by Lucy Rinaldi
“Please don’t do this” I’m trying not to crack, but my voice goes against me, and tears sting my eyes.
“What is it? Answer me” His voice more urgent, and back to his Californian accent. Jesus, he’s like two different men! I can’t answer him, I just can’t. “Wait here,” He ordered. I watched him walk back into the apartment and whisper something to Marie. She gave him a sweet smile and kissed his cheek, while waving at me and smiling. They’re always smiling, the whole family, it’s annoying! Because I know to most of them, its all just a show, hiding who they really are from the public eye. I wave back and force a smile. Elijah walked back to me grabbing my forearm forcefully, dragging me behind him, and I have to run to keep up with him. He doesn’t stop to say goodbye to anyone else. No one else matters to him, but his baby sister. He dragged me out into the elevator and pushed the button to take us to the ground floor. He said nothing; he didn’t even look at me. And he’s so angry, I can feel it radiate from him. I just stare at the floor, and I don’t know if it’s the champagne or the after effects of what happened to me earlier today, but I feel it in my throat and I can’t hold it in any longer, the water in my mouth filling me. I lean over and vomit right there and it just keeps coming. “Shit, Sadie” He hissed. He grabbed my hair at the nape of my neck in a makeshift ponytail, but it’s too late, I’ve vomited spectacularly in my own hair and all over my shoes. I clutch my stomach, Jesus will this ever stop? “It’s okay, baby,” I know he’s trying to soothe me but I don’t want to hear it. Finally the vomiting subsides and the doors of the elevator open. I stand up straight and quickly pick my left leg up grabbing onto Elijah’s arm, holding myself up. I grab my shoe and take it off, throwing it to the ground; I do the same with the right and just leaving them there. I want to run and keep running because it’s the only way I can forget, but he grabs my arm, bending down, he lifts me into his arms, I just want to cry. I can feel it creeping up on me, the familiar feeling of total despair inside me. I wrap my arms around his neck and rest my head on his shoulder, he walks out of the elevator and out of the building carrying me with such ease. He kisses my hair softly. “You have some explaining to do when we get home” He says coolly. I want to say something but words fail me. He deposits me in the passenger seat of his car, and walks around to the driver side of his Ferrari 458 Italia; I love this car, a fast car for a fast man. We sat in silence the whole way home, my mind a total blank and I feel so empty inside.
~ ~ ~
Chapter Two.
“So, explain” He points at my neck as we stand in the kitchen of my house, Vodka glass in hand as he leans against the closed door trapping me inside, and he looks so angry. He keeps his eyes on me, never moving, making me nervous as I stand opposite him looking at the floor. I can smell the vomit in my hair and it turns my stomach. I just want to take a bath and go to bed, but I know he’s not going to let me move until I say something. “I’ve got all night, Sadie”
“Elijah... I...” I can’t get the words out, I know if I tell him everything will change and I don’t want it to. It can’t, I need him; I need us the way we are, the way we’ve always been the good and the bad, and boy is there a lot of bad! This man is my tormentor, yet he’s made sure I need him completely, and boy do I need him. I don’t know who I am without him. The girl I once was is now completely lost. The fun girl, the girl who loved to party, the girl who loved nothing more than drinking, dancing and being with her friends. The girl who loved punishment and sex, lots of sex, is no more. I am totally lost inside and without him who will I be?
His eyes are still on me, he raises his eyebrow in a fucking-tell-me-now-or-else kind of way, and it unnerves me even more. “It’s nothing, Elijah, it’s just a bruise from the necklace, it pitched my skin and I rubbed it, but it made it worse” I look up and smile at him, he eyes me warily then leans over and puts his Vodka glass on the kitchen counter.
“And you couldn’t just tell me that when I asked the first time?”
Shit!
He’s right, why did I make such a fuss like an idiot. “I’m sorry,” I look at the floor because I don’t know what else to do. He doesn’t say anything else he just looks at me. God, please say something, anything! I implore him, but he says nothing. He walks over to me in that way and my stomach lunches. He holds out his hand to me and nervously, I take it because no matter how much I might still love this man, he scares me to death. He opens the door and walks me through the long hallway and up the stairs to our bedroom. I say our bedroom, this is my house, he doesn’t technically live with me, well, not permanently. He has his own apartment, because he said he would end up killing me if he didn’t have his own space. He stays over with me once or twice a week, but he makes sure to check on me every single day. That and he took over my house, adding his own torture room in my basement! A place he said he needed to make sure he kept me in check, a place he drags me to when I’ve done something he deems bad. Which in my experience with Elijah could simply mean wearing the wrong shoes! Releasing my hand, he turns on the bedside lights, he takes my hand once more and leads me to the bathroom. Thankfully the lights in our bathroom are always dull.
“You need a bath young lady” He motions me to take a seat on the chair next to the vanity; I sit and bow my head. I’m so scared not only of him, but what’s going to happen. I do love this man, in my own way I still do, but his temper knows no bounds even with me. He leans over the bath and turns on the faucet, the hot water steaming the bathroom. He adds bubble bath. Why, I don’t know because I always use bath oils. I like the way it makes my skin feel, but I’m grateful that my body will be covered out of sight by the bubbles. “Stand up” He says softly, holding his hand out to me, I take it and stand as best I can without him seeing what I want to hide. He gently pulls me toward him kissing me softly on the lips, as he strokes my face with the back of his hand, my eyes close because for some reason I can’t bear his touch. He bends and kisses me again. His hands slide down my shoulders, down my arms and under them, his mouth still on mine, his tongue invading my mouth and I feel so sick I want to vomit again. How can he kiss me like this when I taste like vomit? He slides his hand around my neck, finding the zipper and pulling it down. He pushes my dress over my shoulder and it falls to the ground, pooling around my feet. He pulls out of our kiss and stands back to admire the view, but I’m so ashamed my hands travel over my body in defense, trying to hide from him. My eyes close as tears fall down my face against my will. “Look at me” His voice is almost a whisper. I keep my head down I can’t look at him. “Look at me, dammit!” His tone startles me and I jump and a sob escapes my throat. “Don’t cry” I look at him looking at me not able to read his expression. He lifts my head to meet his eyes. “Tell me, Sadie. Please” He kisses my forehead. I shake my head and screw my eyes shut again. I hear him sigh as he unclasps my bra, sliding it slowly down my arms, and just like my dress it drops to the floor. I wrap my arms protectively around my stomach trying hard to hide the bruises; he leans over the bath and turns off the water, the bubbles tower high like a tall mound of snow. He turns and walks over to the door, opening it, eying me the whole time with what again looks like concern. How he doesn’t see the bruises I don’t know, or maybe he does, but he doesn’t say anything. He probably thinks he gave them to me, it wouldn’t be the first time. “Take off your panties and get in the bath. I won’t be a moment” Jesus, I can’t breathe how the fuck is he not going to notice these bruises. Quick as I can, I slide my panties down my legs and climb into the bath. The waters hot and burns in all the wrong places, it burns so deep between my legs I gasp, but soon it’s soothing. I tell myself, I deserve this pain. I close my eyes and try to relax bringing my knees up against my chest and folding my arms around them protectively. I didn’t hear him walk back into the room, nor did I hear him close the door, I guess because I’m so lost in thought and I’m so scared I don’t know what to do with myself. I sense him behind me as he brings the wooden chair from next to the vanity, and se
ts it down at the head of the bath where my head is, he makes me jump and my head pound again. “Ssshh. You’re so jumpy” His voice is low and calm which instantly makes me think something bad is going to happen, and for the moment I seem to lose all sense of feeling, I’m totally numb inside and out, except for the burn deep in my stomach, the burn of fear. Elijah takes a class from the sink next to him and dips it into the hot bath water; hmm he’s going to wash my hair? That’s never happened before. Gently he pours water over my head soaking my hair. I smell the sweet scent of flowers from my shampoo as he lathers it into my hair, massaging my scalp and down the length of my hair, and it feels heavenly. “Head back” He whispers. I do as I’m told and he pours more water over my head washing away the shampoo, tears prick my eyes... Again!
Dammit!
I’m just one big mess and all I want is for him to hold me and make it all better, but I know deep down that will never happen. “Hey, hey, what’s with the tears?” He gets off the chair and kneels down next to me on his heels, his hand finding my face, and with two fingers under my chin he lifts my head to look at him, and the tears just stream down my face. “Tell me what’s wrong” He seems discontented as he kisses the tears on my cheeks. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me to him, so I have to shift in the bath and let go of my legs. I wrap my arms around his waist, my cheek against the shirt that covers his chest. “I’m here baby, don’t cry” But him saying that only makes me cry harder. Because I know he’s gong to find out what happened and I know he’ll punish me into next year for it! Because in his mind it will be what I deserve for being a dirty whore!
After a few moments he stands and puts one hand under my knees, the other around my back and lifts me from the bath, not caring a button for the fact his clothes are now soaking. He leans to the side still holding me and grabs a towel and carries me into the bedroom. He stands me on my feet and wraps the towel round me, freeing my hair from the back. I pull the towel tightly around me and he leaves me standing there for only seconds, as he walks to the bathroom once more. He returns with another towel for my hair and wraps it round my head and I’m lost in wonder, looking at him taking care of me. I find it so very strange that he’s being so tender with me. Memories stir in my mind of times when he’s not so tender, times when he’s hurt me so badly that I’ve ended up in hospital with broken bones, and worse! I shudder and push them to the back of my mind. I smile as he starts to dry my body, my shoulders, my back, and then down my arms until he reaches my stomach. He stops and my stomach tightens, my whole body pricks with both heat and cold and I’m so scared. “What the fuck is this?” His eyes dart to mine and his gaze locks on me, my mouths dry, I can’t speak. I swallow hard as he looks down at my body. Tracing his fingers over the bruises on my belly, then he stops again and looks up at me, his face ashen. He pulls me over to the bed into the light of the lamps that sit beside either side of our bed. “Lay down” His order was gentle but at the same time firm. I do as I’m told, slowly in a haze like state because I’m so scared that he’s going to touch me, or worse. I can’t open my eyes. “Please don’t touch me. Please don’t touch me” I say over and over in my head. I feel his hand on my legs pushing them apart and I hear his gasp. “Oh my god. What the fuck!?” His eyes are on me. “Who the fuck did this? Tell me,” I shake my head and try so hard to pull away from him. I want to run, run and hide, but he won’t let me go.
“Please Elijah,” I sob, my hands trying in vain to cover my body. He pulls me into his arms and holds me so tightly.
“Tell me” His voice a whisper, shroud in angst, but I can’t speak, I have no words I’m just a mass of pain and emptiness. “Who, Sadie? Who did this to you? Sadie, speak to me... For fuck sakes, who fucking did this?! What did they do to you?” He’s suddenly so angry that the only thing I feel is fear. I can’t move I have to force the only thing I can out of my mouth.
“He hurt me”
“Who, baby? Who hurt you?” He pulls me out of his grasp and holds me at arm’s length, his eyes begging for an answer but nothing will come out of my mouth. I’m so ashamed, it’s killing me, my insides are all knotted together and the sobs just keep coming. My eyes meet his gaze and suddenly his face is pale, sickly pale “You were raped?” I slowly not really wanting to but know I have to nod my head. Elijah’s face falls with disbelief. Oh god! He doesn’t believe me, and that’s it, I can’t stop it, I start to sob uncontrollably. He pulls me into his arms again and holds me tightly, kissing my hair, my face, my hands, everywhere, it’s as if he’s trying to heal me. I feel his tender kisses on my shoulder; I wrap my arms around his waist and hang on for dear life, sobbing against him, as he holds me. I know this isn’t going to end well, but right now I just need him to hold me.
I don’t know how long we sat like that, but after my tears stopped, because in all honesty, I don’t have any left, he lets go of me and walks over to the bedside cabinet that holds my pajamas, he grabs my night shirt and he gently helps me dress. “Lay down, you need to sleep” I look at him, startled, I don’t want to be alone not tonight.
“Please don’t leave me here alone. Please. Please,” I beg him.
“I’m not going anywhere, I promise” I watch anxiously as he changes into pajama bottoms and climbs into bed next to me, pulling me onto his chest, holding me tightly, soothing me telling me everything will be okay, and my eyes closed as I couldn’t fight this fatigue any longer.
~ ~ ~
Chapter Three.
I wake with a start bolting upright in my bed, my right hand feeling across the bed in the darkness for Elijah, but he’s not here. Where could he be? He promised he wouldn’t leave me here alone. My eyes scan the room in a panic in case he’s here somewhere when really I know he’s not. Jumping out of bed, I run to the bathroom, hoping he’s there. Opening the door, I poke my head through, but he’s not there either, and my hearts beating so fast, it’s the only thing I can hear in the darkened silence. I feel scared and apprehensive, it’s not like me, nothing scares me, not for long at least. Normally I deal with the bad stuff and move on from it, but then I’ve never been raped by my boyfriend’s younger brother before, it’s a whole new feeling!
I grab my robe and wrap it around me tying it tightly, and then wrapping my arms around myself. I walk out of my bedroom and down the few stairs to our living room. He’s nowhere to be found, I look at the clock, a small wooden travel clock that we brought in England on our visit there last year, it sits perfectly in the middle of the mantel around the open fire. It’s 5.35am where could he be? I climb onto the couch that sits opposite the open fire, a large L shaped black leather, covered in cushions of black and white. I lean my back against the arm rest and pull my knees up against my chest, wrapping my arms around them protectively, my chin resting on my knees.
I don’t know how long I sat there in the darkness. Minuets? Hours? I rocked back and forth without realizing I was doing it, trying to soothe myself somehow. But vile memories of the day before flash in and out of my mind, his big body on top of me, his mouth all over me, and subconsciously I’m rubbing my left wrist with my right hand, twisting it, making it burn. I look down at myself.
Shit!
I’ve made my arm blood red. I’m suddenly startled out of my trance like state at the sound of the front door opening and closing. I'm frozen to the spot “He can’t get you here, Sadie” the voice in my head ever the optimist. “Of course he can get me here you stupid cow!” I snap at myself. I close my eyes tightly, frightened of I just don’t know, everything it seems. “Hey, what are you doing out of bed?” I slowly open my eyes, Elijah’s standing facing me, he’s wearing his sweats and T-shirt, and his iPod is clipped to his shirt. Oh, he’s been running? I let out a huge breath like sigh as he sits on the couch facing me, his hip next to my knees, placing his left hand on my shoulder, then with his right index finger lifts my chin, and his eyes scan mine it’s like he’s looking right through me.
“I woke up and you were gone” I shrug. “I
couldn’t sleep without you next to me” His eyes soften as his lips throw me a shy smile.
“Come here” He grabbed my hand and gently pulled me onto his lap, snaking his arms round my waist. I fold mine around his neck and I should feel safe here, it’s where I should belong in his arms, nothing should hurt me here, yet he does so often and I have never been safe with him. “I couldn’t sleep, I’m wound up to the point of snapping. I figured I’d go for a run while you were sleeping, try to let off some steam” He gently runs his hand up and down my leg.
“Did it help?” I ask innocently, my forehead resting against his.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He lifts as he asks this question so that he’s looking into my eyes.
“I didn’t know how” I shrug again. “I was scared, I didn’t know how you’d react, if you’d be mad or do something stupid. I didn’t want to hurt you... It’s the last thing I’d ever want to do” He turns his head to look at me making me lift mine from his shoulder; he looks at me with angry eyes, shit! What did I do now? His hand travels up my back, grabbing the back of my neck, he pulls my head down until my foreheads against his once more. I close my eyes because I have a horrible feeling something bad is about to happen, and I’m never wrong not where he’s concerned!
“You lied to me” He whispers against my lips. My eyes shoot wide open; I lift my head even though his hand is still on the back of my neck. I look him in the eye trying to guess his mood.
“What do you mean? I haven’t lied to you, Elijah,” I feel sick, here it comes!
“You know exactly what I mean. You fucked him and now you feel guilty” I knew he’d blame me, that he’d say I cheated. I know this will be bad from the way his accent changed, it’s now Irish and angry, this is going to be brutal I just know it.