Nearly Broken

by Devon Ashley

  “Sure, I will. Because in just three days, you’ll be begging me to fuck you.”

  It was like I was slapped. His words caused my head to jerk and my eyes to bulge like the atmosphere had sucked all the oxygen out of the room. “You’re as delusional as Veronica is lifeless.”

  “You’ll see,” he sang with twisted amusement, sliding his hand up my leg, squeezing just above the knee. My leg jerked and I smacked his hand away. His hand recovered and slapped my face so fast I didn’t have a chance in hell to close my eyes or turn away in time. I gasped, my hands going to protect my face, my skin already burning like a mother. “That’s your warning,” I heard him say firmly. “I’ve let you run your mouth a few times, but don’t think for one second you can hit me in any way. I will knock you unconscious for it next time.”

  I could feel him moving away, but I was frozen with fear, my head pointing in the opposite direction, my jaw still quivering with aftershocks. He instructed Veronica to turn in, and what little light we had from her lamp went away, suffocating the room with darkness once more. It took awhile for me to come out of dormancy, still caressing my now swollen cheek. For the first time since he found me, I was stunned into silence, deathly afraid to utter even the slightest of peeps.

  But that fear couldn’t stop the tears. As I spread out on the carpet, I tried for hours to imagine that Nick was lying behind me in the dark, that there was no question about whether or not he survived that night, because he was with me, right here, right now.

  If only I could fool my mind as well as those brainwashers had.

  That was the longest night of my life. My neck, shoulders and back were killing me from leaning against the wall. I had refused to make myself vulnerable by sleeping, banging my head each time my eyes tried to close. I didn’t want to sleep, the memories of him cutting me while I was drugged and unable to fight still fresh on my mind. It was like that nightmare people had – asleep but still awake on the operating table, feeling each sear as the surgeon cuts into them. Only this was worse, because it really happened to me, over and over again.

  My mind wouldn’t shut off, the darkness the perfect backdrop for all the thoughts and memories it relentlessly flipped through, trying to find the one that would hurt me the most, punishing me for not heeding its warning, for getting myself taken once more. For losing the person most precious to me now.

  Nick. It killed me that I didn’t know his fate. But I believed he survived. I had to. How long did he lay there on the cold floor before someone found him? How long before his mother was contacted?

  Oh, my God.

  Sam.

  Nick was all she had left. And for days now, while I slept, she may have been mourning the loss of her family, her baby boy. I cried my eyes out for her, but the tears weren’t even comparable to the number I shed for my mom and dad and Thea. I was just getting to know them again, hardly scratching the surface. And they had just gotten me back, given just a tease of my presence before I was cruelly ripped from their grasp once more.

  How did a person survive that horror twice? I could see my mother right now, sitting on my bed, holding one of my picture frames to her chest, worrying and wondering where I was, if it was them that came back for me, or if it was a whole new threat this time. My father was probably drinking downstairs, thinking that if he had only forced me home and kept me grounded, I may not have been taken a second time. But if that lunatic was willing to shoot Nick like it was nothing, he wouldn’t have hesitated to grab me no matter where I was or who I was with. More than one of my loved ones could be dead right now. And Thea, who already suffered so long thinking it was her fault that I was taken. She saw me less than twenty-four hours before it happened again. Always the last one to see me…

  How I wished I’d spent more time watching those family videos my dad had given me. Because now I feared those images would begin to wilt away, along with my ability to keep their faces from blurring and distorting with time in my mind.

  I banged my head until the pain was enough to halt my freaking memory bank from finding new slides for the damn projector. I wished I had never been found. If I could go back in time and make sure I never stopped at Breenie’s Diner in Myrtle Creek, I would. Then Paul would’ve never seen that flyer in Seattle, Thea never would’ve come to check me out, Nick would’ve never made me fall in love with him all over again, and my parents would’ve continued going on with life without me, albeit a little sad. Then the police would’ve never put my name on that accusation, he never would have found me, I’d still be free and Nick would most definitely be alive. And as much as I loved my family, as much as I needed Nick, I’d give it all up in a heartbeat to just go back in time and alter my course. I’d sacrifice everything that made me feel whole again, just to spare them the pain they were going through right this very moment.

  I don’t know where my body found the fluid, but long after my chest stopped heaving and my eyes became raw and irritated, the tears had dripped for hours. By the time he came back in the morning hours, the tears had finally dried out and I was exhausted, emotionally as numb as the burns that were trying to heal across my skin.

  “That’s not happiness to see me.”

  “You think?” I retorted. I cringed, realizing he might just smack me for that. Luckily, he didn’t.

  With an amused smirk, he pushed the large chair and ottoman closer and made himself comfortable. His gaze was locked in my direction, but I refused to acknowledge the hairs standing on edge. Veronica stirred, and after fully waking up, made her way to stand beside him. What happened next shocked me. She willingly began to comb her fingers through his hair, and in return, he lightly brushed her arm. Soon after, she silently climbed onto his extended legs, her arm moving in a motion between their legs that finally got his attention to focus on her and not me.

  I turned away, not believing my eyes. Surely I was mistaken. No, this was not going to happen right in front of me. I fearfully turned back. The moment I realized her head was in his lap, I jerked back, my hand thrusting to the air to act as a shield, even though my eyes had already turned away.

  “Oh, my God,” I muttered. His chuckle chilled me to the bone, and I brought my eyes to my knees, my arms wrapping around my head for extra darkness.

  “You’ll have to forgive us, but she likes it best in the morning.”

  With that, I pressed my hands to my ears. I didn’t want see, hear or even think about what was going on just a few feet away from me. I tried to think of a song that I could sing internally, but my mind locked up, refusing to help as I continually pretended I couldn’t hear him calling my name. Well, Natalie’s name, actually.

  I’m not here, I told myself. I’m home. In bed. It’s Saturday morning and Nick and I are cuddled in bed watching TV.

  A strange clicking noise pulled me out of my trance, but not my hold. My arms suddenly pulled away from my body, stripping my head of its protection. I twisted, hearing the metal chain clang as it tightened behind me, pulling itself into the ceiling. When the chain stopped, I didn’t even have enough slack to bring my hands back to my head, leaving me open and vulnerable in so many ways that every muscle inside me tensed.

  “Natalie,” he called softly, making my eyes wince shut again.

  It was difficult, but I turned my head and slowly peeked my eyes open. Veronica was vertical in his lap again, currently nibbling on his neck, but her slip had done a disappearing act. So had his jeans. He watched my reaction intently, enjoying the discomfort he knew he was causing. He thumbed a few buttons on the cell phone in his hand. Of course the damn pulley was electronic.

  “Still think I have to rape her for sex?” His hand rubbed her back, setting her in motion, and she began to rock up and down against his body.

  Oh, God. Shoot me now. Please.

  I turned away, but could do nothing to block out the grunts and groans coming off the pair. I didn’t care what he tried to call it. He trained that girl. Whether it was the time of day, him sitting in that
chair, or a simple touch of the skin that set her off, it was still rape. Especially since her poor mind was too far gone to realize the difference.

  “Natalie?” he called. “Look at me.”

  I shook my head aggressively. I already had images that would be burned in my head until the day I died.

  “I want you to watch, Natalie. Turn your head.”

  Again I shook my head, not caring if it pissed him off. What was he going to do? Stop screwing her to find a way to make me watch them?

  A whole minute went by before I heard the snap. I gasped, all too familiar with the sound and the searing pain that always accompanied it, and I swung my head his way. His arm was draped loosely over Veronica’s shoulder, a blade flipped open in his hand. “Don’t!” I cried automatically.

  Smiling, he whispered in Veronica’s ear and she slowed down their movement. His gaze never left mine. “I told you. When I get bored sexually, I cut. However, you and that foul little mouth of yours have turned me on since I found you. Let me watch you watching us and I’ll get off without cutting her. Turn away or close your eyes and I’ll draw blood.”

  At some point my mouth fell open. I didn’t know what to say to that, or what to do. Like he did with Nick, he was turning my compassion against me. He’d already figured that out about me. I’d given him a weakness to play on. Veronica was a complete stranger to me, yet I still couldn’t allow myself to go against him, to knowingly turn away and allow her to be cut. Because even with all the drugs his brother used on me, I could still feel the sting when that knife cut into me. Veronica had no drugs; at least I didn’t think she did.

  My conscience gave me no choice but to watch. At first, I tried to focus in on the part of the chair to the left of them. I could still see every bit of movement, but I wasn’t looking directly at it. But he knew what I was doing. He snapped his fingers in the air and commanded that I look him in the eyes for the rest of the game.

  What I saw filled me with emotions I couldn’t explain. I felt violated and I wasn’t even the one being used. From the moment I was forced to lock eyes, he became more aggressive with Veronica, throwing her off his lap and onto the ottoman so he could be on top and get his head entirely too close to mine. His grunts intensified, his hands knuckled deep on her shoulders, and his body thrusted harder and harder against hers, so much that her screams were filled with more pain than pleasure, her head bouncing around uncontrollably as it hung off the edge of the ottoman. The intensity of his unrelenting stare made me want to crawl into myself and hide, because at that very moment, it wasn’t really Veronica he was fucking so roughly, but me.

  After thanking me for the best sex he’d ever had with Veronica, I snapped at him and told him to enjoy it, because screwing me in his head was all he’d ever get out of me. He laughed it off and pulled his jeans back on, leaving Veronica to recover on the bed while he headed across the hall to get cleaned up for the day.

  I felt so disgustingly dirty inside. I have to get out of here before he does that to me!

  Now was my chance, while he was distracted, maybe even getting off in the shower a little more. I called to Veronica, who I knew was awake, lightly moaning as she wiggled around in bed. Please tell me she’s not reliving that nightmare in her head and enjoying it.

  I tried repeatedly to get her to respond to my voice, but it seemed she only had ears for his commands. After she ignored my quiet attempts, I finally yelled, “HEY!”

  She jumped from the bed in a panic, fearfully looking between me and the door. Back and forth, back and forth, unsure what to think. “Veronica! Hey! He told you to let me out so I can go pee! Why haven’t you done it yet?”

  Her head shook erratically, like she was seriously trying to determine if he’d ever said such a thing. Thinking she was actually beginning to doubt herself, I pushed more. “Well? What are you waiting for? Do you want him to come back here and find me still chained? You’re disobeying him. Let me out!”

  She was clearly confused, her eyes blinking madly, but she still made her way over to me. Grabbing my wrists, she fumbled with the locks. She had no idea where the key was and tried using her fingernails to open it.

  “Veronica,” I said firmly, “go to the kitchen and get a knife.”

  She didn’t. After breaking a nail, she stuck a second one in and tried again. Realizing my mistake, I amended my wording. “Veronica, he said to just get a knife. Don’t you remember? He lost the key and he wants you to cut the bindings off of me.”

  Finally, she disappeared out of the room, returning a minute later with a filet knife.

  Oh, shit. Was I really going to let this zombie chick near my wrist with a knife that would slip through my skin as easily as it would through butter? Too late to think otherwise, she slipped the knife between my skin and the leather and cut. At least she was coherent enough to cut up and not down. Within two minutes she had my right hand free. I took the knife from her and cut my other hand free in just thirty seconds.

  I sighed, rubbing my wrists. “Veronica, he said for you to go about doing your morning routine.” I wasn’t sure what that entailed, but I didn’t care. If I got out of here, I could bring help back to free her.

  I sneaked down the hallway, hearing the distant sound of water as I passed the next door. I rushed down the stairs, and when I got to the front, I was ready to slam my head against the steel door. Same freaking electronic keypad system his brother had. My second instinct was to break the glass in a window, even though there were bars on the outside. If someone was close enough to the property line, they might hear me scream. I picked up one of the wooden dining chairs and swung against the window with all my might. But all it did was bounce back.

  You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

  I scanned the tables in the dining and adjoining living room, desperately seeking something small with substantial weight, but there wasn’t really anything decorative in his house, especially nothing that would have the power to smash a window. “Guess I’m stuck with fire again,” I muttered to myself. Running to the kitchen, I spun until I saw the stove. Groaning over the fact that he had a ceramic flat top that wasn’t going to catch anything on fire anytime soon, I began yanking drawers open, seeking something that could strike a fire.

  “Natalie.” I startled when I heard his voice, my breath quickening, my heart pounding so loud it echoed in my ears, and I quickly spun to face him, keeping my hands hidden behind my back. “A few things you should know about my home.” He rubbed the top of his wet head with a hand towel. His gray t-shirt was damp in places, showing he had dressed in a hurry, so I already knew what one of those things would be. “One. Each room has at least one hidden camera.”

  Yep, I figured cameras were to blame for him finding me so quickly.

  “And two,” he continued, throwing down the towel as he stalked me, and me being trapped in the corner of the kitchen, I had nowhere to flee. But he stopped two steps in, eyeing me curiously. “Show me your hands,” his deep voice commanded.

  My heart pounded even harder inside my chest, my hand gripping the filet knife tighter. When I didn’t answer, his attention drifted to the knife block. Obviously, there was one missing. Part of me screamed inside, wanting me to stab him, but the other part of me knew that was incredibly stupid. He wasn’t close enough. And though I had managed to get the jump on his brother, I wasn’t going to here. There was way too much distance between us to get in a shot before he reacted. And no way would I win in a physical struggle if he wasn’t injured beforehand.

  “What do you think you’re going to do with that?” he asked, reaching behind his body, pulling out his gun, rotating his wrist so I could take in its every curvature. “You know that old saying, don’t bring a knife to a gun fight? Drop it on the floor.”

  Reluctantly, I did, and it fell beside my feet.

  “Kick it to me, slowly.”

  I did it incredibly slowly, trying to recall if there was anything in the drawer behind me that could be used as a
weapon, but the only thing with a point was a pen. Even if I got it to break skin, all I’d achieve is seriously pissing off a man with a gun and a grudge.

  Guess he wasn’t going to risk bending over to pick it up, because he simply kicked it to the corner of the kitchen farthest from me, then continued moving towards me again. Standing before me, with a good six inches on me, his arm reached between my arm and my hip and pushed the drawer closed. “You’re not going to find anything to start a fire within this house. I even had the gas stove replaced with an electric. You see, I’ve learned from my brother’s mistakes. Non-breakable windows, bullet-proof even. There are no matches, no lighters, no flammables or anything else of questionable nature, that’s not under lock and key. Even the chemicals in this house are non-toxic, just in case you’re considering poison for something in the future.”

  That just…sucked. And was going to make getting out of here really difficult.

  He leaned forward and reached around me, entrapping me, gripping the edge of the granite counter tops. All I could do was lean back too, my own hands grasping the counters to steady me. I was waiting for him to snap or yell or hit me or something.

  In that eerily calm voice of his, he asked, “How did you get loose?”

  My jaw opened several times, debating what I should say.

  “Did Veronica let you out?”

  I nodded weakly, still afraid to speak, in fear he was about to unleash something nasty on me, like the calm before the storm.

  As if she heard her name, Veronica entered the kitchen. She was dressed in a clean yellow slip and moved around the kitchen pulling groceries for breakfast, completely oblivious to the tension in the room.

  “How?” he pushed.

  Whispering, I answered, “I told her to get a knife.”

  “You told her? And she did it?” Now he was pissed. He didn’t even wait for an answer. He pushed off the counter and used the momentum to turn himself towards Veronica, who had just closed the refrigerator, pulling out a container of eggs and a package of bacon. He moved so quickly there was no way to warn her, the power of the gun across her face so violent she collapsed to the floor unconscious, cracked eggs scattering across the floor.