It had been 2 and a half weeks since I've been here.
A lot? Yeah, I know.
I've maintained my quietness and kept my distance, but my faith in Kellz saving me was slim to none.
I couldn't access him on my Apple Watch because it was dead, and nobody else around here seemed to own one—so a charger wasn't possible.
Zell was somewhere on another "business trip," or at least that's what Caitlin calls them.
Trust me, I've tried escaping while he was gone, but there are guards at every door, right along with cameras.
He's supposed to be back today, so a big dinner is to be made.
I've painted at least 20 pieces in the past week, and each one, Zell hangs up in a room he calls "my exhibit."
He's still doing these gestures to get me to talk, but I don't bother. I just let him do what he does for me.
I still hate him, and I will never forget about the pain he caused Quan.
I wonder what drove him to kill his brother's mom and force him to do all that he did.
Knowing that scares me away from him more and more.
He's like this big bad guy that does all this messed up stuff but acts completely different in this environment.
Every day, I wonder what Kellz is doing—if he misses me like I miss him.
If his heart aches for me the way mine does for him.
Most importantly, I hope he's okay.
I remember what he told me would happen if I ever disappeared, and now that I am gone, I pray that he's holding on for me.
I'm currently finishing up the last chapter of a random book I chose to read.
The days are getting repetitive.
I'm so bored of living the same day over and over.
Some days, I don't even open my mouth.
That's partly my fault because I'm so stubborn—I refuse to speak to Zell knowing everything has to go through him.
I need to watch Criminal Minds tonight or I'll lose my mind.
"Zell will be home in un hora. He ask Que tú wear something nice for him. He gave you a few pieces to choose from," Caitlin told me.
Each option, I hated.
But the cream-colored silk dress was the one I hated the least.
It was long, had a split at the thigh, and my chest was a little exposed.
I actually loved the dress... just hated that he liked me in this color.
Nonetheless, I got in the shower and put it on.
Afterwards, Caitlin curled my hair—she did everything.
I wouldn't be surprised if she knew how to do nails too.
I put on the jewelry and after two hours passed, I started to get worried.
Zell wasn't here, and everyone was acting weird.
As I did my daily lap around the house, I grew tired and ended up falling asleep on the couch.
He was taking too long, and I was tired.
⸻
I woke to the sound of loud groans and a lot of movement.
I followed the noises tiredly, only to find Zell in the bathroom, blood all over his face.
His cheek was spilling blood.
I just stood there—I didn't know if I should feel bad or just let him bleed.
We locked eyes and I turned away, walking back to my room.
He got all this money—I'm sure there's a nurse he got on speed dial.
There's no way I'm helping him.
Although I did wonder what happened, I didn't care enough to ask.
I just took the dress off and laid in the bed.
Right as I was about to close my eyes, Caitlin walked in.
I hoped she would just assume I was asleep.
"Zell te necesita," she said, her voice a little shaky.
I blinked slowly, trying to understand.
Spanish from high school wasn't saving me.
"He should be fine. It's nothing but a face cut," I replied stubbornly.
"Ese tajo va desde la cara al pecho. And it's deep, mi niña... he needs you," she said, her voice filled with worry.
"Sorry. I only know a little Spanish," I said, confused.
"That cut? It go from his cara to his pecho and it's bad. Por favor, help him. I know that what he did has no forgiveness, pero por favor. He's my only nieto I have left."
Nieto?
Like... grandson?
These two are related?
No way.
Caitlin is like this sweet old lady with curly hair.
Her having a grandson like him is... insane.
Still, I knew I'd have to help.
Only because of her though.
She's helped me a lot while I've been here—trying her hardest to make me comfortable.
"Tell him to come in here. I'll need a stitching kit and lots of bandages," I sighed.
I tied my hair up in a claw clip and got out of bed, throwing on the robe he'd gotten me.
"Gracias, corazoncito," she said, her eyes teary.
I just nodded with a small, fake smile.
Curse my good heart.
I wish I was evil like Zell.
Then maybe I would've just stayed asleep.
I just had to feel a little empathy.
A few minutes later, after she left, Ron came in.
I grabbed his hand, leading him to the bathroom.
I unbuttoned his shirt angrily, and he just stood there watching me.
The cut was deep—way deeper than I expected.
It made me wonder what the hell happened... and what weapon was even used.
I grabbed a towel and gently cleaned the blood from his face and chest.
His whole body was cold.
Was there any warmth in this man?
I poured alcohol on the wound, not even warning him.
Then I grabbed the stitching kit and started to sew him up.
His groans got louder with each stitch, but I didn't care.
He deserved every bit of this.
As I was finishing, he grabbed my hand.
I looked up at him.
He stared at me like I belonged to him.
"Why didn't you help me at first?" he asked.
"Do you deserve to be helped?" I shot back.
He knew he didn't.
So starting an argument wasn't worth it.
"I'm not as bad as you think I am. I got my reasons for everything," he said.
I squinted, confused.
"What could possibly make you do that to your brother?" I asked.
"I was in some deep shit. Shit you wouldn't even wanna know. And because of it, my brother got pulled in. Things got hectic.
My team ain't touch his mom—I loved that lady like she was my own."
His eyes softened.
I could hear some truth in his voice... but people lie too well.
"That explains nothing. So when you're ready to actually talk to me, let me know.
Until then—I'm staying silent."
I walked off, back to the room.
I could hear the shower start behind me, then the bathroom door close.
Later, he came in and laid beside me.
"Your silence is killing me.
I'm ready now, Shanice."
