eighteen

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She had had this discussion with herself many a times but it still annoyed her every time. Who would want to name their child a name they fancy but do not understand. Name = reputation.

Hell's parents were—she had no idea how Hell's parents are, or how they looked—he kept no pictures. But she would like to know what they were thinking while they gave him the name, Hell. Was it because they liked the way the name sounded powerful? Because it appealed to them that when Hell should cross your mind, you're reminded of death, the devil, Satan himself, or simply because they wanted their son to live up to the name to become a sadistic Bastard who finds delight in torturing and harming people, or, simply because.

But she had an idea that they wanted him to live up to his name. Wanted him to be as powerful and as feared as the name commanded.

  She stared at him with his eyes pinned straight ahead. She was scared of what she was going to see in the cell. Didn't want to, because she had an idea and she didn't want to be disappointed. Disappointed with him. Disappointed about what they were building.

Sucking in a deep breath, she peered into the dark cell walls. The figure heavily dragged it's feet on the ground after Hell demanded it to come out. With every footstep it took closer, Rowan's heart pounded. She was scared.

And then, it was there, the figure was right in front of her eyes. In a shaky breath, she let out the breath she didn't know she had been holding until it became hard to breath as tears dropped from her eyes, rolling down her cheeks as her eyes remained unblocking on it. Her father.

He was the dryed-to-the-bones version of the father she used to see every day for 14 years. His head appeared to hide from his bony body to carry. The head once filled with brown hair always in a sailor's cut was now bare, only a few strands remained. And she knew how much he loved his hair. She was choking but she wasn't aware.

Hell wanted to help her. He saw the horror, watched the disappointment on her face and knew it was for him. He was now having second thoughts about showing her her father locked up and he just knew she wasn't going to be forgiving him any time soon from the way she wasn't even looking at him.

His face was sunken his eye sockets, his eyes remained, this honey brown colour that was always so warm—and now, it was full of fright. And this was all Hell's doing. As if it wasn't worse, her dad was forced to carry, drag a set of chain tied from his arm to his legs to a post she couldn't see. He was made a prisoner! What could he possibly have done to deserve this?

Her dad isn't this person. He couldn't even hurt a fly. He was a patient, caring, kind man who believed in putting himself first before other people. Everybody had respected him in their little village they had lived in, and he was so close to being made their chief but she left, before she was absconded and her father was made, forced to lived like this in the same house she had been wining and dining with the devil himself! Yet he expects her to accept him as what, a soul mate. Fuckstick.

"Rowan," her name, the devil called registered in her head through her rage but she didn't look at him.

"Before you judge, I want you to ask me why I did it. You know I wouldn't do anything without a reason—"

"Did I?" she said a smirk taking shape on her face. She didn't know anything about Hell. Didn't want to. She was done.

As she had been studying her father, likewise he was doing the same to his daughter. The guilt had been killing him and worry he hadn't gotten his money worth, guilt that she had suffered almost a worse treatment than he did. He looked at her hands and legs. She was crying. Did she know what he had been about to do?

"Baby girl," was he still allowed to call her pet names. He was taken aback when her eyes angrily flashed to his. He was scared but he had to get it off his chest. He was surprised when she started to stand. Placing her cast on the ground. Did she even notice she was walking? How? He was so sure she had been injured? He wanted to look at the man, the one who ordered him caged, but he couldn't meet his eyes. No one could.

"Don't," Hell hissed but it fell unto deaf ears. Rowan not aware of her actions, was still walking towards her father. As she reached to touch him, she snapped back to her senses as her knuckles hit the cell steel bar.

"Daddy," the tears were streaming down her face. She couldn't even touch him.

Her father tried to inch closer but the chains he was cuffed in restricted him. "I had no idea that you would still come to see me even after you found out. So forgiving," he muttered like it was a bad thing. "I had reasons, personal reasons why I did. I love you." as if stung, she retracted herself from the doors.

"What are you talking about?" she frowned and grew wary. What now? First Hell, and now her father? What did he do.

"Didn't he tell you?—" he, Hell? She shook her head, no. "I wanted to trade you off to a man that day, three years ago, when you thought we were going camping. But things went wrong, and now you're here. And, I'm here."

She had prepared for the worst, tried but nothing, nothing had prepared her for this. The stinging betrayal she felt, the despair she was in.  The anguish and heartbreak she was feeling.  But she held it in. Didn't want to let go of the sanity she had barely hanging on a thread.

Didn't want to break down yet, not now. And she had to know why, before she ran.

Why? Rowan wanted to scream. She is the daughter of her father. He birthed her. Why did he want to sell her off to someone and in exchange for what?

"What were you going to get in exchange?" she chuckled. She didn't find it funny, she was curious. What was she worth in her father's eyes. What did he want that she hadn't come close.

She watched his eyes, the brown eyes she once saw love, happiness in was now a eyes filled with regret. Empty. Loathe. It didn't move her. She saw the hesitation before he answered. Too afraid to say?

"10,000 dollars." she was repulsed. He was after the money. Was that all he saw her as? A money bag?

"Was this also how you sold Mom off? Did you also lie about her dying to Cancer?" he had also been pretty evasive and two-faced about how her Mom died. Always changing the story every time. One moment he could say she died of cancer at home or she died because she fell down the stairs, or she died in an accident. She had chosen to believe the cancer story. She had no idea how her Mom died, she had been three then. One moment her mom was smiling, happy in the house, the next she was, gone.

"Yes." he didn't even try to cover up. Didn't look ashamed of it even. "I wanted money, you were both too much of a burden. I had needs, dammit! Don't you look at me with that face, I always hated it, made me feel guilty." he said laughing.

He didn't even regret his actions.

"Oh." in a robotic movement, she scratched her head. Looking around. Exit. Exit. EXIT. There it was, behind Hell she hadn't known was still in the room. She didn't see him, didn't want to. Only one word was in her head, one word she was muttering as she spotted the exit.

Run.

Hell knew what was going in in her head. He knew what her father had just said. He had found out the Bastard had also traded his wife to one Alpha, but unfortunately, Hell wasn't able to get her back. She had died in the Alpha's hands.

He knew what Rowan was about to do when he saw her turning and turning looking for a way to bolt. He wanted to stop her, wanted to rush to her side and comfort her. Wanted to break all of her father's bones until he stopped cackling like a crow. But he did nothing but watch her mad movements.

She just spotted the exit. She didn't think. She blindly ran/hobbled for it, and this time, he let her.
















Author's Note:
         The End.

   unedited.

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