by Kelsie Rae
Silence.
“Q, can I come in? Please? I brought breakfast.”
More silence.
“It’s bacon and eggs. Nice and fresh.”
When she doesn’t bother to look at me, I curse under my breath and take a step back toward the stairs before a soft squeak from her room makes me pause. Unfolding herself from the bed, she pads over to me while I try to ignore how sexy she looks in my T-shirt and boxers. Her ashy blue hair is a mess as she tucks it behind her ear, but she doesn’t say a word when she reaches me.
“Can I come in?” I ask gently.
Lips pursed, she gives in and waves her arm in front of her like it’s a silent welcome banner that says, come right in.
My annoyance sparks into amusement as I witness her display.
Damn, she’s cute.
Stepping inside, I set the plate of hot food on the nightstand. Her eyes dart over to it, and I can almost see her mouth watering, but she doesn’t reach for it or take a bite.
“You can eat it,” I tell her.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Bullshit. I brought food up to your room last night after we cut your hair, and you didn’t touch it. It’s been at least twenty-four hours, Q. Why won’t you eat it?”
Her teeth dig into her lower lip, but she doesn’t answer me, making my earlier amusement disappear.
“Do you think I drugged it or something?”
With a one-shouldered shrug, she climbs back onto the bed, then grabs the same pillow from last night and tucks it against her chest.
Taking the fork on her plate, I shove a massive bite of eggs into my mouth, then steal a slice of bacon and toss it in there too. She watches me chew but doesn’t move until I swallow and offer her the fork.
She stares at it for a few seconds before finding the courage to take it from me. Hands shaking, she scoops up a small piece of scrambled egg. With her eyes on mine, her lips wrap around the utensil before she chews and swallows.
Then her manners evaporate, and she devours the entire meal, moaning as soon as the salty bacon touches her tongue. My chuckle mingles with her soft groan of appreciation as I sit down in an armchair tucked in the corner of her room.
With a contented sigh, she sets the fork down, then rests against the headboard and looks over at me with those same doe eyes that could bring a man to his knees.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“You’re welcome,” I return before leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees. “Can I ask you something?”
After another minute of studying me, she gives me a jerky nod.
“Did you think I poisoned your food?”
“No.”
“Then why didn’t you eat it?” I push.
“I thought you might’ve drugged it.”
My brows almost reach my hairline. “Drugged it?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Did Sei drug you?” I demand.
With another jerky nod, she drops her gaze to her lap.
“Why would he drug you if you were already kidnapped? What’s the point?” I wonder aloud.
Her dry laugh is haunting as she answers, “To see my face when I woke up in my own blood the first time.”
Nauseated, I drop the subject, positive that if I hear another word, I’ll find a way to get Sei out of prison just so I can gut him the way he deserves. Keeping my expression indifferent, I announce, “The housekeeper dropped off a bag of clothes that should fit you. Get dressed in something comfortable and come downstairs.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re going to teach you how to defend yourself.”
She rolls her eyes, giving me a glimpse of the sassy woman she was before she was kidnapped.
“That won’t be necessary,” she deflects.
“Why not?”
“Because no matter how much you kick, scream, bite, and scratch, they always win. Always. Trust me. I’ve been there.”
My astonishment is palpable as I stare at the broken girl in front of me. The one that accepts her shitty past, practically embracing it to become her future. And it pisses me off.
“Were you always this weak?” I snap.
Her jaw drops. “Excuse me?”
“I want to know.”
“How dare you—”
“No. How dare you,” I spit, my frustration boiling over. “Fuck Sei. Fuck what he did to you. And fuck all those memories that haunt you at night. But the sick bastard doesn’t have to win. That’s still within your power. Even if he held you down and raped you right here on this floor, he couldn’t take your strength and your fight unless you gave it to him. Unless you let him win. That choice is still up to you.”
“Screw you, D. You don’t know what I’ve been through—”
“You’re right. I don’t. And even the little glimpses you’ve given me have gutted me, Q. But the second I try to give you back an ounce of the power he stole from you, you push it away. Like it wouldn’t have made a difference. Like you’ve already given in. Hell, you won’t even look in the mirror, you’re so ashamed.”
“Can you blame me? He used me. Tortured me. Chewed me up, then spit me out.” Her voice cracks as she clutches at the pillow tucked against her chest, desperate to end this conversation. But I refuse to let her off that easily.
“Don’t you hear yourself?” I growl. “He did those things. Sei. Not you. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Bullshit,” she starts, her face red with anger and shame.
“Stop,” I order her. “Stop blaming yourself.”
Her pain is suffocating as she drops her head back to the headboard behind her and cries, “How can I? If what you’re saying is true, then I let it happen. I didn’t fight hard enough.”
“Screw that. You endured something, Q. Something no one should ever have to endure. But I need you to understand that he didn’t just break your body. He broke your mind. Your willpower. Everything. And I can’t sit by and watch that happen. I can’t let your bitterness consume you until there’s nothing left. It’s your choice to fight for your future. To get it back. To not let him win. Despite his best efforts, he doesn’t own you. I just need you to believe that too.”
“And if I can’t?” she challenges.
“Then you’re letting the bastard win.” Storming out of her bedroom, I slam the door behind me then rush down the stairs to Matteo’s gym on the first floor.
But it does nothing to douse the rage licking at my soul.
6
Q
The bed is soft and doesn’t smell like urine. It’s the main piece of evidence I have that I’m not in that dank basement anymore, and I cling to it like my life depends on it. Rolling onto my side, I breathe deep and let the scent of freshly-washed sheets ground me. I’ve been here for a little while now, but the clean smell never gets old.
I haven’t talked to D since breakfast, but that hasn’t stopped his words from playing on a constant loop in my mind. I’m still pissed at him. For the things he said. For the crap he knows nothing about. And for making me question my own decisions and how the hell I’m supposed to move forward.
Maybe he’s right. Maybe I always have been this weak. Maybe I’m not willing to fight for a shitty future when I don’t even know what it would look like with a girl as broken as me.
There’s a quiet knock at the door. My pulse jumps before the scent of the cotton brings me back to the present.
I’m not in Sei’s custody anymore. He can’t hurt me here.
But is that really true? Because I’m still hurting. Bad. I can still feel his touch against my skin. I can still hear his voice and the way it would crack when he was excited. I can still smell his rancid breath laced with cigarette smoke and alcohol.
Even though my body has escaped, my mind is still in his prison.
And I hate him for it.
Another quiet knock distracts me, yanking me back to the present.
“Hey, Blue?” D calls from th
e hallway.
He might not be able to see me from the half-opened door, but he knows I’m in here. Where else would I be? And why the hell did he call me Blue? I just want to lay in bed and zone out in front of a TV. Or at least, that’s what the old me would’ve done.
Now, I’m not sure how I should spend my time when I’m not dreading the seconds that tick by, bringing me closer to another visit from Sei.
He’s gone, I remind myself. He’s in prison. He can’t hurt me anymore.
“Blue?” D tries again. “You in there?”
“Of course, I’m in here. Where else would I go?” I mutter under my breath while ignoring the fact that he has the decency not to snoop into my personal space even though my door is partially open.
“Q?” he calls.
Holding on to the familiarity of his voice, I force myself to stand, then pad over to the door.
“Hey,” he mutters when I come into view.
I lean my head against the doorjamb and wait for him to continue.
What the hell do you want, asshole?
“You hungry?”
My stomach grumbles at the mention of food, causing D’s mouth to quirk up in amusement. “I take that as a yes. There’s lasagna in the oven. It’ll be ready any minute.”
“You cooked?” The question slips out of me before I can stop it.
Keep your mouth shut, Q! a tiny voice inside of me yells.
But for some reason, Diece seems to make the one thing I learned when in captivity surprisingly difficult. Actually, he makes a lot of things difficult. Like forcing me to acknowledge my pain so that one day I can try to heal from it instead of letting myself drown in it.
And I’m tired of fighting to keep my head above water.
“Nah,” he returns before running his fingers through his dark, wavy hair, completely oblivious to my inner dialogue. “The housekeeper has a bunch of frozen food prepared in the freezer. I just have to put it in the oven.”
“Oh.”
“You should come downstairs and eat.”
Look at that. Another command.
On your knees and open your mouth. You bite me, I cut out your tongue.
I dig my teeth into the inside of my cheek until the tang of blood seeps onto my taste buds. With a slow, deliberate blink, I obey Diece’s command and step into the hallway with my attention glued to the carpet. His big, burly body stops me in my tracks.
“Stop.”
I freeze.
“I’m not your prison guard, Q.”
Sure, you’re not, I think to myself, but I don’t say a word.
“Look at me.”
I drag my gaze from the floor and meet his intense stare. He has handsome eyes. They’re framed with dark lashes, but the color is something else. Like melted chocolate with a few swirls of caramel. But it’s the warmth that really does me in.
“I don’t own you,” he growls. “You could walk out that door right now if you wanted, and I wouldn’t stop you.”
The warmth dissipates as I’m reminded, yet again, where I land on the damn totem pole.
At the very bottom.
My eyes burn with hatred, but I bite my tongue to keep from arguing with him. Still, the bastard can read me like a book. “I’m serious, Q. You’re here because you saved our asses during Burlone’s tournament. I’ve already told you this. We’re trying to protect you. But if you’re unhappy and think you’d have more luck at surviving on your own, then I won’t make you stay. Understand?”
With my lips pulled into a thin line, I don’t bother to reply but wait for his next request. Because they always want more from me.
His Adam’s apple bobs up and down before another growl of frustration slips out of him. “I’m not the enemy, Q.”
“Sure, you’re not,” I seethe, losing the battle against my own self-control.
Jaw clenching and nostrils flaring, he takes a deep breath and searches for an ounce of patience. “Do you want to talk about it? Is that what you want? Do you want me to leave you alone? Do you want me to drop you off somewhere? Deliver your food to your room? What. Do. You. Want?” His breath fans across my face as I find myself standing chest to chest with the bear in front of me.
“You wanna know what I want?” I spit.
“Yeah. I do.”
“Fine. I want to think for myself. I want to not be broken. I want to know what it’s like to have someone touch me without feeling like spiders are crawling along my skin. I want to be the girl I was before I was kidnapped. I want to be strong. I want to be fearless. And I want to disappear because I know I’ll never get any of those things back. Sei took them from me. All of it. And now, I’m just a shell of a human being, yet you’re asking me to be more than that.”
“I’m asking you to face your fears,” he counters.
“And if I can’t do that?”
“Then you can stay in your room and let what’s left of your life pass you by.”
“Fine,” I spit. “If you don’t own me, then that’s exactly what you’re going to let me do.”
“Fine.” He stares me down, waiting for my next move, and even though it kills me inside, I step back and reach for the door so I can slam it in his face. My grip tightens against the heavy wood as my own self-loathing threatens to consume me. Because I can’t even slam a freaking door without drowning in my past.
A high-pitched scream claws its way up my throat before I slam the door in the opposite direction. Over and over again. The hinges groan in protest at the odd angle as the handle leaves a small scar in the drywall. Then I slide onto my butt and cry.
I’m so freaking broken.
“Q—”
“Just leave me alone,” I beg with my head in my hands. I can feel him watching me. “Go!”
The floor creaks as he walks away.
And all I’m left with is guilt.
He doesn’t deserve to be treated like shit. But he doesn’t get it. He doesn’t understand.
Or maybe he refuses to let me self-destruct the way I desperately want to.
A few minutes later, another soft knock echoes throughout the room. The hallway is empty except for a square of lasagna resting on a plate. It smells delicious, but it seems I’ve lost my appetite.
7
Q
I spend the next day in my room, unsure if I’m really allowed to explore the premises or if it’s a trap so Diece can have an excuse to punish me. A soft knock greets me in the evening, but when I dig up the courage to approach the hallway, only a plate of pasta can be found. Despite the flavorful marinara, it turns to sawdust as soon as it touches my tongue while my conversations with Diece play on a constant loop in my mind.
I really am weak. I’m letting Sei win. But how does he expect me to just…let my past go? Especially after everything I’ve been through. I can’t do that. But I also can’t drown in this hate anymore. It’s killing me.
And so are the nightmares.
“Please. Please, Sei. Don’t—”
“Come on, my pretty Peach. You love this game.”
“I-I don’t,” I cry, squirming away from him. “I don’t love it—”
“Then we’ll play it until you do.”
I wake up in a cold sweat, tangled in my sheets, as another sob escapes me.
Just a dream, Q. It’s just a dream, I remind myself, but it doesn’t make the feel of his knife scraping against my inner thighs go away.
Angrily, I wipe away the tears that stain my cheeks before my senses prickle with awareness. With my breath caught in my lungs, I scan the dark room and find a shadowed figure resting against the wall with a gun in his hand. My terror spikes before the moonlight from the window kisses his handsome features.
It’s Diece.
“W-what are you doing here?” My voice is rusty from sleep. Or maybe it’s from my screams. Regardless, I watch him carefully and wait for his response. He looks tired. Worn down. Like he hasn’t slept in weeks.
His sigh is filled with a sadness that m
akes my chest ache. But there isn’t resentment or pity that weaves its way into his resignation. Just…sadness.
For me.
For what I’ve been through.
For the nightmares that won’t go away.
“Get some sleep, Q,” he tells me before resting his head against the wall behind him. “I won’t let the monsters get you.”
Digging my teeth into my lower lip, I continue to study him for a few more seconds. If he wanted to kill me, he would’ve already done it. I roll onto my side and give him my back, squeezing the pillow against my chest as tight as I can. Then I close my eyes and pray for sleep.
And for some reason, it comes easier with the knowledge that I’m not alone.
Though I refuse to acknowledge why.
The next morning, my room is missing a certain protector, and I start to question whether or not I imagined his presence last night. I did sleep better, though. Not perfect. But…still. Sei remained present to haunt my dreams, but I couldn’t feel his touch this time, so I guess that’s progress.
It’s late. Later than normal, anyway. D hasn’t knocked on my door yet. Or maybe I slept through it? With my arms folded across my chest, I peek through my open doorway and scan the hall. It’s empty. No plate of bacon and eggs. No glass of juice. Nothing. Curious, I rock back on my heels before finding the courage to explore my new prison more fully. My anxiety heightens as my bare feet pad against the dark wood floor. Creeping down the stairs, I wait for someone to yell at me or grab me and shove me back to my room. But no one does.
What if…what if something happened to D? What if that’s why he didn’t bring me breakfast? What if he’s hurt? What if Sei found me and killed him? The questions run rampant on my frazzled nerves, begging me to hide away in my room, but I restrain myself.
I need to find Diece.
Closing my eyes, I focus on the sounds around me, but the place is practically silent. My ears perk when I recognize an almost familiar song filtering from down the hall. It’s so quiet, I’m surprised I can hear it, but I tiptoe toward it in hopes of finding D. The door is cracked open a few inches, and I peek through it.