❤ Stockholm Syndrome 🔫 | ✔

🖤 Chapter 6 🖤

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I spend what feels like an eternity inside the torture room. I shout with all my might for James to come and release me from my bonds, but I know he won't. I cry, my sobs getting louder and louder as time presses on.

Stop this crying, I tell myself. You can make it through this. All you have to do is play by his rules, and when the time is right, seize the opportunity to escape.

I'm done with this marriage, a marriage I didn't ask for, one which is worse than an arranged marriage. I just need to pretend that I love James, and everything will go as planned. Think. What can I do to escape this room? Maybe if I behave, when he's undoing my shackles, I can knock him out and escape!

What an excellent idea, I tell myself, and smile with satisfaction.

The door opens and James enters with a tray. Two things are being carried on it: a platter covered with a silver lid, and a cup.

"I figured you'd be hungry since you haven't really eaten much in days," he says.

'Eaten much'? You mean eaten at all!

So, I brought something for you to eat." He smiles as he closes the door, then he walks over to the table with the torture tools, setting the tray down on it. He uncovers the platter and reveals some chicken nuggets and fries with ketchup decorating the entire meal.

How are chicken nuggets supposed to full me, James? I'd be hungry again before you know it.

I keep my thoughts to myself, though. He loosens the restraint around my head and I immediately feel a rush of relief in my neck, as I am able to move my head around again.

A knock comes from the door and James briskly walks over to it, opening it slightly to collect a chair from someone on the other side.

"Thank you, Cedric," I hear him mumble while closing the door.

He sets the chair down in front of mine, then takes the tray from the table. He sits and rests the tray on his lap.

Lifting one of the nuggets to my mouth he says, "Dinner is served. Now, eat." But I turn away my head; I didn't want him to feed me. "Don't make me have to strap your head down again," he threatens.

I reluctantly turn and open my mouth as he shoves the nugget into it; I almost choke. "You could at least feed it to me in pieces, so that I don't choke to death," I say after swallowing.

"That's why I brought this for you, too." He lifts the cup. As he tilts it on my lips, the sudden strong and sour taste of grape causes me to have lockjaw. But because I love grape, I take a few more sips and swallow everything it along with another piece of a chicken nugget.

The meal actually tastes great, and I've grown accustomed to the sour taste of the grape juice. Now, my stomach insists that I eat the remainder of my meal.

James leans back in his chair as I chew. "Did you get any sleep?" he asks.

"What do you think?" I say after swallowing.

"You were crying for a while until you weren't. So, I guess you did."

"I was groaning from whichever point you stopped hearing me," I answered. "I didn't sleep at all, thanks to being strapped down in this chair, and the growling of an empty stomach."

"Well, at least you're being fed now." He gives me one of his bright smiles that makes me want to punch his perfectly aligned and white, pearly teeth out of his beautiful mouth. Why are you admiring his teeth?

"I know," I reply coldly.

"Don't you have something to say?" He asks, giving me one of the fries that was drowned in ketchup.

"Like?" I answer while chewing. My husband looks at me, dumbfounded, then gets up from the chair, lifting the tray up as he does. His brows are furrowed and his face is red. "What did I do?"

"It's what you didn't do," he says. He walks away towards the door and opens it. "Until you learn to have some manners, you won't eat."

Ohhh, he wanted a 'thank you'? Are you kidding me? "You can't do this! You can't! You just can't!" I yell, but he ignores me and leaves.

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☆ MARDAIS ☆

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