much. I could feel myself slipping back into my depression as I went through my
days, mundane as ever, like the good little robot they all wanted me to be. Most
days, I felt emotionless, doing things of no interest just to keep Darren happy.
He tried to spend more time with me, though I was less than enthused. I was
still pissed about Holly’s death, and when he explained that it was unlikely she
would have made it off the island alive in the first place, it didn’t help much. I
didn’t argue with him; instead, I’d nod my head and do my best to remain
complacent, almost to the point I thought I would bore him. When we fucked, I
didn’t fuck him back; I just laid there, came when he made me, and waited for him
to finish. I no longer cared. I didn’t know if that was a good thing or not, but I had a
feeling if I became too dull, he would once again try to light my fuse. But the truth
was I wasn’t interested in interacting with him, not in the same way, at least.
I no longer felt the need to push his buttons because that would require
attention on my part; that would only give him the edge he wanted. I knew I
couldn’t ignore him. I’d been punished for that before. So I just gave him the bare
minimum, which I had a feeling would become exhausted soon. The push was
coming. I could feel it. I just didn’t know what form it would take.
But the more troubling problem was … I almost wanted him to light the fucking
fuse.
As more time inched by, I quickly became bored out of my fucking skull. I had no
short-term goals, nothing to motivate me to accomplish anything except for
Darren’s orders that I do something “productive” every day. With everything as
controlled as it was, it didn’t take long for me to realize how much I lived for the
tension between Darren and me.
Yeah, he was dangerous as hell, terrified the shit out of me, and would hurt me if
I got out of line, but fuck if I didn’t love to play with fire. It got me off, and I knew it
worked the same way for him. Maybe I was truly becoming a masochist because
when I knew shit was about to get real, I felt more alive than a baby bird taking its
first flight from the nest.
In the middle of the week, Darren was working from home, and after I’d finished
painting a new piece, I’d been told I’d be meeting Sid for a reason that no one would
tell me about.
“Wait, what?”
“Please follow us, Miss Jaden,” Clive had said, directing me from my room out
into the hallway.
“I want to talk to Darren,” I retorted, remaining firm in my position. I wanted to
know why the fuck I was meeting with Sid. I hadn’t seen him much since our last
“private” conversation on the island.
“He’s busy. Now, come on,” Owen quipped.
I balled my fists in my bands until my knuckles turned white. This was it. This
was Darren lighting my fuse. But he wasn’t just putting a match to a wick. This was
gasoline on a bonfire.
“Fine,” I spat and stormed through the hallway as they escorted me to some
private office downstairs, coincidentally, not far from Darren’s office. This was
stupid. He was just going to listen in on everything I said and then I’d be in trouble
for telling the truth when he didn’t like it. This was a fucking trap, and it wasn’t
fair.
Clive and Owen opened the double doors, and I found Sid sitting on one of the
couches in the center of the room. There was another comfy looking couch across
from him, with a small coffee table with a tray of tea and snacks laid out.
“Hello, Jaden,” Sid said with a warm smile. I responded with my usual bitchface.
“Sid,” I said.
“Have a seat, please.” He gestured toward the couch, and I took a seat while
Clive and Owen closed the door and stood a few feet behind the couch. “Would you
like some tea?”
“No, thank you.”
Sid took a sip of his own mug before setting it down on the tray and picking up
his notepad. I felt the tension increase.
“Well, I thought you and I could have a nice private chat, just between the two of
us.”
“Private?” I said, pointing my thumb over my shoulder in the direction of my
shadows.
“You can speak freely here, Jaden. There won’t be any penalties for what will be
spoken today.”
“Yeah, right. You have no authority to guarantee that.”
“You have Darren’s word,” he said seriously.
“His word by your association?”
“I promise you, he approved this. Please don’t feel hindered by
