Broken Revival

by Autumn Winchester

  “Emily?” I asked, more to myself than the man who sat across from me. I knew a girl named Emily. She was made to watch while I serviced a man because he had given her to Master Galvin as a ‘gift’. She had been a blubbering mess the entire time. Just thinking about it made me shudder.

  “Do you know her?” Elijah asked, tilting his head to the side as he watched me for any indication.

  “I might. . . Sir,” I answered, glancing at him. “I didn’t know many others there, but a girl named Emily watched when I had to give a man a blow job.”

  “I see. . . Well, I guess we'll find out in a few days when she comes by,” Elijah said, not at all surprised by my words. “Are you done?”

  “I guess so, Sir,” I answered. I wished for more but was afraid to ask.

  “What about some TV then?” he suggested, standing up and taking the bowls and his to the sink.

  “If it pleases you, Sir,” I replied awkwardly.

  “Okay, the ‘Sir’ thing is going a little too far. You don’t have to say it all the time,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

  “Okay . . .”

  Shaking his head, he led the way from the kitchen to the living room. The room had black leather furniture and a huge flat screen TV was mounted on the wall.

  “Sit down wherever you want,” he said.

  Elijah sat on the couch, watching and waiting for what I would do. I stood there, not knowing what place to pick. He had said this house would not be anything like I had previously known, but that didn’t help knowing where I should sit. I had always been told what to do, down to how and where to do it.

  Undecided and afraid of making a mistake, I made my way towards Elijah and knelt at his feet. It was the easier choice. Men always liked the girls to be on the floor. I hoped Elijah would be the same. I didn't want to make a mistake and be punished. I really would love to curl up in the big oversized chair with a blanket, or even sit on the couch near him.

  He gently ran his fingers along my braided hair. As he moved his hand towards my chin, I couldn’t help but lean into his palm and close my eyes. His touch was so much warmer than the men who touched me before now.

  It didn't make sense.

  “Although I like you kneeling for me, little girl, now really isn’t the time,” he stated calmly. “How about you come up here and sit beside me.” He patted the seat next to him.

  I instantly stood, and sat on the couch. My body sank into the cushions; it was almost as soft as the bed. Elijah pulled me by my shoulders so I was leaning against him. I was amazed I wasn't scared. His warmth and old spice smell soothed my nerves. I felt a tingling of déjà vu. I couldn’t remember where, but I knew that smell.

  Here, wrapped in his arms, I felt protected. It had been too long since I’d felt that way. I knew it wouldn’t last, even though I wanted nothing more than that for the rest of my life.

  Lost in thought, I jumped in surprise when a cell phone began to ring with some sort of loud song I had never heard before. Elijah rubbed my arm with the end of his fingers to calm me as he turned the TV to mute. I didn’t even notice that he’d turned it on.

  “Hello,” Elijah answered. “How did she find out?” His voice stayed calm, even though his posture stiffened.

  “Okay,” he continued. “I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes, Mom.” He hung his phone up, sighing deeply. Turning to me, he said, “I’m sorry, but I have a family issue that needs to be dealt with immediately. You can either stay here and watch TV or go to bed. I shouldn’t be too long.”

  Kissing the top of my head, he then stood up and proceeded to make sure he had his phone before making his way to the entryway, where he had left his shoes and coat. After telling me he would try to not be too long, once again, he closed the door behind him, giving me a look that spoke louder than words: he didn’t want to leave me.

  I was never a fan of being alone. I’d hated the past few years, even with the lack of hope that I would ever be free. I missed my parents, still not knowing if I would ever see my mom again. I didn’t even know if she was still alive, or if she’d tried to look for me. I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to see her after everything she’d put me through.

  I was afraid of being alone. I had once been locked in a small dark cage that was cold as ice.

  Not knowing what to do after he left, as the TV held no interest to me, I walked through the house. I wasn’t sure if there were certain rooms I wasn’t allowed to enter, so I didn’t dare enter any room with a closed door.

  Passing the front door for the third time, I decided I would just kneel and wait for Elijah to return. The house felt cold without him, and I didn’t know what else to do. There was no way I would be able to sleep if I tried. Kneeling a few feet from the door, I placed my hands behind my back with my head down.

  I wasn’t used to such quiet. Even while I was kept in that dark cell, I could always hear some sort of noise. Yelling, groaning, crying, and even an occasional gunshot. Being here in this nice warm house, the quiet was so . . .quiet.

  “Please, let me go,” I sobbed as I was shoved to my knees in front of the man who held my life in his hands.

  “Ah, but I can’t, my sweets,” the man laughed. “I am the man master of this place, and everyone answers to me. I wanted you, therefore I got you.”

  “Please,” I begged. My hands were still tied behind my back. Morgan stood behind me, refusing to answer anything. He was shifty as stood before me.

  “You are now mine. You will learn to not speak unless spoken to,” the man said as he walked around his desk to where I was kneeling. “I am Master Galvin, and you will give me what I require from scum like you.” With that, he snapped his fingers, demanding another man slap my cheek, the noise of skin against skin to echo across the room. I cried out in pain and shock and fell to the side from the force of the blow.

  Galvin laughed before pulling me back up to the correct kneeling position. “When I enter a room, you are to be in this position. Eyes down, knees shoulder-width apart, and hands behind your back. If you are not, you will be punished. I will not repeat myself on this rule. Ever.”

  My breath began to come in heavy pants as the memories crept forth. My palms began to sweat, and I rubbed them on my pant legs. I took a few deep breaths in, hoping that the panic would not get worse.

  Please, not now.

  I was on my knees with my head pulled back by my hair, my scalp crying out in pain. Master Galvin stood off to the side, watching with a gleeful look. Morgan stood in front of me, one hand in my hair. He had his pants unzipped and down so his hard dick was standing straight up. It was pointing right at me, and the sight of it made me queasy.

  “Now, open that mouth of yours. I can’t wait to feel the heat around me, sucking me until I shoot my load down your throat.” Morgan moaned as he used his other hand to force my mouth open, squeezing my cheeks to the point of pain.

  When it was open wide enough, he shoved his cock into my mouth, making me gag as he hit the back of my throat.

  “If you bite him, you’ll be very sorry,” Master Galvin said.

  I had learned to stop most of my panic attacks because Master Galvin loved to punish me for them. He’d force one of his men to beat me or use me in a certain way—sometimes both, if he was in a mood.

  I could feel the bonds that were almost permanently around my hands those first few months. Of course, if I had only obeyed and not tried to run every chance I got, I may have had a few less bruises. The men were not gentle. I don’t think they even knew what the word meant.

  Apparently, I didn’t do a good enough job giving Morgan my first blow job, because after his grunting and groaning and shooting his cum down my throat, I was shoved backward, barely catching myself on my tied hands.

  “You’re worthless!” Morgan snarled as he tucked himself back into his pants. “Your mother was better.”

  He then kicked me in the stomach, knocking the breath out of me.

  That wasn't the last
time. I had been forced to practice on the men for days on end, until it was what they deemed to be good enough. My jaw hurt constantly, making me unable to eat much of anything for days.

  Rocking back and forth, my heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest. I covered my face with my hands, folding my body in two.

  The front door opened, letting in a wave of cold air.

  The first time I panicked was right after I was released from the burning ropes and shut in what I would be calling my home for years to come. I was worried about my mom, worried about finding a way out of hell. I refused to let those men have their way with my body without a fight. And I would fight. I would fight till my last dying breath. But it didn't do any good. The men always won.

  “Oh honey,” said a female voice quietly nearby. The presence of another slowly brought me back to the present. “Come on. Up you get.”

  The woman gently pulled me up and I didn’t fight. I was tired, sore, and scared. All my fight had long since been beaten out of me.

  What was the point in fighting anymore?

  I removed my hands from my face and wrapped them around my middle. I could feel my ribs cry out in pain from the pressure and remembrance of old breaks that had never healed quite right, but it was better than the blackness that wanted to take over. I was led to the couch where the lady sat down and pulled my head to her lap. My tears continued. She unbraided my hair and began to run her fingers through my black locks.

  Surprisingly, my breaths began to even out and my tears slowed. My heartbeat slowly calmed and I stared blankly at the table in front of me.

  I jerked when a blanket was laid over my body, and that’s when I noticed I was shaking. My legs were pulled up to my chest and my teeth were chattering. My entire body was shivering from the inside out.

  “It’s okay,” the female said, not stopping her fingers. “It’s only Zack. You’re freezing.”

  “S . . . s. . . sorry,” I stuttered out.

  “Don’t worry, Dawn,” she shushed, her voice soothing like a mother’s voice.

  “Emily, baby? I’m gonna give Elijah a call,” said the man named Zack quietly from where he stood behind the couch. I hoped he wouldn't get any closer to me.

  I couldn’t help but compare his voice to Sir’s. It was soft and soothing, just like Elijah’s.

  “Okay,” she replied, just as quiet. “Why were you scared, Dawn?” she asked me.

  “Too quiet,” I whispered as my body began to warm. “No one here.”

  “The TV was on,” she pointed out. “But I can understand. I had a few panic attacks the first few weeks after I was rescued, and I was there for less than a week. I couldn’t stand to be touched, or to be alone with just my thoughts. I hated it. Of course, my life wasn’t much better before my boyfriend sold me to Galvin and his crew.”

  “I saved her, though,” Zack said as he plopped into the chair closest to us. “Took me two months before I could touch her, and six months to earn her trust, but we’ve made it this far.”

  “And my love,” the female—Emily—whispered with a smile.

  “That, too,” Zack laughed awkwardly. “Anyway, Elijah should be back within the hour. We should have been here before he left. I'm sorry we weren’t.”

  After a few minutes of silence between the three of us, Zack grabbed the remote from the coffee table where Elijah had left it and changed the channel. I closed my eyes, too tired to keep them open any longer as I enjoyed the soothing feeling of Emily playing with my hair.

  Chapter 6

  Elijah

  I didn’t want to leave Dawn, but when my mother called in near panic, I didn’t have much choice. I figured she would be okay by herself for a few minutes and I would call my brother once I was in the car.

  Once in the car and backing out of my spot, I called my brother. He owed me enough favors, so he certainly could do me one now.

  “What’s up bro?” he answered on the fourth ring. He was always the happy person out of the two of us. I just went with the flow and got the job done, whatever it was.

  “Really? Do you have to shout?” I asked. “Can you do me a huge favor?”

  “Sure,” he answered. I could mentally see him shrug.

  “Can you go check on Dawn? And take Emily with you. Mom called and said Joan showed up and wants some answers,” I said.

  “Yep. I’ve been waiting to see little Dawn again,” he replied.

  I knew he’d be disappointed, since the girl he remembered was not the same in any way—not after what she’d been through.

  “Just be careful, please. She’s not like you remember,” I warned, hoping that he wouldn’t be hurt.

  “Yeah, I gotcha, Elijah,” he said sadly.

  I had been scared out of my mind a few weeks ago when I had left her with my mom and she told me Dawn was coughing, and could hardly move through the pain. I’d called my dad instantly. That week was the longest of my life. I was by her side as much as I possibly could be.

  I grew up with a bright-eyed girl who wasn’t afraid of anything and always spoke her mind. We were close as we possibly could be for our ages—like cousins. Dawn was nine years younger than me, like a little sister who drove me nuts most of the time. She’d follow me everywhere, asking me question after question or just talking non-stop. My brother, who was five years older than me, constantly made fun of me because I had a shadow who thought I’d hung the moon.

  The get-togethers grew farther apart as we grew older. Mom began to work more hours at the homeless shelters around town, and my brother and I began to get into sports and more involved in school.

  When we heard about Quentin’s death, we dropped everything to help Dawn and Joan, even offering them the space above the garage at my parents’ home. Joan declined, even though my parents knew that where they lived wasn’t the best place.

  I went off to college and entered the FBI program, following Zack a year later. Determination and the lack of family ties of a wife or children was the main reason we gained positions so quickly. After getting into the FBI, Zack was able to dig up the case on Dawn. At that time, they didn’t have much information, or the interview transcripts in the file. He found out they were ruling the case as a runaway.

  I didn’t think it was the normal runaway: I had seen a fair share of them, but I couldn’t say anything, since we were not allowed to be on the case.

  When my mother called, saying Joan knew Dawn had been found and wanted answers, I knew I would have to come up with something to tide her over. I wanted to know who told her.

  Looking at the house with almost all the lights on downstairs, I took a deep breath before I made my way out of the car.

  “Elijah,” my mother said, relieved. She pulled me into a tight hug as I closed the front door behind me. “I tried to get her to understand that I didn’t know anything,” she whispered near my ear.

  “I’ll handle it,” I stated before my mom released me.

  “Good to see you, Mrs. Ellis,” I greeted as I entered the living room. My voice was monotonous as I addressed the woman before me. The living room was laid out in a similar way as my own but in lighter colors. The walls were painted a dark blue color, making the oak and white furniture stand out more.

  The woman sat on the white couch, clutching a tissue in her hands. Her dull green eyes were red and puffy from crying. Her face had more wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. As a teenager, I always thought Joan was in her twenties instead of late thirties. Her light blond hair had a few gray strands now as it was pulled into a sloppy ponytail. She looked old—and that was putting it nicely.

  She was a drug addict, and looked as though she still used drugs. My best guess was meth and black market pills.

  “So, is it true? Has my baby has been found?” she cried. Her eyes pleaded for me to give her the information she wanted so desperately.

  “I’m not at liberty to say,” I said, stuffing my hands in my pockets and leaning against the door frame between the living r
oom and entryway. “You know I’m not on that case for personal reasons. Who told you, anyhow?”

  “Morgan knows a guy who told him,” she answered. I knew it was going to be that deadbeat. “You dug up information once before. You can do it again. I need to know where my daughter is. Please,” she begged, leaning forward, still clutching the white tissue.

  I could understand her need for answers, but with it still being an open investigation, and Dawn being eighteen, Joan was not meant to know anything. She still wasn't ruled out as a suspect in the case.

  “I’m not on the case, so I don’t have any information. My guess is she’s been put into witness protection because her kidnappers have not been identified.”

  “Can’t you get Zack to ask around and get some information? Or have him hack into the system to find out where she is?”

  “No, I can’t. He nearly lost his badge the last time; he won’t risk it again.”

  “But I want to see my daughter!” she wailed. “I’ll do anything to just see her.”

  “I know you do, and I'm sure you will. You just have to be patient,” my father said calmly as he walked into the room, patting me on my shoulder on his way past me. He was still in his blue work scrubs, a clear sign he hadn’t taken the time to shower before leaving the hospital after his shift.

  “I won’t stop until I see her,” Joan said, her voice turning cold.

  “You are just going to have to wait,” I said. There was nothing I’d do right now. Not willinging anyhow.

  My phone began to ring, and I excused myself to answer it in another room. I was relieved to get away from the grieving woman. Why hadn’t my mother called Zack instead?

  “Yeah?” I answered, seeing it was my brother calling.

  “Yo, Eli man,” he greeted me.

  “I’m busy, Zack,” I sighed, rubbing at my eyes with my free hand.

  “What were you thinking, leaving her alone? It was only fifteen minutes, but she was totally lost in her mind,” he nearly shouted.