Big Daddy Wants Me

8: Dolores.

I’m stunned, shocked, and shattered as I stare at the ceiling. It’s more of a prison cell now than a bedroom. I feel conned, cheated, betrayed.

Used.

No…worse than that. It’s a feeling so sharp and so terrifying that I’m barely able to admit it…

I feel heartbroken.

When Fred took me – when I called him Daddy – something changed inside me. A safety, unlike anything I had ever known, swept over me like a warm blanket. I felt at home in his arms, and when he made me a woman, I felt as though the universe had delivered to me the man I was meant to be with.

And then, for some reason, he tore himself away and threw me aside like a dirty napkin.

After taking my virginity…

After coming inside of me…

“s**t…” I mutter, covering my hands with my face. I can still feel it inside me, warm and sticky, a reminder of what we just did. He may have stretched me, but I feel full of him still – full of his seed.

When I was caught up in the moment and convinced he was the man for me, I was happy to take it. No, I was ecstatic. The sensation drove me over the edge and into a climax that rocked my world. But now, knowing Fred will never be there for me, and knowing the consequences of letting something like that happen…

I’m so scared I’m sweating and shaking.

A baby.

God help me if I end up pregnant, unable to return home and not cared for by the man responsible. What the hell am I going to do?

A surge of anger flares inside me, and I leap to my feet and storm from my room and race over to Fred’s. I try the handle, but it’s locked, so I begin pounding on the door with all my strength.

“You can’t just back out now! Not after what you just did! What happens if I get pregnant? Did you think of that!?”

No answer. I pound harder, ignoring the pain flaring in my wrists. I’m hysterical. I know that, but I don’t care. The fear of an uncertain future is too much for me to handle.

“You can’t just use people like this!” I scream, my voice tearing its way from my throat. “You can’t! You can’t…”

My legs give out, and I slump to the floor in a heap, tears streaming from my eyes, my head pressed against Fred’s unbreakable door. It might as well be the door to heaven that I’m not worthy enough to open.

I don’t know how long I lie there, sobbing and pathetic, but it’s long enough for me to lose any hope that Fred might open the door, sweep me into his arms, and confess his love for me.

When I finally stand, I’m sore. Not just from what he did to me physically, but from the rest. Wiping my cheeks, I start back toward my room, but when I reach the door, I stop.

“No,” I whisper. “I can’t…”

What happens next? I go inside, sleep, wake up tomorrow to find more food on the table for me to cook, make myself a meal, and then sit around all day while Fred goes about his life without me?

Or maybe he stays with me. Sleeping in his bedroom, out of sight, but close enough to touch.

That would be hell.

I would rather not live than face that type of future.

A sinking feeling takes me, starting in my chest and finding its way all the way down to the pit of my stomach. I turn and glance at the door – the one leading outside. I remember what Fred told me. What he warned me about. But…

“It’s the only way.”

I walk until I reach it, but once it’s open, I’m sprinting into the night.

The darkness overwhelms me as soon as I’m away from the house, but it doesn’t frighten me. I welcome it. I’m not even wearing shoes, and sticks and stones from the Fred floor cut into my feet, but I don’t even notice the pain.

Fred took something from me – far more precious than my innocence. He robbed me of a future under the guise of saving my life. But what use is a life that you can’t live? Am I supposed to remain here in this house, locked away from the world like Rapunzel to raise a fatherless child, hoping every day that the man responsible will come around and love me?

Never. I’d rather be dead.

The moon is high in the sky, bathing the trees in a silvery glow. I see a small path ahead of me, barely visible. I take it, jumping stumps and ducking overhanging branches as I run. Where am I going? I don’t know.

Anywhere but here.

I can still smell Fred on me – the man, not the one surrounding me.

Every time I put a foot forward, I feel his seed slip out of me and run down my thighs. Maybe if I run hard enough it will all come out…

My heart feels like it’s ready to burst. Every breath I take is painful. As I run, I think about Fred’s last words to me.

“Life isn’t a fairy tale like one of your books. And I’m no prince.”

Somewhere in the distance, I hear the howl.

Wolves…

I thought he was lying. But I guess not. What have I gotten myself into?

A blinding light stops me in my tracks. I raise my hands to cover my face and hear the sound of a man – a disappointed man grunting. Then I hear footsteps coming closer.

“Don’t run,” Fred says. “I can catch you.”

The light switches off, and I open my eyes, blinking the stars from my vision, to see Fred walking toward me, his hulking frame silhouetted by moonlight.

He’s also carrying a rifle.

“Or what!?” I scream, my anger soaring to new heights. “You’ll finish the job and shoot me!?”

“Don’t be stupid.”

Without warning, I burst out laughing. “Stupid!? Ha! How stupid, Fred? Like giving-my-virginity-to-a-hitman-stupid? Or trying-to-escape-that-same-man-holding-me-hostage-stupid? Which one?”

I want him to argue. Desperately. I just want him to say something. Anything so I can know what he’s thinking. But he can’t even give me that. He walks right up to me and takes me by the arm and begins leading me back down the path to the house.

I feel my resistance fading as my energy drains from me.

It’s clear now; there’s nothing I can do. Nowhere I can go. I’m Fred’s prisoner now. I belong to him whether I like it or not. He knew I’d try to run. He knew I’d find the path and follow it, and he came out here and waited for me.

He’s not only bigger than I am; he’s smarter too.

I hear the howl again and welcome it. Yeah, maybe the wolves should come down here and tear me to pieces. That would be a fitting end to a silly girl in one of Grimm’s fairy tales.

Something moves in the corner of my vision, and I look to see shadows moving through the trees. Fred releases me and pulls the bolt back on his rifle. Without a word, he takes aim and fires.

The crack of the shot assaults my ears and rings out through the night, echoing off the trees like some terrible laugh. A trunk shatters, and the shadows of the predators vanish into the darkness. Again, Fred takes hold of my arm in his vise-like grip.

“You should just let them eat me…” I mutter.

I want him to reply. Even if it’s just to tell me I’m a silly little b***h. But he won’t even give me that, and we walk back to the house in silence.

No, not the house. The prison. My prison.