Ms. Calloway

Darkness. Mildew. Bumpy. Dry. Dripping water. All five senses are heightened. All are on high alert as I slowly come to. The darkness evading my vision is tied there by the knot at the back of my head. With shaky fingers, I untie the knot and remove the bandana from my eyes. Beyond the darkness of the bandana is a dimly lit room. Room being a loose term to describe the space. There are four walls. No windows. A rotting door. A small puddle of water in the corner of the room, developing over time from the pipe dripping water above. A rusty bucket in the other corner. The lumpy mattress and creaky metal frame beneath me. This seems less like a room and more like a prison.

After a couple seconds, flight or fight kicks in. However, the moment my feet touch the cement floor and my body leaves the bed, the room instantly begins spinning. Feeling as if I’m in the middle of a wild tornado, trying to sweep me up like it did Dorothy, I lower myself back down on the bed. With my head buried in my hands, my memories try to sort out the most recent events I can remember. Roman. He left. Heart racing, I dig deeper. Vivien. I was leaving the building. My bike. Where was my bike? It was dark. James. I couldn’t see my bike. A sense of overwhelming fear consumes me as I recall the short conversation I shared with James. Then, something covering my mouth. Finally, complete darkness. James. He took me.

Just as the memories of events flood in, the door opens to reveal the one and only James Harris. My body responds before my brain has the chance to understand the danger he possesses. One second I’m at the edge of the bed and the next, I’m pressing my back firmly against the back frame of the bed. I’m surprised by the look of hurt in his eyes. It’s not like I kidnapped him and locked him away from the rest of society.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Princess.” He promised, closing the door behind him.

“Don’t call me that.” I hissed. It takes everything in me to sound as brave as possible, even when I feel my throat tightening with tears that threaten to spill at any second. I should be afraid of him. I am. But I won’t let him use the affectionate nickname Roman gave me. Not on his traitorous lips.

Sighing, he sets the tray of food - eggs, bacon, pancakes, and a side of toast - on the bed beside me. “Come on. Don’t be like that.” He sits next to the tray. Smart. Put the distance between us.

“Don’t be like what?!” My own voice scares me. It’s hysterical, angry, thick with fear. It doesn’t sound like me at all. “You kidnapped me! And now you’re stuffing me away.”

“Wait. Wait. Wait.” He holds a finger up to stop me from going any further. “I didn’t kidnap you. I simply borrowed you.”

“Borrowed me?!”

“Borrowed you for the time being.” He continues. “You will go home, at some point. Go back to your normal life and all its glory. But for now, I need you here. With me.”

“You can’t just borrow people!” My voice is rising by the second. The tears that I tried so hard to hold back, finally fell. “I want to go home. Please let me go home.”

“Once Roman gives me what I want, you will be returned home safely. I promise. Don’t you trust me?” The same charming smile he flashed me that first night we met takes over his full lips, but this time it’s less charming. This time I see beyond the charisma and look into the wolf’s eyes. This man is not prince charming, but the big bad wolf in disguise.

“Trust you?! I barely even know you. And then you took me against my will! Why do you think Roman will come here for me? He left without a word and has no reason to come back.”

“For someone so smart, Grace, you can be incredibly stupid. The second he hears that his precious princess is being held away in a tower far far away, he’ll come riding in on his white horse to save the day. I’m counting on it.” Obviously pleased by his plan, he takes a piece of bacon from the tray and pops it in his mouth.

“That’s not going to happen. Not in a million years. What do you want from him anyways? What do you want so badly that would excuse you keeping me here against my will?” My stomach is growling from hunger, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me give in.

“I understand you’re not from our world, but you’re seeing this all wrong. If I wanted you dead, you would be dead by now.” He said this as if it’s supposed to comfort me. “I want territory. And maybe if your little boyfriend wasn’t so fucking greedy, we wouldn’t be in this situation. But, Roman Berkshire is a greedy bastard who expects everything to go his way. So, I’m taking his toy for the time being, until he decides to be a good little boy and learn to share.”

A toy. He only saw me as a toy. Some useless toy that he could take away whenever he felt like. A toy he could also get rid of if he found it useless. This is the straw that breaks the camel’s back. “A toy?!” Unlike before, I find it easier to jump to my feet and stand steadily. “I’m a person. I’m not some bargaining tool or toy. I don’t know what the fuck you want from him or me, but I can tell you this isn’t the way you’re going to get it. You’re wasting your time.” On any other day, I would have been ashamed and embarrassed of my foul language, but this situation demands it. This man before me doesn’t deserve respect. And he’s lucky I can’t do anything worse than foul language to express the anger and hatred pulsing through my veins.

Shaking his head, defeated, he stands. “Clearly, this conversation isn’t going anywhere today. Maybe tomorrow you’ll be ready to have more of an adult conversation. But until then, eat. Sit with your thoughts. Try to see it from my point of view, Grace.”

Boiling with anger, my hands find the tray of food and throw it across the room. My hands work faster than my brain because once my brain catches up, I’m reminded that I’m still hungry. “Adult conversation?! I’m sorry, James, but we will never see eye to eye on this. I will never forgive you for this.”

“Guess we’ll simply have to agree to disagree. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll excuse the bad behavior this time. Cam will bring you a new tray of food. I recommend you not throw it this time. He’s a lot less patient than me.” With that, he turns to leave the room, leaving me stunned by the threat. By the time I realized I had the opportunity to get out, he closed the door behind him. Once again, I’m left to try to piece together how I got in this situation.