by Devon Ashley
And because that officer took his sweet time organizing the raid, Zander got to use me three times that night, got to put his lips on every square inch of my body as if he had the right. Sometimes I still felt the things he did to me, like little aftershocks, my body twitching as my traumatized mind tried to make sense of it all, constantly trying to rewind the footage, to see where my decision-making had gone wrong. It constantly debated that if I had said no and gone to auction, that I would’ve been the one rescued in-route, and I never would’ve allowed him to touch me that way. But I was a fool to think that because of what happened to Veronica on the auction floor. Who was to say I wouldn’t have been forced to treat all the men before the auction as well? That could’ve been far more traumatizing.
There was no win-lose in this situation, just lose-lose. Veronica and I both lost the moment we were taken. I just didn’t have the damaged mind to protect me from the nightmares that plagued me every time I shut my eyes. So I rarely slept, until I passed out from utter exhaustion. Only then was I able to sleep without dreaming.
Forty-one days since I was rescued, since Zander Malone promised to find me again. How long did I have? A week? Two months? Half a year?
For hours now, I’d been lying on my side, waiting for the sun to rise, slowly lighting the forest that surrounded my new home. I couldn’t stay in that apartment any longer. Not after what happened. Though the one-story home I now resided in outside of Seattle was probably less safe than that building, I could never forget that Nick was shot there. Because of me. Even with the security personnel, the cameras and extra effort they put in to make that place safe, it was no safer than anywhere else. My best option was to just hide.
Head down. Stay off the radar.
The house was put in someone else’s name, a name no one outside my family knew about, as were all the bills, erasing the paper trail to my name. All because I didn’t trust the police anymore. Not after Zander told me how they were filled with corrupt individuals aiding their organization. I wondered exactly how much money someone made at my expense. How much did he or she make to strip me of my freedom? To sell my sexuality without a care in the world? Exactly how much money was enough to make them erase the guilt of damning my life?
I tried closing my eyes once more and rolled away from the morning light. My hand fanning out, the bed was cold and empty beside me. I scooched to the middle of the king size mattress, until I settled against warm flesh. My presence made him shift, and my eyes opened, wondering if I woke him up. Nick lay on his back beside me, his head turned away, seemingly asleep. My gaze fell upon his chest and the red scar that was forming on the area that continued to heal.
Now we were both imperfect.
Had the bullet hit just three centimeters downward, he wouldn’t be with me here today. I reached out to trace the scar over his heart. Funny how such a small entry wound could be so detrimental. Such a tiny piece of metal.
He slept better than I did these days, but only because I lied. I was gone for about a week, and he was unconscious for most of it, going in and out of surgery, barely hanging on to life. When I was rescued and taken home to my family, I feared the worst, to be taken to a grave to say my goodbye. But Nick was still alive and finally gaining consciousness again. And once I made it to his bedside and he saw that I was alright, his guilt relented and his will to survive increased.
So I didn’t dare tell the truth. I told him the same thing I told the police. That Zander had taken me hostage, but only intended to clean me up and sell me off for profit. I told them Veronica was his chosen piece of ass, and suggested that they probably rescued me right before he intended to begin with me. I said that because I didn’t think Nick could take thinking he had failed to protect me twice. He’d be forever damaged inside.
Like me.
But he knew that horrible truth now. I had managed to keep the rapes secret up until last night, when we tried to have sex for the first time since being ripped apart, but I broke down crying as soon as he pushed inside me. I tried to fight the horrible feelings and memories rising inside me, tried to tell myself that it was Nick who was trying to love me. But I couldn’t stop picturing Zander on top of me, couldn’t keep from crying or pushing Nick off of me. But I didn’t really have to push, as my crying was enough for him to pull back out, fear overtaking his eyes as they settled above to connect with mine, and that unspoken truth came to light.
Embarrassed and terrified, I had wiggled free of his entrapment, laying with my back to him, so close to the edge there wasn’t an inch to spare. He hadn’t said anything. I hadn’t said anything. But he laid behind me, close enough to keep my back warm, yet far enough away that nothing touched. It had to have killed him, but he knew he had to let me be, allowing me to sob, allowing my body to shake, with nothing but my own arms to wrap me up for comfort. Because he feared I couldn’t handle his touch at that moment. And he was probably right.
It seemed he couldn’t handle the rapes either, because shortly after, I heard glass breaking in the living room. Lots of it. And I was pretty sure the thunk I heard was his fist punching through the drywall. And I felt so guilty for not telling him sooner. I was a fool to think he’d never figure it out.
But I never had this problem the first time around. I knew I had been raped, could feel the damage when the drugs began to wear off each afternoon before the next dosage took effect, but I was so out of it when Charles violated me, that I didn’t remember the actual rapes as they happened. But with Zander, I remembered everything. Every touch, every kiss, every disgusting lick his tongue made, the way he sucked on the tender parts of my body. Worst of all, I remembered the way he felt inside me. And it was all too much. My body had cringed and tightened in all the wrong ways, as that night of horror cruelly replayed itself over in my mind.
For the first time since Nick came home from the hospital, we slept apart all night, but it was more my doing than his. He had wanted to comfort me, but I silently shrugged him off. Several hours later, I still didn’t know why I did that.
“Come here,” he murmured in his sleep. His arm reached out to pull me closer, and I lay my head on top of his chest, his hand lightly stroking my back. “I’ve told you. You won’t hurt me.”
He was too asleep to remember what happened last night. For now…
“Did you sleep?”
“Yeah,” I replied.
“Liar.” Somehow he always knew. “You need to suck it up already and take the sleeping pills.”
I murmured, “Uh-uh. I don’t want to become addicted.” Another lie on my part. Truthfully, I feared being so out of it, that when Zander did come for me, I wouldn’t be able to put up any kind of fight.
His eyes shot open and his body jerked shortly thereafter. Now he remembered, and for a moment his arm retracted from around my body. I guess he realized I wasn’t shying away from contact anymore, so his arm slowly returned to offer a softer hold. He was hesitant, but I knew what was coming before he even put together the words. Resigned, his head fell back. “Why didn’t you tell me? I never would’ve… I thought we were waiting because of me. Not because…”
I buried my eyes into his chest; my stomach was tightening, my intestines knotting.
“God, Megan.” Combing his hand through his hair, he hissed, examining the cuts that mostly surrounded the knuckles of his right hand. There was no telling what household items he destroyed last night when the anger took over. And though he was calm and soft with me right now, I knew it was a front for a crapload of emotions that were plaguing his insides. But at least he didn’t pull out the gun he now kept in his bedside table and take it out on the trees outside – like I did when he first brought it home. “I was afraid to be with you back when you had a year and a half to try to cope with it. I never would’ve done more than kiss you had I known. Hell, I probably wouldn’t have even been kissing you.” His arm wrapped more tightly around me. “Six weeks is not enough time to deal with this.”
“Nick,” I wh
ispered with an exhalation. “It’s not you, I promise.”
“I know it’s not me,” he soothed, though traces of pain came with it. “But you’re not ready. Why would you even let me touch you that way? How long were you uncomfortable before you began crying?”
“I thought I could work my way through it. It was you, and I knew that. I thought I could mentally convince myself that it was okay to let you touch me that way.”
“But it wasn’t,” he stated. “At what point should you have stopped me?” he asked again.
The kissing was fine, because the past month I had mostly kept my eyes open to keep the horrible flashes at bay. It was once his face left my sight that my insides began to panic. “I think it was the darkness. When I couldn’t see your face anymore, I could no longer convince myself that I was here with you.”
He sighed, his free hand pinching the bridge of his nose. “Today I’m putting a dimmer on that ceiling fan. I don’t care if we have to sleep with the light on the rest of our lives, you’re not sleeping in the dark anymore. It’s probably one of the reasons you can’t sleep, right?”
“Maybe.” Yes. Darkness was definitely an issue with me.
“Damn it, Megan.” His body pulled out from beneath me, leaving us lying side by side. I extended my arms and laid flat out while his upper body arced up on his arm. His hand settled on my waist, his eyes now noticing that I had put my clothing back on sometime during the night. His face was so void of expression I was afraid he was annoyed or mad at me, but the tone of his voice eased that fear. “I know it hasn’t been that long, but will you please tell me what really happened?”
Oh, God. How could I ever tell him that it was my choice to stay there and be raped by Zander? I knew it was manipulation and that I didn’t have a better plan at the moment, but still…it was disturbing, and I knew I would take that awful secret to the grave.
It took me awhile, and he waited patiently, but all I gave him was a deadpanned, “Rape is rape. I don’t need to talk about the how or the why. I just need to tell you two things.”
“Okay,” he acknowledged, worry tinting that word.
“First off, I’m always going to be looking over my shoulder. I did it before, but being around you made me feel so safe that I began to neglect my surroundings a little, and look what happened. There’s no way I’ll ever feel safe in that aspect ever again. So please don’t take that as an inability on your part to make me feel safe. Because I do feel safe with you. I’ve been taken twice and been threatened a third. I will never stop looking for danger or checking the locks ten times before we go to bed, and I need you to just accept that and not try to fix me.”
He pressed his lips together tightly, signaling his disapproval, but he nodded regretfully anyway.
“Second, I need you to fix me.” He looked at me confusedly. “I mean in another way.” I hitched my neck up on my hand like his. “I know you think it would be bad to touch me, but I do want to be touched by you. I need for you to build it up. I want to be so overwhelmed by your hands, your lips, your smell, that it’s impossible for me to focus on anything else. I know it’s not going to happen overnight, or even in the next few months, but I want to get back what we had.”
His hand reached out for my face, his thumb momentarily stroking my cheek before tucking my stray hairs. “I’ll do all this for you, but you have to do something for me too.”
“What?” I asked warily.
“I want you to start talking to Dr. Vitriz about the rapes. I don’t want you doing this alone anymore. Not when my touching you made you break down like that.”
I groaned and shook my head, but before I could contest verbally, he cut me off with, “No. You’ve been keeping things from me, and I understand why. I don’t like it, but I won’t push you if you don’t want to share with me yet. But you have to start telling your doctor about this. I don’t want you trying to do this on your own this time. You need this and you know it.”
I did know it. I knew I should’ve seen someone the first time around, but I didn’t want to truly admit what had happened to me. I just let time heal my wounds as best they could. But this time was different. I didn’t have vague memories that were nothing but a blur. What Zander did to me was front row center, the picture and sounds so crystal clear it was high definition echoing around inside my head. And it had damaged me even more than I originally thought, because I wasn’t even able to be intimate with the man I loved anymore.
“Are you comfortable with her?” he asked.
Dr. Heather Vitriz. I began seeing her a month ago for my memory loss. Using hypnosis, I actually began getting a few memories back, including ones that both Nick and my family were a part of, but I still had a long way to go. For some reason I thought it would be like a veil, and once lifted, everything would come pouring back. Instead, it’s been more like chipping away at a block of ice, freeing memories one sliver at a time. But I’m still hopeful that one of my sessions will be the one and it’ll all come rushing back at once.
And was I comfortable with Dr. Vitriz? Yeah, I thought I was. She was gentle and respected my wishes to not unearth the memories around the time I disappeared. I just wasn’t ready to handle those yet. And most importantly, she was a woman, so it was just easier for me to talk to her. “Yeah, I like her.” Breathing deeply, I took my time letting it back out again, enjoying the way Nick’s fingertips lightly dug into my skin. Even now, he was trying to secure me in his arms, continuously trying to protect and keep me safe. “And I’ll try to talk about…it.”
“Good. Because I want to be with you forever, but we can’t move forward with that until you begin to heal yourself.”
I inhaled another deep breath as his hand caressed my cheek again. “Forever? That’s a long time. You sure you want to put up with me that long?” My left hand snaked up his body and caressed the side of his face. Trying to lighten the mood between us, I added, “I can be incredibly stubborn at times.”
His cheeks pinched as his lips extended outward. “I’m willing to embrace your imperfections.”
His eyes immediately shifted to the hand securing my head, scanning down to my where my burn was. None of the burns had faded completely with just the single treatment. But even if they had, even if those spots had blended with my skin, they’d never be completely invisible to us, a constant reminder of the past.
Another forever. One of the more painful ones. Maybe I’d look into continuing the laser treatments, maybe I wouldn’t. The tables had finally turned. Where my burns used to bother me more than the rapes, the rapes now bothered me more than the burns.
Nick reached out and pulled me over him as he rolled down on his back again. I loved lying within his tight grip, the side of my face flush against that spot between his chest and shoulder, my breaths adjusting to match the rise and fall of his lungs. He didn’t have to tell me that he loved me, nor I him, because it went without saying.
I kept telling myself that all Zander got was my body, just a shell that protected my mind, but I was lying. He’d managed to rip my soul in ways that still continued to sting, because in less than three days, he had managed to break me in ways I never thought possible. I could only pray that Nick could bring me back from the darkness a second time, because I was in deeper now, more traumatized than ever before.
I didn’t know what was to come of us, what tomorrow would bring. Or if the constant worry inside my head would ever play out in reality. I just knew that Nick and I could always move, could always find new jobs, could always find new starts in life, and we’d do anything necessary to make our life together work. So when the night brought out the darkness and its shadowy tendrils tried to ensnare me once again, so long as his arms were wrapped tightly around me, keeping me safe and warm, I knew I’d always find the strength to face those nightmares head on.
And that was a forever I could hold onto.
*Due to high levels of under-reporting, the number of sex-trafficking victims worldwide is impossible to
determine. The US Dept. of State estimates that in the last decade, 20 million women and children across the world have been forced into the sex trade industry, which generates more than 32 billion dollars annually.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Devon Ashley resides in Texas with her husband and son. She has a Master of Science degree in Biological Sciences with an emphasis in Microbiology. In her free time she loves to write, design, knit and read an eclectic range of books (super exciting, right?)
The Immortal Archives
New Adult Urban Fantasy
Ordained, One
Metamorphosis, Two
Catacombs, Three (Coming Summer 2013)
Falling
New Adult Contemporary Romance
Falling In Between, One
Falling Away, Two
Of Dust and Darkness
Young Adult Pixie Fantasy
Dust, One
Stardust, Two (Coming Winter 2013)
Nearly Broken
Nearly Broken
New Adult Romantic Suspense
Links above are for GoodReads and Amazon US. For additional buy links, release dates and general stalking, please go to the author’s website.
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