Little Devils

Sam squinted at the bright light that shone through the window. She sat up and stretched.

That was the longest sleep she'd had all week. It must have been the crying that put her to sleep.

She buried her face in her palm and groaned in embarrassment at the memory of getting discovered by Desmond. She thought to herself: he must think I am silly, crying over a damn movie.

She must have slept off on the couch. Wait a second! She didn't remember coming upstairs. She must have been too sleepy to have remembered.

Sam got out of bed, yawning. Her jaw still ached where Desmond had held her. Such a bully.

When have men started to force women to have dinner with them? When you are poor, you need to deal with so much bullshit.

She had been assaulted for not having dinner with him. Her life was hopeless. From one monster to another.

At that point, she felt she was safer with Fred and Diane. All they do is beat her and make her work.

She remembered how helpless she felt when her spine collided with the closet. She felt intangible against his body. He could easily squash her with one fist. She feared for her life. She had better watch herself around him.

Sam went into the bathroom to brush her teeth and bathe. while she was in the shower. She heard movements in the room.

Could it be her maid? It was very unlike her to enter the room without waiting to be invited in. Maybe she got tired of knocking and let herself in.

As she wrapped a towel around herself, she thought she heard two voices. Did she bring another maid in? As Sam got closer to the door, the voices became clearer.

"You did it last time!"

"No, I didn't! You did!"

Sam's heart leaped. Was she dreaming?

She hurried into the bedroom, and just like she'd pictured in her mind, Maggie and Ann were having a tug of war with her sheet. Sam felt so relieved and happy.

"Who did it last time?" Sam giggled.

The two turned and squealed, then charged up at her. Before Sam knew it, she was tumbling on the floor with them.

When they finally got control over their laughter and got to their feet, Sam asked them,

"I thought you were fired?"

"Baron called us back," Ann said excitedly.

"I missed you so much," Maggie cooed, hugging her tightly.

"I thought hugging wasn't so cool," Sam remarked.

"I couldn't help myself."

"Why are there marks on your face?" Ann asked, looking at Sam's face closely.

"I fell." Sam lied.

"These look like finger marks," Ann said suspiciously.

"They are finger-marks," Maggie confirmed after looking closely. "Who did this to you?"

"Shhhhh..."

"We must report this to the master." Ann insisted.

"No, no! You don't have to."

"Wait. Did the master hurt you himself?" Maggie asked.

"Yes. No!"

"I pick yes," Maggie deadpanned.

"Why is he hurting you? He loves you so much," Ann said heartbreakingly.

"Such a bully," Maggie sneered.

"We were playing," she blurted out to stop their outrage.

The maids froze. Ann's cheeks reddened. Sam realized she had committed a blunder.

"No, it's not that!" She hurriedly corrected.

"You don't have to feel embarrassed. Many men like it rough," Maggie said kindly.

Sam blushed profusely. She had to accept that as she had nothing to defend herself. It was better than letting them know the truth.

After she got dressed, they sat on the bed to catch up till noon, while Sam had to prepare lunch. She wanted to thank Desmond. Who knew that her ungratefulness could infuriate him?

It felt good to walk to the dining room flanked by her personal maids again.

While Sam took her seat, the two moved to the side like the other maids.

The food was already on the table in flasks, but the maids hadn't started serving as Desmond was yet to come in.

He came in shortly with Baron in tow. Was Baron merely a butler or also a bodyguard?

Desmond took his usual seat opposite hers.

"How is your day going, Mis- Desmond?"

He cocked his brow. He only told her to call him Desmond. A maid came and began to serve. Desmond totally ignored Sam's greeting.

She began to wonder if he hated being greeted. He never responds.

When the maid finished, he picked up his cutlery and began to eat.

"Thanks for bringing my maids back," she said.

He paused for five seconds, then resumed eating without even looking at her.

Did her words irritate him? She decided she would keep quiet and eat.

When she reached for a plate, a hand got to it first. She looked up to see Maggie smiling down at her. She personally saw to it that Sam's plate had the right diet.

Sam stared at the plate with a bitter face after Maggie moved aside. Was Maggie trying to kill her? She should know how much she hated eating those raw leaves and fruits. She was a human being, not a rabbit.

When she looked at Desmond's plate, she saw it was similar to hers. She consoled herself with that and began to eat.

"This isn't fun," she mumbled to herself as she ate.

"Pa wants to see us at the mansion today. His grandchildren are coming for the weekend, so he'll need extra hands."

Sam's heart skipped a beat. Would she have to experience such a nightmare yet again?

As far as she knew, grandchildren meant Desmond, Rhonda, and Claire. Those were fully grown grandchildren, two of whom were older than she.

Desmond almost laughed at how she paled and gaped. This weekend was going to be interesting.

"Maids!" He called.

Maggie and Ann hurried forward.

"Go prepare her things for two days."

They bowed and went out.

Sam was sickened with worry. She couldn't swallow anything. Why did Desmond always tell her to follow him to see his grandfather without prior notice? He was going to give her a heart attack one of these days.

* * * *

About half an hour later, they had hit the road. Sam wore long jeans and a knitted sweatshirt. The weather has been getting colder lately.

They drove to the mansion in silence. Cars were parked in the yard the other day. This time there were no cars. Could they have been hiding in some underground garage, or did they not have cars? The second option was very unlikely.

The two guards opened the front doors. They stepped out of the car and walked to the front door, leaving the luggage to the guards.

Entering the luxurious parlor, they saw the old man on his favorite couch reading a newspaper. He was always old-fashioned.

"Good afternoon, Pa," Desmond greeted.

The man lowered his newspaper and looked at them, then raised it back up and continued reading.

She'd thought Desmond got his lousy attitude from his mother, but now she realized he might have gotten it from this old man. Who else would ignore the greetings of the guests whom he invited?

Desmond pulled Sam along by the hand upstairs. When they got to their designated room, the maids were still arranging their clothes in the closet.

"I'll take it from here," Sam told them.

The maids left as she took over, while Desmond went into the bathroom.

The maids must have packed more than necessary because it was taking a while to finish unpacking.

She heard the sound of the bathroom door and hastened up as Desmond stepped out. She was suddenly hit by the sweet fragrance of soap before she felt Desmond's body bump her slightly from behind.

He stretched his arms over her, looking for a shirt. Sam's ears grew warm. She had to leave before she would die of embarrassment, but as she tried to move to the side, two strong hands held her shoulders and turned her around.

Sam was suddenly facing Desmond's naked and wet chest. She swallowed uneasily.

'Does this man have any shame?' She asked herself.

"Choose a shirt for me, Samantha," he said and turned her back to the closet.

Sam hesitated. Why couldn't he just take the shirt he wanted? She was very aware of his palms on her shoulder. Those hands were beginning a slow descent down her arms. She felt Desmond's chin rest on top of her head. It made her panic.

In her panic, she pulled a random shirt, spun around, and pushed it against his chest in an attempt to put some distance between them.

Desmond grinned at her flustered face. Her face was as red as a tomato bulb and her eyes stared at him like a doe caught in a headlight.

He held the shirt she was holding to his chest. She realized her palms were on his chest and retracted them as if they'd been in a fire.

Desmond made room for her to pass. She hurried into the bathroom and bolted the door. It wouldn't be beyond that pervert to enter while she was bathing.

Desmond smirked at how Sam escaped. Her innocence interested him to no end. He enjoyed making her blush with embarrassment at every opportunity he got.

He put back the shirt she had chosen for him and picked another one.

Sam heard the bedroom door open and close before she came out. Desmond was not in the bedroom anymore. To be safe, she still took her clothes into the bathroom to dress.

Sam stepped out of the bedroom a few minutes later wearing a simple knee-length dress and made her way to the parlor, hoping Desmond would be there.

Luckily, he was. He was on his phone. Sam came and sat beside him. Eric was still working on his paper.

"Doesn't he get tired of sitting up and reading for so long?"

"Ask him if you care about him so much," Desmond deadpanned.

"Don't you get tired of sitting up and reading for so long?"

No, she did not! Desmond had not expected her to follow his words. He gave her a side glance. She shrugged cluelessly at why he was looking at her like that. He had told her to ask him.

Desmond looked up to see how Eric was going to respond. The old man was looking at them over the paper. Just when Desmond thought he was going back to reading the paper, he set it aside. and looked at Sam.

"As a matter of fact, I am tired. How was your drive all the way here, honey?"

Even Sam hadn't expected that.

"It was a pleasant one. How is your health?"

"Great. I'm sorry for having to whisk you out of your honeymoon."

Did he say honeymoon? Far from it.

"It's fine. It's nice here."

"Well, if that isn't a lie, it will be very soon."

He picked up the paper and began to read it again. Sam looked confused. What did he mean by that?

They heard a car stop outside.

"Here they come," the old man mumbly grumbled, still reading.

A few seconds later, the front doors burst open. Sam's first thought was that a gang of robbers were upon them, but when she turned around to look, she only saw two children running in. How could such small creatures create such a ruckus?

The kids charged straight at Eric and threw themselves at him. Eric had discarded his papers and was now struggling to hold the kids so they wouldn't fall. Despite that, he was laughing.

Sam felt her heart squeeze with longing. She wished she had a grandfather or father who loved her so much.

"You must think they are cute," Desmond said.

He had set his phone aside and was watching his grandfather with the kids.

"Aren't they, though?" Sam asked.

"Don't be fooled by their cute little faces. They are actually little devils."

She furrowed her brows at him. Why would he call children devils?

She suddenly noticed Claire beside her. The girl smiled at them.

"Good luck," she whispered and hurried out the door.