by Leah Holt
It was the first time I had actually allowed my body to feel that type of release. Everything had been bottled up, snugly hidden and removed from the front of my mind. I couldn't let myself feel anything, it was too painful.
If I had let these tears control me, I wouldn't be alive.
But right then, I cried. The tears drew long streaks down my face, spilling and rolling like fresh rain in the desert. It was more than just my parents I was crying for. I was crying for being sold, I was crying for all the horrible torture Remo had put me through. Every tear was a piece of my pain, spilling over my cheeks and falling away.
The droplets fell from my skin, splashing into my hands, and there was nothing I could do to shut it off. All the walls came crashing down as I finally gave in, the dam holding it all back had shattered into a million pieces.
Dante's phone rang from in the kitchen, jumping, I took in a deep breath and pulled myself together. Wiping my nose with the back of my hand, I picked it up and stared at the screen.
He hadn't had a phone call on this line since I had been with him. I wanted to answer it, but I didn't.
For months I had been forbidden to use a phone, for months I had been cordoned off from the rest of the world except for the one trip for training. Just thinking about it made my skin crawl.
That first breath of fresh air when Remo had finally opened the front door was euphoric and infuriating. . .
I hated the memory, I hated him.
Hate is a strong word, too strong to be thrown around as much as it is by people who have no idea what it truly means.
Hate should be saved for those who deserve it, for those who carried nothing but evil.
And every memory of that monster was coated in hatred.
He deserved the hate I gave to him, because he earned it.
Fourteen
Ivy
The Sun. The Sky. The Air.
There is nothing in this world that should be taken for granted. Nothing.
I knew that now.
But what would you do if it was stolen away and all of it was used against you as a type of reward?
Could you go without air, without the sun, without the sky?
There's a breaking point for everyone. And it comes when your choices lie in what you do, not what you deserve.
Memories gave way to understanding, they tarnished a time in my life when I couldn't see how precious the most simple things were. They forecast a cloud of suspicion on my future I would never forget.
“Ivy, when I open this door you can't run.”
“Yes, Sir.” Lowering my eyes as I was taught, I folded my hands across my waist.
“You've come a long way, I don't want us to end up stepping backwards.” Brushing his fingers down my arm, I had to keep my body from shivering in disgust.
I wanted to go outside, I wanted to get the hell out of that house even if it was only for a short time. I didn't want to do anything to fuck it up.
“I won't, Sir.” With my eyes lowered and hands tucked away, my muscles scratched to be set free.
Remo couldn't see under my skin, although I was sure he wished he could. He wanted to own every piece of me, even what was strictly only mine to give away.
I had to do everything I could to stop myself from screaming in his face and telling him to go fuck himself like I had been doing up until recently.
Last week was the worst. Remo had lost the very last bit of patience he had left after how I acted. Those are his words, not mine.
I didn't know why he expected I would just bend over backwards and take it up the ass. He knew from day one this wasn't going to be easy.
But last week I had hit my limit.
And I guess, so did he.
The bruises I could tolerate. A black eye, a swollen lip, those things had become my norm. His fingertips were painted all over my arms, my ribs, my thighs. Some were new, some were old.
I had started to get really good at shutting down, holding back my screams, letting him take out his anger and get it over with.
I pushed, I pushed him every day. But slowly he had worked me down. The small closet had become my daily reminder of the mouth I couldn't shut off, and the man who wanted to train it.
But last week, he hit a nerve. I had given in to the small things he requested. I served him dinner, half nude and hardly covered. I had sat how he'd told me to, I had stopped mouthing off as often.
This. . . This I just couldn't stand for.
He wanted me to kneel at the end of his bed—which I did, but only because it kept me from having to look at him. Any amount of time I didn't have to look at his evil, horrendous face was fine with me.
So I knelt down as I was told, knees on the floor, arms resting in my lap. But then he did something that was so degrading, so fucking insane, I lost it.
My lid had been blown, my temper rising and exploding in one violent burst.
He wanted me to lean forward and rest on my arms. It was a strange request, but I complied. I didn't ask why, I didn't really care. My life was already fucked, what difference would that make?
I felt a pressure on my back digging into my spine. Looking over my shoulder, Remo was sitting on the edge of the bed, wine glass in hand and his feet resting on me like I was a fucking piece of furniture.
That was all it took. Snapping my back straight, his feet slid off and hit the floor. Remo's eyes grew ten sizes, his pupils fizzled with rage. “Ivy, get back in your place!”
He went to stand, but all I saw was red. I wasn't a fucking animal, I wasn't just a worthless human being.
Jumping to my feet, I shoved him back down, forcing him to drop his drink on the floor. My lips curled, brows crinkled and scrunched. “You!” Yelling, I slammed my fist against his chest. “You are not going to treat me like a fucking dog!”
He started to laugh, like my outburst was amusing. I wasn't laughing.
Pulling my arm back, I let my fist crack down hard. I knew hitting him would get me into trouble, I also knew that in his sick mind, he got pleasure out of me fighting him.
It was disgusting, the way he would smile when I defied an order. I couldn't understand why it seemed to turn him on. He always demanded I be subservient, but the glow in his gaze was nothing but sexual, and it turned my stomach.
Not this time. This time, I had gone for something more delicate; his cock.
Using all my weight, I punched his dick. Remo let out a harsh squeak, tugging his knees up into his chest as he rolled to his side and cupped his junk. “You fucking bitch,” he grumbled in a hoarse and shallow voice.
“Fuck you! I've put up with your bullshit, but I will not be treated like a fucking animal!” Stepping back, my hands dug into my hips, eyes slit tight.
“You're going to wish you never did that.” Curled up in a ball, he rocked his hips. “You're going to regret this, you stupid cunt.”
“Cunt!” Screaming, I climbed on top of him and started scratching at his face. My nails tore bits of skin, his blood oozed down, staining my fingers red.
Enough was enough; at least that was what I thought.
If I had been thinking more clearly, I could have run away while he was keeled over in pain. I didn't. My anger had gotten the best of me, and instead of running towards freedom, I dove head first back into my prison.
I felt empowered, I had control, I was in charge right then. But that quickly changed.
Remo popped up like a fucking cat that had been tossed from the top of a building. He flailed wildly, face cringing, only to twist at the last second and land on its feet.
Before I could react, he had me flipped over and on my back, pinning my arms above my head, legs spread, and trapped between his thighs.
I couldn't move. I knew he was going to punish me for what I did, but I didn't care. The cuts on his face were enough to bring a smile to my lips.
“I hope you had fun, Love, because that's the last time you'll ever have that chance to pull something like that.”
/> His teeth clamped down on my stomach, biting hard but not breaking the skin. Yelling in pain, my head bent back.
That was new, he had yet to use anything more than his hands and fists to stunt my disobedience. But once he opened that door, no object was off limits for use.
“Did that hurt?” he asked, tilting his head, brows bending in sarcastic concern. “Awe, you poor thing.” The metal tink of the cuffs chimed over my head.
I was trapped, completely at the mercy of this enraged psycho. I tried to get away, I tried to tear my arms free, but I wasn't breaking away from his chains.
Scooting down, he used his weight to keep one leg steady, hands folding out my left thigh so the delicate skin was open and free. Gently, Remo tickled my skin with his long fingers, their spider-like feel made me shudder.
“This is going to hurt, Ivy, but this is for your own good, to teach you a lesson. This is your fault, just like it always is. Don't worry though, the pain will pass, but the marks will stay forever. Just like you're mine forever.” Smiling, Remo opened his mouth wide.
I didn't want to watch, I didn't want to see him desecrate my body with scars. Closing my eyes, I tried to escape to a happier place before the pain could hit me.
Again, luck wasn't on my side.
Luck, that wasn't a real thing. Life was filled with either good or bad, that was it. It didn't matter what you went through, it didn't matter what type of person you were. There was no higher power watching from above, dangling strings for us to catch.
I knew this because I had ended up here.
The rigid edges of his teeth came first as they clamped down hard, digging and piercing through the skin.
The warm rush of blood flowed down the back of my leg, soaking into the mattress beneath me. Crying out, I screamed so loud I didn't even recognize the sound of my own voice.
But I didn't cry.
I still wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
My mind was all I had to use against him. My physical strength wasn't enough to stop him, my voice wasn't enough to make him think about me as a living, breathing person.
He didn't care about me.
So I let him think I was submissive, but he was dead wrong. I was just buying time, waiting for the right moment.
It had worked, we were going outside now. Maybe in time, I could get him to trust me. . . Trust is the wrong word. I needed him to think he controlled me, every last piece of me.
But he could never get inside my head, he would never know what I was actually thinking.
“I'm warning you, behave yourself.” His eyes flicked to my face, trying to see if he could catch even a glimpse of the fight I had inside. “What are the rules?”
“No talking, no looking at anyone.”
“And?” Holding my inner arm, he squeezed.
“No answering any questions.”
“Good girl. Let's go out, Love.” Remo walked in front of me, I trailed behind. Just like I was told to do.
It was fucking pathetic, he was fucking pathetic.
What kind of man would want this?
What kind of man would desire a woman this way?
There was no other word to describe a person like him, other than monster.
He was what scary stories were written about. He was the freak under your bed, the red eyes in your closet; Remo was my nightmare.
The car ride was short, but I tried to let myself enjoy the freedom of space.
No walls, no locks, no chains. I wanted to enjoy it all, but happiness had vanished from me. Other than the comfort of no confines, everything else still made me sick.
I thought that coming outside would bring me a sliver of joy, but it didn't.
Instead, all I felt was rage. He had taken everything from me to the point that the sun, the air, the sky. . .
None of it was beautiful.
There was no shine to the bright star that brought life to the earth, the sky was pale and gray even though it should have been bright blue. Even the air was tainted with sour notes I couldn't stop from flooding into my lungs.
Fuck, I hate him!
Fuck you!
Fuck you!
My voice might have been shut off, but the words still screamed inside my head. He couldn't hear them, but I could. And they were loud and clear.
Remo threw open the door to the restaurant, his arms out wide as he waited for the others around to recognize he was there.
“Hello, Lidia, how's business today?”
A small woman cupped her hands on the counter, forcing a large smile. “It's been wonderful, Sir, thank you.”
She doesn't like him either.
Following behind him, he strolled to a table in the center of the room. He didn't pull out my chair, he didn't even look at me. I stood awkwardly for a moment, unsure if I was supposed to sit or just stand there like his servant.
Cocking his head up, he nodded to the chair across from him, and whispered. “Sit, before you embarrass me.”
I did as I was told, sitting down gently. My thigh still burned, the chunks of flesh that had been torn away barely scabbed over. Cringing as I sat, Remo shot me a look. I could feel his eyes, their emptiness burrowing a hole into my skin.
But I didn't look up. I wasn't allowed to.
A waitress came over and took our order. He—of course—ordered for me. Soup and salad, but I wasn't hungry, I didn't want to eat a fucking thing. I didn't want anything he gave me. Even the dress on my body made my skin itch so badly I wanted to tear it off and burn it.
“This is nice, isn't this nice?” Spooning soup into his mouth, he pushed the bread my way. “Go on, eat.”
Nodding my head, I took a slice of bread and picked at small crumbs. I knew he wasn't happy about how I was making him look. He watched me like a fucking hawk, just trying to catch one wrong move so he could punish me.
“I want you to realize, Ivy, that this can be good. I'm sure you can see it now, look at us. We're at a nice restaurant, eating like civilized people.” Slurping the liquid off his spoon, he wiped his lips with his napkin.
The sounds coming from him made my stomach turn. I hated having to be anywhere near him. For him to think that this was any type of act to show me he cared, was just ridiculous. Remo was a selfish bastard, that was it, nothing more.
Resting another small piece of bread on my tongue, I could feel an unknown set of eyes just watching me. I wasn't sure where they were, but they were there. I wanted to look up, I wanted to look around, but it was forbidden.
The temptation was killing me.
How can he expect me to just sit here like a fucking puppet?
I listened for Remo's movements, the way he ate, the way he drank. . . I studied it all.
When he ate, he would hold his head upright and forward. But when he took a drink, that would be my chance to catch a glimpse. He had this habit of tipping his head up high and closing his eyes.
There were a lot of habits he had that I started to notice. Small things, but habits nonetheless. His hands moved in a symphony of ways as he spoke. It didn't matter what he was saying, his hands were always dancing around.
When he was in a really good mood, his lip would always curve to the right when he smiled. And when he was angry, his lids would hover half-closed, and his eyes would glaze in chalky white.
Watching him from the corner of my eye, he reached for his glass.
This is it. This is my chance.
The eyes were still on me, hardening my lungs. I had to find them, I had to try and send a message to them for help. If I could signal I was in danger, if I could mouth the words to someone, then maybe this could all be over.
My chance, this is my chance.
As the glass tipped up, I forced my eyes up quick with a sudden and sharp jerk. My body tensed as I tried desperately to search for whoever was looking our way. I failed.
Remo caught me, his mouth thinning as lines creased his forehead in rows. Pounding his fist on the table, my body jolted. Gritting
his teeth, he spoke so low only I could hear him.
“How dare you? You just wait, just wait till we get home.”
A large, heavy hand came down on his shoulder, thick fingers curling over tight. “Remo.” The man stood so tall, I was tempted, oh so tempted, to angle my head all the way up just to look at his face.
But I couldn't. The sting in my thigh helped to remind me of why.
“Dante.” Remo's voice hovered in a place I hadn't heard before.
Is that fear?
Or just disgust?
I couldn't quite tell. I had only ever heard him talking to his guys and they were well below him. Remo would bark, and they would move. It was easy to see he was in charge.
But right now, I was questioning where this man stood. He was far too brazen to just be another member to Remo's work force. There was strength and power in his voice.
My body tingled, a warm rush buzzed and zipped through my muscles.
“Don't be rude, Remo, introduce me to your friend.” I knew he was looking down on me, his eyes were just as heavy as his voice.
It was the same feeling I had felt before.
He had been the person staring at me, he had been the one letting his eyes talk to me through just their power.
“Dante—”
Cutting him off, the man leaned down, picking up my delicate hand off the table. “I'm Dante, and you are?”
His fingers were rough, but smooth, tender, but strong. I could feel my body melting as prickles broke across my skin.
And I broke all three rules at once.
Looking up into his eyes, I spoke clear and firm. “I'm Ivy.”
Lifting my hand to his lips, Dante kissed the back of my palm. “It's nice to meet you, Ivy.”
Ivy had been my name.
Celia was what I walked away with.
I broke all the rules he gave me that day and after that, we never left the house.
Well—I never left the house.
But that moment, that instant of pure attraction never left me.