, though I still felt weak and sick. I heard the one with the booming voice, “Just sit there princess. You aren’t going to feel good for awhile.” I mumbled, “Who in the f**k do you think you are?” I stood up abruptly and I felt my feet sink into a fuzzy and soft rug. As soon as I took a step I felt a large hand on my shoulder. He chuckled at me.

He pushed me down and covered me with a heavy blanket. I tried to argue but I was too weak. I hear footsteps on wood and running water into a glass cup. My eyelids feel so heavy like there are weights pull them down. The footsteps sound closer now and the soft thud of feet on carpet come near me. “Drink this.” The man with the overwhelming voice says. I feel cold glass against my lips and water. I shake my head no and with all my strength bat the glass away. “I don’t take drinks from strangers.” I whimper through my dried out mouth. Another chuckle comes not only from the strong voiced stranger but also a small laugh from the quiet one.

“Oh dear you are a treat.” The quiet one says coyly. I put my fingers to my lips to gesture to shh. Another round of what seemed sarcastic laugh erupted from the two men. I finally opened my eyes to see on man near me who was massive. He stood at an easy six foot eight inches, with wide dominating shoulders, and brilliant blue eyes. He was dressed sharply in navy blue dress pants, a button up black shirt, and had a clunky watch on his right wrist. His black hair was styled in high fade with a loose pompadour, and had speckles of white throughout it. I glared at him for a second. I memorized his pale face with the sharp nose, and strong jawline. He looked about late thirties easily. I then blinked a few times with my head slumped towards the ground. I looked up again and he was still staring at me with a crooked smile.

I turned my attention to the man who was still in the chair. He was smaller build, probably around my height at five feet eight inches, with dark auburn red hair pulled into a low ponytail. He had the same exact eyes as the other man. The difference was in his smile, sly like a fox. He coughed and said, “Welcome back to the real world Kelly.” I looked at him and man one in disbelief at the fact he knew my name. I turned my attention to look past them towards the windows. I could see the tall buildings and could see the Mississippi river in the horizon. Everything was frozen in the winter season. We were a high ways up. I looked around searching for a way out.

“You can’t get out of here without a key princess.” The man with black hair stated. I glared at him. “Oh look at her fierencess Mr. Finch. I like the moxy this one has.” He stared into my eyes. I would not look away from him and neither would he. There was deafening silence. “Don’t call me princess, princess.” I spat out. I tried to get up again and he pushed me down. “No princess. We, however, need to talk.” I stared back at him while he was looming over me. “It’s not like you can leave here anyway remember? You need this.” He swayed a key card in my face. I growled like a hurt wolf and sunk back into the soft black fabric couch. I pulled up the cozy flower printed blanket up over my nose and stared at him. He sat back down next to Mr. red hair. What did he call him? Finch?

“Kelly,” the black haired one’s mouth curled into a smile, “From this point you are my property. You will do as I say.” I started laughing uncontrollably with little snorts breaking up the laugher. “Oh you’re funny. You have jokes big man huh?” Tears started coming out my eyes and I started to shake. The overwhelming feeling of danger overcame me. I knew he wasn’t joking. I couldn’t… No would not believe it. He was insane right? Just some weirdo with a penthouse in the cities, calling you his property. What the hell?

When I stopped laughing all that remained were tears. I shakenly asked, “You’re not serious.” He said it again quite firmly, “You belong to me now.” Tears streaming down my face I spring up and start hitting the bright walls of the room, and screaming. Just hoping someone hears me. I do this for a solid twenty minutes straight. The men just stare on and have a simple conversation. I finally feel so exhausted and my throat can’t make another noise even if I wanted too. I press my forehead against cool the wall. Someone had to hear me, right?

I feel huge arms wrap me up, and I struggle half heartedly to get away. The man with the jet black hair was humming as he set me back down gingerly back on the couch. The tears stained my face. I blankly stared at the men across from me. “Nobody will hear you if you do that again. Quite frankly it was annoying.” Mr. Finch said with an infuriated sigh, “So are you ready to listen?” I shook my head yes feeling my dark brown hair cover my pinkish complexion. “Good.” He said. “You are here because whether you remember or not you made a promise to my boss here. Well indirectly you did. Careful what you wish for, right? Anyways you are now his in any way, shape, or form that he so chooses. If you get lucky he won’t kill you within six months like the other ones!” His words were like steel and hit me so hard. What did I do?

“Don’t scare her! She’s not even recovered from the chloroform.” The mysterious man heartily laughed slapping his cohort on the back. “I don’t think she'll be much different but we’ll see. From now you will live here with me. I have three rules for you as of now. You will tell me what you need. You will follow any future rules. The last one is that you shower everyday. I know you will go into a depression like they all did. But, I don’t stand unhygienic guests. Do you understand?” I sat there frozen. He repeated louder with more authority, “Do you understand me?” I squeaked out a, “Yes.”

He laughed while asking, “Do you have anything dire you need to tell me now that you will need. Certain clothes? Designer bags? What do you need to be happy here?” I shook my head, “None of that. But..” I paused, “If I tell you promise you won’t kill me for it.” He chuckled, “Sure why not? I agree.” I whispered, “I need medication.” He chuckled harder, “Oh look this one is a druggy.” I whispered back shyly back, “No! I have Bipolar Two Disorder and I take medications everyday.” He went silent, “Oh so you need actual medication.” I shook my head yes. “Well what do you need?” I rattled off to him the six different prescriptions, what it does, how much I take of it, and when I take them. Mr. Finch wrote down the list of what I needed.

He stared at me with confusion. “So you don’t want any clothes besides the essentials? Jewelry? Handbags?” I glared at him, “Why would I need stuff like that? I can’t leave this place anyways right?” He shook his head, “Well eventually you’ll be able to go out with me. But for now yes.” I shrugged, “Still… I do need comfy clothes like what I am wearing.” I gestured to an oversized lakers hoodie and purple sweatpants that were clearly not mine. I gasped and blushed and looked up at him, “What am I wearing?” He giggled like a school boy, “You were soaking wet from last night so I put you into some of my scruffy clothes.” I covered my bosom and my privates. He giggled again, “Oh no I didn’t change you the maid did. I might be rough, but even I have some respect.”

“Well regardless I need a couple pairs of underwear, a sports bra, baggy shirt and hoodie, a pair of leggings, and a pair of sweatpants. It would also be nice to have a brush for my hair and my teeth.” I blushed as I stated off what I needed. He inquisitively looked at me, “Where do you want these clothes from?” I gentured with my hands and gave him a look of confusion. He asked again, “Where do you want them from?”. I crooked me head and said, “Target, Torrid, or Wal-mart. What do you mean, “Where do you want them from?”? Anywhere that has comfy clothes?” Mr. Finch looked at me as if I had two heads along with the black haired fellow. “Well this is weird.” Mr. Finch comments.

A ringtone break the silence and it’s Mr. Blackhair’s cellphone. He goes into a different room to take the call. I stare daggers into his back and stick out my tongue. “You know I am still here, right?” I dart my attention back to Mr. Finch. “I don’t really care that you’re here. I am going to use my limited freedom as much as I please. Including sticking my tongue out.” I retorted back to him. He narrowed his eyes, “How old are you?” I crossed my legs on the couch and pulled the blanket into my lap. I cradled it said, “I am 24 since September.”He shook his head and light heartedly said, “Such a young age to most likely die. Well enjoy the rest of your short life here.”

I looked on and ignored him. I started to be engulfed into this industrialized monstrosity of what I now I am supposedly call home. The kitchen looked built for a chef. There was stainless steel appliances that I haven’t even seen before. The fridge looked even bigger than Mr. Blackhair. The counters were a luxurious black, purple, and silver granite. The room in which we were sitting was ordained in smooth colors, and flooded with the waning light from the sun. The rug was a nice shade of creamy white, and the furniture was over the top. I laughed wholeheartedly at the clearly over the top decoration and laid down on the couch, engulfing myself into the blanket. “Great, she’s gone delusional now.” Mr. Finch rolled his eyes.

Mr. Blackhair came out of the room in a huff. “We need to leave now.” He marched into a hallway that was out of sight and I heard a door open, “Come on!” Mr. Finch stood up and followed him. I laid there on the couch waiting for the door to close and the footsteps fade away, or whatever I was hearing. This place is probably sound proof. I think to myself. I tilt my head while I lay there. “Do I dare look around? I still am exhausted from the chloroform they apparently used on me. I dart my eyes back and forth looking at everything trying to take everything in. There was too much going on between the furniture and the art that covered the wall.. I stretch out on the couch, “Best to be safe and just stay right here.” I mumbled to myself as my eyelids start to fall.

I jolt up and gasp at the sound of the door opening. Everything was dark except a small light coming from the kitchen. I could feel my glasses still on my face. I had to take a second to fully remember what had happened. I shook my head and closed my eyes again. This must be a dream… Right? I laid there with my eyes closed hoping to seem like I was still sleeping. I heard the steps on the dark wooden floor coming towards the living room. I tried to hide under the blanket and kept my eyes shut tightly. I heard an exasperated sigh come from whoever was in the penthouse. I wonder who it could be? One of those two men, or maybe someone else? At this point I feel like it was safer not moving, and pretending to be asleep, rather than trying to see who it is. I heard the steps transition from the hard wood to the soft carpet. I held my breath.

“You know I heard your gasp from the door right?” the blackhaired man’s voice shook me to my core. I peered over the blanket. He was bent over looking at me almost directly in my eyes. “You have quite beautiful green eyes. Too bad they are hidden by your glasses. Tomorrow I will send one of my people here and you will get contacts. Understand?” I shook my head no and replied, “They always hurt my eyes and are absurdly expensive. Plus I look weird without my glasses. I am more comfortable with my glasses.” He stared at me blankly for a moment and burst into laughter. “You are absolutely a riot. You really think I will give you a choice. We will get the twenty four hour kind, and you will wear them. Also, do you not understand I am rich? I literally can buy anything, or anyone, anytime I so choose.” He snaps his fingers and turns around. He says coyly, “You have much to learn little one.”

I sat there and felt the fire of courage rise from my stomach, and I stood up clinging to the blanket, “You do not control me understand that. I don’t care about your status, your money, and who you know. You are nothing but a bully. I do not tolerate being treated like a play thing that fell into a lion's den. You will respect me. I want my opinions to be accounted for. If you want to get rid of me do it. I do not fear death, but I do fear living as if I am not human.” I stared at him coldly and let out a sigh.

He stood there with his back to me. I could see the sparkles of gray hair in the low light, and it felt like the mood shifted from light hearted to a more serious vibe. I waited for him response. Knowing what I said would most likely get me in trouble, or in bad favor with him. I was right.