Chapter Four- I Hate Lying

1825 Words
Sierra I hated lying to Abby. Well, not as much lied as held back information. All she knows is I need to stay with Ambrose because of some trouble my father has gotten into. I will see her on campus; we take most of the same classes, and we also meet outside of class. Ambrose can try to stop me, but it won’t work. It isn’t like I am going off-grid. She tried to ask questions, but Ambrose quickly shot her down, and she dropped it. We are back at his place. I am in “my room”, as Ambrose keeps referring to it. It is not my damn room! I will be out of here at the first opportunity I can get. Sitting at the bottom of the bed, I can’t help but think about my father. I hope he is okay and found somewhere safe. I pray he will be in touch soon, even for a moment, to tell me he is okay. I need him to be safe. The tears build again. A distraction would be beneficial. I glance over my shoulder at the two suitcases and duffel bag with my things. Maybe unpacking will help. I sigh and get to my feet. I put some music on my cell. I brought a lot with me, but not everything. There will be enough to do me for a while. I take my time to organize my things. There is plenty of space. The room has a walk-in closet and two sets of drawers. It doesn’t take as long as I thought to do it. I lie down on the bed. I am exhausted. I didn’t even get an hour’s sleep last night. I roll onto my side. If I lay here long enough, maybe sleep will overcome me. It isn’t like I have anything to do. Ambrose isn’t going to let me go out without him. At least here, I can stay in the room and away from him. I stare at the wall. I hear movement out in the hallway. As long as he doesn’t come in here, I don’t care where he is going. I am soon disappointed when the room door opens. I don’t move and pretend to be asleep. Surely, if I do this, he will leave. His footsteps seem to be getting closer, not further away. I close my eyes in case he comes around to the side I am facing. I am taken aback when he places a blanket over me. Why would he do that? It isn’t like he cares if I get cold. “Rest well, Sierra.” He leaves the room. I noticed he had left the door ajar. I snuggle myself into the warm, fluffy blanket. It is nice and cozy. I let my eyes close back over and finally begin to drift off. I don’t know how long I was out, but I get woken by someone shaking me. I groan and open my eyes to see Ambrose standing over me. “Go away,” I whine. “No, I have someone on the phone who wants to talk to you.” “My dad?” I ask, hopeful. He nods. It wakes me up quickly. I sit up and take the phone from Ambrose. “Daddy, are you okay?” I whimper. “Yes, I am safe, princess. I can only talk for a moment. Are you okay?” he asks. “I am so happy to hear from you. Yes, I am fine; don’t worry about me.” “I am glad you are doing okay. I need to go. I will reach out again as soon as I can. I love you.” I sigh, “Okay. I love you, too. Please be safe.: “Goodbye, princess.” With that, he hangs up. I wish I could have spoken to him for longer, but I understand. “Why did he call you and not me?” “Because this cell has a secure line. It is only your father who can call it,” he replies. “Oh, okay. I understand.” I pull my knees to my chest and hug them. I stop from crying. I refuse to cry in front of Ambrose. I expect him to leave, but he doesn’t. He sits on the bed. “I know this is a lot, Sierra, but he is going to be okay. He won’t be alone in this,” he says softly. Why is he being nice? “I should be with him.” I whimper. “No, you shouldn’t be. You are where you are supposed to be.” I roll my eyes. I would rather be anywhere else but here. “Thank you for bringing the cell up to me. You can leave now.” “You will come downstairs and eat.” “Why? I had breakfast. I am not hungry.” “Sierra, it is seven at night. You need to eat. You have been asleep for hours. Dinner is ready. I am not asking.” He states firmly and leaves. I didn’t expect to sleep for so long. I did need it. I groan and slip out of bed. If I don’t go downstairs, he will continue to nag me until I do. I pull a hoodie over my clothes and head down. Ambrose is impatiently waiting at the bottom of the stairs. The second I am in front of him, he motions for me to follow him. He leads us past the kitchen. Where are we going? He guides me into the dining room. The table is set up. Two plates are set out with our meals on them. It is a cheeseburger, fries, a side salad and some pickles. The burgers and fries look homemade. “Did you make them?” I ask. I am sure he has someone to cook for him, even if I haven’t seen a personal chef around. “Yes. Don’t seem so surprised. Sit and eat,” he says, pulling the chair out for me. I am confused about why he insists we eat our meals together. I would rather eat alone in my room. I take a seat. Ambrose pours me a glass of wine before he takes his seat. Everything looks delicious. I thank him and take a sip of my wine before I start my meal. I am hungrier than I thought. We eat in silence—an awkward one. I try to ignore the awkwardness in the air. “What time do you need to leave tomorrow? Do you have classes or work?” “I have classes from nine to three. The following day, I work from eight to six,” I answer. “Okay, I will drop you off at campus on my way to the office. Two members of my security team will park close to campus until I pick you up at the end of your classes. I will give you a direct number to my team. You will have them on speed dial. I am going to pick you up a new cell. It will be a secure number, and the software will be added to make it more difficult to trace.” “Can’t I just keep mine, and you can add the software to that?” He shakes his head, “No. It isn’t up for discussion.” I sigh and shake my head. I don’t see the point in trying to argue with him. I want to ask again about what has happened with my father, but it would be pointless because he won’t tell me. I hate that I don’t know how long I am going to have people watching over me. I won’t be able to do anything without having Ambrose or one of his henchmen with me. It will make things weird when it comes to dating. How do I explain all of this to them? I am a woman with needs, but how am I supposed to get them fulfilled? s*x and dating are the last things on my mind right now, but they will be things I require, eventually. “Am I going to be alone at any time?” “It depends on what you mean by alone. You will be alone in your classes and at work. Also, in your room here. Other than that, probably not.” “I need my space, Ambrose,” I whine. “You will have your space, but someone will always be nearby.” Maybe he should just lock me up in the damn room. I know I am under protection, but all of this is bullshit and too much. “This is overkill! I can’t even have a life.” “Believe what you want, Sierra, but everything is to make sure you are safe. I am not saying you can’t see your friends. Only when you do, someone will be with you at a close distance.” “I am not hungry anymore.” I snap and get to my feet. I grab my glass and the bottle of wine and rush back to my room. I ate more than half. It will keep me going until tomorrow or later tonight, when he is in bed. I close the door behind me. I change into my pjs, getting comfortable on the bed. I find a movie to watch. I finish my glass of wine. I go to pour another one but decide to drink it from the bottle. I may as well drown my sorrows. I take a long swig from the bottle. I hate drinking alone, but what choice do I have? A loud knock on the door makes me roll my eyes. I am surprised he didn’t barge in. I ignore it. He knocks again, louder this time. Can’t he get the hint? The door swings open, and a pissed off looking Ambrose walks in. “What do you want now?” I snarl. “For you to drop the f*****g attitude.” He snarls back. “You are one to talk about attitude.” “Yes, because you are the one who pisses me off.” “There is a simple fix. You let me go home and forget I exist.” “Not happening. You will stay here for as long as you need to. Get over it and grow up.” He hisses. “Go to hell, Ambrose,” I yell, tempted to launch my glass at his face, but there is never an excuse for violence. “I am already in hell.” He storms off and slams the door behind him. I threw the glass at the door, and it shattered on the floor. At least I held out and didn’t throw it at him. I let out a cry of frustration. I need to get out of this hellhole!
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