Author's note: Thank you guys for reading my story. Please remember to vote and comment and tell me what you think about it. I'm always looking for ways to make it better

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When my eyes began to flutter open there was a terrible throbbing in my head. I was lying down on a bed and there was a blanket covering me. I slowly raised my aching head off the pillow and looked around the room. It was full of wooden furniture: two dressers, a rocking chair, a full-length mirror and a bedframe. The walls were painted a dark green and the windows were covered with red plaid curtains.

I slowly slid off of the bed. My knees were shaking with every step I took, but I managed to make my way over to the window. They were covered in cold, metal bars, it looked just like the bars on the windows in prison cells. Outside it looked like it was a farm. There was a large dry field that looked like it had just been cut, and a barn sat in the back corner.

I heard the door open, and I turned to see Charles walking in. He looked to be surprised.

"You're awake," he said pointing out the obvious. How long was I out for? What did they do to me when I was unconscious? Where am I now?

I stood there awkwardly. I didn’t want to look Charles in the eye. I could feel his eyes search for mine. I felt like a fucking idiot for answering all of those questions he had asked me last night. I knew it was a bad idea.

He walked closer to me, and I wanted to back up but I was already pressed up against the wall. I could see that my knees were still shaking underneath me.

"Don't worry," he told me. He was so close to me that I could feel the warmth of his breath against my skin. I lifted my hand to push him away, but he grabbed it. I punched him in the chest with my free hand.

"Let go of me," I said through my teeth. A smirk grew across my lips.

"Come on," he said pulling my body in front of his. He was pushing me forward, with his hand still on my arm and his other arm was wrapped around my waist.

"No! Let go of me! Stop!" I screamed at him. I dug my feet into the ground. It was the only thing I could do to stop him. My body started to slide further down his and is arm was soon around my neck. I sunk my teeth down into that arm as hard as I could. Charles let out a yelp before letting me go. I tumbled down onto the ground.

I could feel something wet on the bottom of my lip drip down onto my chin. I wiped it away with my fingers. I looked up at Charles to see his arm was bleeding. I didn't know I could bite someone hard enough to draw blood.

Still on the ground, I tried to scurry away from Charles. He grabbed my ankle and pulled me towards him. I kicked him in the shin with my other leg. He grabbed both of my wrists and pulled me up onto my feet. I brought my knee up into his stomach with all of the strength I could find in my body. Charles let an umph escape his lips as his back arched.

"You really want to play that way?" Charles asked me raising an eyebrow. He let go of my wrists. Before I could move he grabbed my shoulders and pushed me back, hard into the mirror.

My arms became shields as the glass rained down on me. I felt sharp stings grow across my face and arms. I looked up at Charles. His arms were crossed under his chest and he was smiling at me. These people were fucking monsters.

He came back over to me. A loud crunching noise filled the room as he broke even more glass with his footsteps. Blood was bubbling up on my arms, and I felt something wet trickle down my face. It tickled as it ran over my nose.

"Happy now? Juliet, it's useless to fight against our family," he told me. He brought me back up onto my feet and he wrapped his arms around me again. I still squirmed in his grip and fought for him to let me go.

I screamed as he pushed me foreword and opened up the door. I let my knees go like jelly, making it harder for him to move me. But he was so much bigger than me. He easily lifted me up, so that my feet were no longer on the ground.

I continued to scream; I don't know what good it would do me. No one could hear me. He walked down the stairs with me in front of him and I tried to grab the wooden railings to stop him. If my hands did wrap around the railing, it didn't stay for long.

Another man, actually a boy a couple years younger than me, was standing at the bottom of the stairs. He had short brown hair and brown eyes, and was wearing a white shirt and jeans.

"Tommy, get your brother to come in, in ten minutes," he ordered him.

Tommy nodded his head and ran outside. Charles dragged me into the kitchen and pushed me down onto a chair.

"Stay here," he ordered me.

I stood up and he pushed my shoulders back down. I watched him walk around to the other side of the table and got up and ran again. I could see the door and the thought of getting out of here filled my mind. Charles caught me and dragged me back into the kitchen. I continued for him to scream to let me go, and dug my nails into his arms. He forcefully pushed me back down into the chair.

"If you try to run again you'll be tied down," he said angrily.

I didn't say a word. I wanted to get out of here, but if I saw the perfect opportunity to escape and I was tied down I would have no chance. Charles words repeated in my head, it's useless to fight against our family. I looked down at my arms. My left arm was covered in little cuts and the blood was beading out of the wounds. My right arm had a few cuts, around my tattoos, but not nearly as many as my left arm. It stung and so did my forehead.

"Now, Juliet," he said sitting down in the chair next to mine. "I know you're wondering why you're here. So I'm going to tell you. For years our family has had this little tradition. When our sons become twenty the father goes out and finds his son a girl. And you, Juliet, are my oldest son's Jimmy."

I could hear my heart beating in my ears. My stomach felt like it was sliding into my throat. I was going to be sick. This was sick. Who goes out to kidnap a girl to give to his son? I know that hundreds of years ago there was arranged marriages, but this wasn't the same thing. Those were like business deals. These people are abusing me.

Tommy walked into the kitchen. His light eyes stared at me and I felt them go over every detail on my body. How many girls does he see? I adverted his eyes and looked down at my knees.

"He's coming," he told Charles. Tommy's eyes were still on me. He went over to the sink and got a towel. He sat across from Charles and handed him the towel. Charles pressed it up against the wound on his arm.

"Who is she?" Tommy asked.

"Juliet Miller. Nineteen and from New York," Charles told him.

"State. She's a fighter too. That's going to be interesting. Jimmy is going to have to set her straight."

I swallowed hard and it was difficult. My throat felt like it was closing in. I heard the door open and someone walk in. It must have been Jimmy. I didn't want to look up because if I looked up this was real. If I looked up, I would have to see the man I have to spend the rest of my life with. But I couldn't take it any longer, I was too curious. I slowly moved my eyes up to meet his.

He was tall and had long dark hair and big brown eyes. There was a long jagged scar that ran from his nose and went across his cheek. He was wearing a black shirt and jeans, and his lips pressed into a smile. With on quick motion, I snapped my head back to look back down onto my knees. I bit on my lip and squeezed my eyes shut tightly to stop the flood of tears that threatened to erupt. I've never been this scared before. My body felt cold and I rub my arms with my sweaty palms.

Charles and Tommy's chairs screeched across the floor. They left the kitchen and Jimmy pulled out the chair beside me. I could hear a door slam shut. They must have gone outside. We are all alone now. My chest managed to tighten even more. I moved my head up, but I didn't look at him.

"Juliet," he said quietly.

I turned to look at him. He sat there nervously and no longer looked so tough. This must be the day they look forward to growing up, like the way little girls dream about their wedding.

"Yes?" I said coldly. Maybe if they didn't like me they'd let me go. They'd never do that. They know that I would go out and tell the police. He brushed a piece of hair out of face and tucked it behind my ear. It made the blood on the side of my face even more noticeable.

"You're beautiful," he said nervously chuckling under his breath.

"Thanks," I mumbled. I stared at the windows above the sink in the kitchen. It was covered in bars, just like the ones in the bedroom.

"You'll get used to it here," Jimmy told me. He must have seen me looking at the window. It was pretty obvious where I would be looking.

"Doubt it," I said to myself, but Jimmy heard me.

"Why do you think that?" he asked me, arching an eyebrow.

"So far it feels like a prison. Those bars remind me of something you'd trap an animal in."

"It's different. But it's home."

"It's not my home."

"It is now."

I moved my eyes up to his and held his gaze. His eyes looked so soft and warm. This house so far seemed like a nightmare. He should be the monster, but he looks so innocent. To imagine him growing up in this house was almost impossible. i started to pick at the skin around my fingers.

He put his hand over mine to stop me. It was rough and callused, but warm. I could feel his hands sweat. It must be from nerves. Not only am I nervous around him, but he's nervous around me too. He moved his other hand up to the side of my face and traced his fingers from the top of my ear down to my chin. I could feel my body continue to shake. His fingers caused a cool chill to run through me.

He leaned in and pressed his lips against mine. I ripped my hand out from underneath and pushed them against his chest trying to push him away. He was much larger than me and my attempts to push him away did no good. He put his hand on the back of my head to keep my lip pressed up against his.

Jimmy wrapped his free arm around my back to pull me closer into his body. Pushing him away from me wasn't going to work, so I let my body go limp and sat like a statue. I waited until he was done.

If the father's find girls for their sons, this must be Jimmy's first kiss. The thought was a little comical to me. I had my first kiss when I was nine; he had his when he was twenty. When he was finished the corners of his lips were curled.

"You're so beautiful," he told me.

I looked down at my knees again. I've never felt this nervous around anyone before, not even Donavan.

He got up off his chair and went over to the sink. He pulled a towel out from the cupboard. He moved my long hair away from my forehead and pressed the towel against my temple. It caused a sharp pain to run through my head.

"Hold that," he told me.

I moved my hand up to my head and he took his away. He went back to the sink and came back with another towel. This one was damp. Jimmy put his hand on the side of my head to hold it in place and began to gently wipe away the blood from my face.

"You look even better without the blood," Jimmy said, he had a faint chuckle behind his breath. He moved my hand and towel to wipe the wound. The water caused it to sting even more.

He pulled out my left arm and wiped it down with the damp cloth. The water washed off the blood, but caused more to bubble to the surface. He wiped it down with the dry towel.

Jimmy never asked what happened to me. He just cleaned off the blood. This must be common in this house. He was good at cleaning up blood. He must have experience.