Lock and Chain

(Explicit content- 16+) What do you long for? A beautiful house? An expensive car? Eternal happiness? Acceptance? All through her life, Kadence Emery has been bullied, rejected and chained up by her father. Other girls long for a beautiful body, a hot boyfriend, all the riches in the world. Kadence only longs for acceptance and a life that she is happy to live.

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2. Chapter One

 

I crept across the landing as silently as possible. If he heard me, I would be beaten for sure. I don't really know when it all started to be honest. Maybe that one day when I was seven.

 

I ran across the damp grass, my black hair flying out behind me. I tripped over something in the grass, but barely hesitated as I stood back up again, brushed myself down and continued running. I wouldn't see my nanny's house until I reached the top of the hill.

I reached the top and placed my hands on my knees, gasping for breath. I controlled my breathing and looked down the other side of the hill at my nan's house, nestled at the bottom of the hill. It was warm here and I preferred here to boring England. Nanny and gramps had moved here to Greece two years ago, and they loved it. I loved staying with my nanny because she always took me to the museums, brought me yummy sweets and cuddly toys. My gramps always took me on his dog walks with their chocolate Labrador, Cocoa. He always treated me to sweet juice when we got back home, often giving me biscuits to go with it.

"Nanny!" I cried when I spotted my nanny's figure bent over some plants in the field that stretched up the hill behind their house.

She looked up at me and waved. I ran down to where she was stood and picked a couple of strawberries before popping one in my mouth and smiling at her.

"Hello cheeky." Nanny teased, placing another strawberry in my mouth. "Where are your mummy and daddy then?"

"Just coming, but I wanted to run over the hill." I pointed to a blue jeep in the distance. "That must be them."

Nanny squinted at the jeep before wiping her hands on her apron and picking up the wicker basket full of strawberries.

"Come on then, let's go an make a cup of tea for them shall we? and we'll see what juice we can find for you. We might even be able to sneak a few biscuits in!" Nanny grinned at me.

I giggled in return and followed her down to the house. Cocoa bounded out the house and leapt up at me, planting his paws on my shoulders and nearly knocking me over. I laughed and stumbled as I struggled to support the dog's weight.

"Down Cocoa!" Nanny said to the dog sternly, seeing that I was struggling.

Cocoa thumped back on to four paws and tipped his head to the side, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. I giggled and rubbed the dog on his head, smiling fondly.

Gramps came out of the house and came over to take the basket from nanny.

"Hello little mushroom." He said to me.

Gramps had called me mushroom for a couple of years now as we used to go mushroom picking in the woods together. Mushroom picking had been my favourite activity and I could manage to pick out most of the edible ones from the inedible ones.

I grinned in return, grabbing his arm and swinging off it. He placed the basket on the floor and picked me up so he could spin me around.

"Dad! What're you doing to Kadence?" Mummy cried, getting out of the blue jeep that had just rumbled into the driveway.

Gramps put me down, winked at me and strode over to mummy. He said a few words before pulling her into a hug. He high-fived daddy affectionately and turned to point at me as he talked to them. Nanny went over to my parents, so I also ran over, Cocoa bounding alongside me, his tail wagging madly. He jumped up at daddy, who pushed him off. Cocoa realised that he was not wanted, so jumped up at mummy instead, who rubbed his head before also pushing him away. I stroked the dog's neck, watching my parents and my grandparents talk with each other.

"Come, now, let's have tea and biscuits." Nanny said after what seemed like hours.

I stood up and brushed down my shorts, which were now very dusty. We all went into the house in a little procession, Cocoa running between us.

***

"Kadence, come here." Mummy said to me without a hint of happiness in her voice.

I lowered my head in shame and went over to where my mummy was stood. She and daddy had been talking for ages outside nanny's house and mummy had finally come in to get me. Nanny and gramps hadn't told me what they were talking about, but they had both been very quiet. Even Cocoa was flopped on the floor, his nose between his front paws.

"Kadence. Me and mummy have been talking about you." Daddy said when I had reached him sat on the iron bench in nanny's back garden. "We are very disappointed in you. You promised before we came that you would be a helpful little girl who would help nanny with the washing, walk the dog with gramps and help me and mummy tidy up. So far you have done none of that. We are disappointed that you have broken your promise, so we have decided that we are going to go home two days early. You don't deserve to stay here, so we are going home on Friday."

"But today is Wednesday, so that only gives us one full day left!" I whined.

"You should have thought about that before you acted so selfishly." Mummy said sternly, sitting on the bench beside daddy, leaving me standing in front of them.

"You are selfish too. You haven't been helping nanny or gramps and you..." I trailed off, spotting the anger forming in daddy's face.

"Do not ever call us selfish. You are a stupid, immature child who cannot see further than the end of her nose. You cannot criticise us of being lazy and not helping nanny and gramps when you have been the laziest brat out of us." Daddy said in a failed attempt at controlling his anger.

Daddy stood up, sending me a few paces backwards. He grabbed hold of my t-shirt roughly, bringing his hand back. He stared me in the eye for a moment before striking me across the face with his hand. Stinging pain spread from the point of contact, but I couldn't reel back as he had a firm hold of my t-shirt. Tears sprung from my eyes and rolled down my face, I threw my hands up to protect myself, but mummy sprung up out her seat and grabbed hold of them, pinning them behind my back. I squeaked in pain, but mummy just dug her finger nails into my hands to get be to be silent. Daddy brought his hand back and struck my face again without a pause.

After about six slaps, mummy let go of my hands and daddy let go of my t-shirt. I collapsed in a heap on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. Mummy bent down towards my ear.

"This never happened. When you're done out here, go straight to your room." She said in a fierce whisper.

I nodded, too frightened to say anything else. I didn't even understand what I had done.

 

I gently eased the fridge door open, reaching inside for a drink and something to eat. He had forgotten to give me anything again. Well, forgotten wouldn't be the right word. He had probably forgotten on purpose. I shook my head, but flinched when a sharp pain jolted across my shoulder blade. My hand shot to my shoulder and I caressed it gently, biting my lip against the pain. I flashbacked to three days previously. Father had pushed me down the stairs again and locked me in the basement. Normally, he locked me in my room and only sent me to the basement when one of his friends wanted some "enjoyment". However, this time, he pushed me into the basement and kept me there. I had only been released a few hours previously.

I removed my hand from my shoulder, pushing the pain away, ignoring it like I do with every other pain that he causes me. I carefully removed a bottle of Coca-Cola and a cold ham sandwich. It would have to do. I couldn't get anything else otherwise he would notice, and that would result in another few days in the basement.

***

"Girl! Get down here!" A sharp voice called up to me curled up on my bare bed.

I groaned, rolling off the bed. I winced as my spine rolled over the wood. I didn't have a mattress or bed sheets, and hadn't had that privilege since I was about eight-years-old, so my bed comprised of the cheap wooden bed frame (that was cracked in several places and squeaked with old age) and a wooden board laid across the slats. I owned one single blanket that was about as useful as a chocolate teapot.

"Yes?" I said, not even questioning as to why he called me 'girl'.

"Don't use that tone with me you worthless piece of shit." My father snapped. "Stand up properly and don't slouch. What have I told you about pulling that disgusting face?"

I stood up as straight as I could with all my bruises and cuts, trying to clear my wince away from my face.

"What is your name again, girl?" He asked, spraying me with spit.

"Kadence."

"Kadence what? Give me a more detailed answer. My friend wants to know your name before he decides whether to come round or not on Thursday."

I knew exactly what he meant when he said his friend was coming round. I understood perfectly well that this friend was not coming round to see my father or to compliment his daughter. My father used me as a way of making money. He invited his friends round, sent us to the basement for a couple of hours, then the friend left, leaving me with pains and my father with some money. According to my father, it was good for everyone. What he didn't understand and never would care to understand, is that I don't appreciate being used by his dirty male friends so my father could have money to buy alcohol and drugs.

I said nothing about his friend and just replied with a set voice, "Kadence Rowan Emery."

"Right." He nodded, taking note of it by scribbling on the wall next to his head. "And how old are you? Fourteen, right?"

Again, another simple fact that he could never get right. I could bet my life that he didn't even know when my birthday was.

"Seventeen." I replied flatly.

"Oh, good. This is all completely legal then and you could never tell the police that I'm forcing you take part in underage sex." He said, a sly grin on his face.

His yellow teeth made me feel sick, but it was nothing compared to the revolting stench of his breath. He didn't seem to understand the concept of a toothbrush, but indulged in alcohol, drugs and all manner of fatty foods. I did not own a toothbrush either because he had never bought me one, but I managed well enough, because he washed my mouth out with soap every time I said something that he disagreed with. Apparently, this was quite frequent.

"Did you have any food yesterday?" He asked, unnaturally calm.

"No." I answered, avoiding his gaze.

"Anything to drink? Coca-Cola perhaps?" I understood what he was doing. I was going to get beaten in a minute because he had discovered that I had taken stuff from the fridge last night.

"No. I haven't had Coca-Cola in years." Okay, maybe that was a bit too far.

"LIAR!" He screamed, pushing me backwards.

My heels were pressed up against the bottom step of the stairs, so I fell back and hit my spine on the edge of the stairs. There was a sickening crack and a roll of white hot pain shot down my spine, bringing tears to my eyes. I blinked fiercely and tried not to show my pain. He would only taunt it and cause more pain, he enjoyed it when I was hurt.

"You fucking lie to me again and I will fucking kill you, you lying brat!"

He grabbed my left ankle, and I bit back a scream as his hand clenched the bone. He dragged me towards the door under the stairs, which opened to reveal a staircase. I knew that it led to the basement, but I also knew that there were seventeen wooden steps, edged with metal, that went down to the bottom. I struggled in his grip, but to no avail.

"You will have no food for three days. Water will be allowed at midday, and that is all. At the end of the time, I will send my friend down to you, so he can teach you a lesson too." He let go of my ankle and bent towards my face, grabbed my chin in his hand. I was forced to look into his repulsive face. "Fucking scream and I will kill you immediately. Don't think that you won't go without torture either. Stay silent and I will let you live. Got that?"

I nodded, purely out of fear and hatred.

He stood back up, picked me up by putting his hands under my arms, and slung me down the stairs. Jerky freeze-frames distorted my view of the basement, but I had been down here enough times to know that I was going to crash into a well-dented metal cupboard at the bottom of the stairs. True to my memory, my back smashed into something very solid, sending more pains shooting through my body. My father didn't even check that I survived the fall before he slammed the door, clicking the lock and plunging me into a darkness that would last three days. My eyes didn't even have time to adjust before I passed out from the pain.

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