Compelled ( 2nd book in the Forced Series)

Chapter 29

~unedited~

Chapter 29

Hazel watched the car disappear, but even then she stood at the door. She knew that she should have felt elated that Van goth was making strides to being the mam she fell for, but all she felt in that moment was dread.

She was home alone again, in this big house. A big house with three bedrooms and bathrooms, kitchen, living-room, garage, study and washroom. A big house where she could not see everything all at once.

Hazel took what she hoped to be a calming breath; which filled her lungs with the frosty December air and sent a chill through her body. She turned, stepping into the house and closed the door, locking and engaging the security system without turning her back to the living-room. She then pulled her robe tighter around her and took long, swift steps, heading pass the living-room and into the kitchen. There, she checked the back door. It was locked. Just as every window and door in the house was. She knew that they were locked but her paranoia said otherwise.

Determined to put her fears behind her, Hazel turned to the kitchen island and grabbed the single used plate and the two mugs from it. She carefully discarded of the remaining scraps of food and then opted to wash the dishes by hand instead of putting them in the dish washer. That plan was scrapped as soon as she realized that washing the dishes by hand meant turning her back to the rest of the house. Hazel packed the dirty things in the dishwasher and turned her back to it.

The house was as silent as a grave.

The thought made her shiver.

When she had left, at first being on her own had been easy. She had not wanted to see anyone who knew about what had happened; who knew that she had failed her unborn child and Van. So she had been fine. But when she had stopped running from her shame at being useless, the nightmares and fears of being taken again started to plague her with a vengeance.

So she checked into a hotel with seemingly good security. Her bank account could not afford more than a week there. But she stayed; for two whole days. Her hotel room had been more suite than anything else. The closed off floor plans for the foyer, sitting area, kitchenette, dining and, bed and bathroom made her feel exposed. Staying in a place with so many rooms with walls, corners and nooks and crannies made Hazel feel as if she were a sitting duck with a big red target sign on her forehead. It was as if the walls had eyes and instead of protecting her from prying eyes, they were hiding the monsters waiting to get her.

So she checked out and went room hunting online. She found a minuscule studio flat in a run-down neighborhood. The only wall that separated the rooms was the walls that kept the bathroom private. And even then Hazel had felt watched. So she put deadbolts on both sides of the door so that she could always tell from either sides that it was securely locked. Hazel applied the same logic to her front door and the one window.

And ironically, it was in that rundown apartment that she had felt safe, hiding away from the world; hiding away from her shame.

*compelled*

Her shoulders sagged in relief. Hazel took a step back from the door and turned, walking down the drive towards the taxi waiting at the curb. Less than half an hour by herself and she had felt as if she was going to explode from how tense she was. Even the prospect of seeing her family had become enticing.

Her first stop in the city was her parents' home. It was in a neighborhood that she knew to be less affluent than the one she grew up in. The townhouses all looked the same with white sash windows set into the face of the red brick walls. Hazel sat in the car watching the house. She could not see inside but could guess at what would be going on inside. It was still early enough that both Lionel, her father, and Violet, her younger sister, would be home. Hazel knew that Violet, who would be turning 18 at the end of the year, had been taken from the prestigious prep school she had been attending, and was now attending a public academy nearby. So the brown haired beauty would, without a doubt, be 'doll-ing herself up' to leave for school. Lionel, on the other hand would be in the dining room, with his wife, eating breakfast, probably giving a sermon of a comment on something he did not agree with in the newspaper.