The door clicks and he’s there again. The beast stops in front of me and something falls to the floor. A piece of fabric, I think.
Now he’s kneeling and lifting my chin. I look away, knowing not to meet his eyes. By the silent way he holds my face, I know he’s studying me. “Time to change things up a bit,” he says, and I know he sees the ghost now too. “Put it on.”
He stands over me while I take the clothing and dress with shaky hands. It’s a man’s, white, V-neck t-shirt that hangs to mid-thigh. Probably his. Something he doesn’t wear anymore.
The clothing swallows me up and feels strange. I’ve been naked for so long. It chafes where my skin is broken, but I push past it, my pain tolerance different than what it used to be.
“Follow me,” he says, then strides through the door. I get up and go to follow him, but hesitate at the threshold. Maybe this is a trick. He stops and turns around, waiting. Not a trick. I hurry to catch up, ignoring the ache in my knees, and walk behind him as we go down a hallway. A hallway I walked down a long time ago.
We turn a corner and sunlight streams in through the large windows from the living room. I squint and jerk my arm up, trying to shield my eyes from the daylight. It’s so bright. So bright. So bright, I walk right into a wall and stagger backwards.
His footsteps come in close and I brace, but when he takes my arm, he’s gentle. “This way.”
He’s leading me now. We make another turn, and after a few more blinks, things start to come into focus, and I see we’re in a kitchen. A big kitchen, with a deck just beyond, and a large view of the mountains. The mountains. I gasp. I think some part of me thought I’d never leave that room. And they look so beautiful right now, the sun shining down on them in that lazy way, bringing out a richness in all the greens and golds and browns.
After a moment, I realize he’s watching me, so I look down quickly, not sure what else to do. I hear a screeching sound and turn to see him take a chair from around the dining table and set it so its facing the window, then he motions for me to sit. I do as ordered, that strange feeling inside me again, knowing he placed the chair that way just for me.
He stands behind me now, petting my hair while I look out the window, my eyes trained on the mountains, my ears trained on his voice. “You’ve kept your word, Ava,” he says. “And I know I haven’t made it easy for you. Let’s see if you can keep it up if I give you a little freedom. I’ll tell you first, all the doors to the outside are locked, and there are a couple inside that are locked, too. Anything that’s locked is off-limits, the rest you’re free to roam. But that freedom will come at a price. You’re going to take on a couple chores. First, you’ll start cleaning the house. This is your home now, so you might as well start taking care of it. And second, you’ll take on the cooking. We could both use a decent meal. You’ll make a grocery list and I’ll send Red to the store for you.”
He leans down, places a kiss on my hair, and whispers, “But our sessions will continue. And that will still be your room, Ava. That will always be your room.” He’s standing over me again, quiet now, nothing but the whisper of his hand over my hair.
A monster and his muse.
I stare at the mountains, so vibrant, so magnificent, my eyes soaking up such beauty that it’s almost too much. I’ve been surrounded by greys and blacks for what feels like an eternity. I wonder again if this is a trick. A new way the beast has found to hurt me. Show me this, then take it away for another lifetime. But that’s okay. I’ve learned to cherish what bits of reprieve I’m granted.
“I suppose in some ways, I should thank you,” he says, his voice quiet. “When I look in the mirror, my outsides match my insides now. So I don’t have to pretend anymore. Well, not like I was ever as nice as I was pretty, but…I won’t have to deal with all those silly girls that only saw a handsome face, always trying to get me to notice them, go out with them. Stupid cunts, all of them. They had no idea who I really was.” He leans in close again. “But you knew, didn’t you, Ava? You’ve always known. Maybe that’s why I’ve always been so drawn to you. Always wanted to get inside you, because you’ve always been inside me.”
He places a kiss on my temple, then slides his hand around the back of my neck. “So delicate,” he mutters. “So delicate, I could crush you, with barely any effort. Do you know how hard I had to hold myself back in those early days? I was so angry, Ava. So damn angry. I knew I’d kill you if I wasn’t careful. And how I wanted to kill that fucker that got you first. I was more torn up about that then what he did to my face, can you believe that? Maybe not at first, but…once I got used to my new look, I moved past it. But I could never get over the idea that he had you first.” His hand tightens around my neck, stealing the air. “I waited so damn long for you, Ava. So damn long.” The mountains fade into the background, nothing but a blur as my lungs begin to starve while I try to keep calm, keep my pulse low. He keeps holding and holding, until I feel the life start to slip away, then he loosens and my lungs fill once more.
It’s a game we’ve played before. It’s a game he plays now.
“I’ve been lost to you since that day on the playground,” he says, tightening his hold again. “But I think the time I really got to hurting over you, was that time on the bus. Remember that? I was sitting in the back with Red, like always, when you walked on the bus that first day back at school. You must’ve been what, eleven, I think? And how you’d changed over the summer. I swear the breath emptied out of my lungs watching you walk down the aisle. You’d started combing your hair, and it hung down all silky around your shoulders, just like it does now. And you were wearing that peach dress, that was so worn out that when the morning sun came shining through the windows, it revealed the parts of you beneath. And I swear, Ava, a whimper left my mouth at the sight of you.”
His grip loosens, then he locks his fingers tight around me again and nuzzles my ear. “You were so damn beautiful,” he whispers, “with that pale hair and those shy, blue eyes, and you’re skin had turned all golden from summertime. You were still as small as a breath of fresh air, but you were starting to fill out, starting to become the woman you are now. And everybody else saw it too, didn’t they? All the boys with their mouths hanging open, and all those mean girls with the nasty looks. And I watched you look for a seat up front, knowing you didn’t want to be anywhere near me. But no one would let you sit next to them, would they? You had to walk to the back and slide into a seat just a couple up from where I was. I could see the little beads of sweat on your skin, not from the heat, but because I knew that’s what I did to you. And when you slid into that seat, I watched you press yourself tight against the side, trying to huddle yourself up, knowing I’d come for you. And I did, didn’t I? I couldn’t help myself around you. I could never help myself around you.”
He sighs and leans his head against mine and relaxes his hold, only to cinch it back up. “So I slid up in the seat behind you and hung my arms over the front, letting them dangle by your side. I could tell your breathing changed. Got short and tight. Almost like it is now, but that’s because I’m choking you. But back then, I can’t tell you how much I loved knowing I could affect you like that. I tried talking to you, but, like always, you just ignored me and kept staring out the window. But you still weren’t talking anyways then, were you? Nah, your parents had fucked you up good, by then. So I just hung out with you, smelled your hair, smelled you. That got me needing to be closer to you, so I got up and slid in the seat with you. That’s when you really tensed, wasn’t it? I put my arm around you, like I was making myself at home. I couldn’t help myself, Ava, I swear.”
His fingers slowly let go, then close back around me, my head feeling light and airy. “Then I tried talking to you again, even though I knew you wouldn’t answer. And when I leaned in and tried to touch your cheek, you jerked away. Remember that? That’s when I heard that little fucker laugh. Travis, I think. That was his name. It was like an explosion went off inside me. I was out of the seat and on
him—and I was getting big by then too. I got him wedged down on the floor and starting kicking the life out of him. I couldn’t stop. Red was at me, trying to pull me off, but I was like a lion on a carcass. And that’s when I heard it. Everyone heard it. Your voice. Like an angel. Saying, ‘Stop.’ Just barely a whisper, but I heard it. It cut through the haze and I turned around to see you standing in your seat, your little hands clutching the seat in front of you for balance. ‘Stop,’ you said again, so damn soft. It was the prettiest sound I’d ever heard. Once you knew I wasn’t lost on Travis anymore, you sat back down and got to staring out the window again, but I couldn’t do anything but just stand there, looking at you. Finally, I got myself to moving and came in close—so close to you—and I whispered, ‘About time you spoke.’ Remember that?”
My eyelids droop, and I wonder if I’ll pass out this time, but he opens his hand just enough for me to stay awake. “I could hear Travis crying, from the seat over, but all I heard was your voice, saying, ‘Stop,’ over and over again, like some record player that was skipping. I went and sat back down next to Red, laid my head back and closed my eyes, all the while hearing your soft, sweet voice, over and over, and thinking about one goddamn thing—how hard your nipples had been when you were standing. I swear, Ava, from then on, you were like this madness inside my head, I never could get past. I knew then, you would be mine. You would always be mine.
“And I had it all set up too, didn’t I? Then I waited. And waited. And waited. Then you went and did what you did.” He pauses, and my lungs go hungry again.
“But,” he says with a sigh. “I got you to marry me because of all that. And now I have your obedience too. It stings like a motherfucker—let me tell you what—knowing you obey me for him, but it gives me leverage, doesn’t it? Leverage I might of not had with just your ranch, or even those horses and that old man. But for him, you’ll do anything I ask.”
He keeps a hold of my neck, but gives me a breath to keep me conscious, then with his other hand, tugs up my shirt and reaches under to fondle my breast. “You’ll let me touch you.”
When my nipple hardens, he pinches it until I whimper. “Let me hurt you.”
He slides his hand down and shoves it between my legs. “Let me pleasure you.”
I gasp when he sinks his fingers inside me, while his other hand closes tight around my neck once more. The lingering hunger for a release is still there from earlier, but his words are too painful. I can’t get past it, making his pleasure so hard to take. But he keeps at it, moving back and forth inside me, then circling me in that place he knows so well.
“But that will change, Ava,” he says. “I know it will take some time, but I’m a patient man. Or at least I’ve learned to be. And eventually, you’ll do it for me. You’ll do everything for me. Won’t you, my little slave girl.”
I come on his hand, not because I want to, but because he knows how to make me do those things. He puts his fingers in my mouth and I lick them clean like I’m supposed to, his grip still making me dizzy.
He finally lets me go and air floods my lungs. “You’ll clean today. Supplies are under the sink. You can start with the come stain on the chair.”
When he leaves, I’m left staring at the mountains. They don’t look so beautiful anymore.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Ava
I used to like to clean. Even at my old house, when I got it all done up nice, and my father would get drunk and angry and destroy it all, I still liked getting it back nice again. I don’t know why. Maybe because that place was mine, or at least as mine as it could be. It was all I had then. Even those horses—as much as I loved them, they weren’t mine. And the Hanley’s, as much as they took care of me, they weren’t mine. But the house was. And the land was. My father didn’t care about those things, but I sure did.
But those things aren’t mine anymore.
Nothing’s mine.
When I get the bucket of cleaning supplies out and wipe down the chair, I find myself craving nothing but my dark little corner of the closet
He says this is my home, but it isn’t.
It’s not mine.
Nothing here’s mine.
But he said to clean, so I clean.
I finish the dining room, polishing up the dark oak farm table and sideboard, then move onto the kitchen, where I wipe down the sink, the rust granite counters and the stainless steel stove that’s set into a stone wall with a large copper hood. The fridge, freezer, and dishwasher have the same look as the cabinets, a dark rustic brown that ties in with the dining room set, and I wipe those down too, along with the built in double ovens and microwave. Above me, thick wood beams hover, looking down on me while I move onto the large island in the middle, covered in a thick dark butcher’s block, with a bunch of copper pots and pans hanging above it. There’s hardly anything on the counters, and the appliances look like they’ve never even been used, so it doesn’t take long to finish that part up. I find a dry-mop and a vacuum in a side closet, and start on the hardwood floors, which take a little longer, then vacuum the Navajo rug under the dining room table. When I’m done I look around, making sure I haven’t missed anything. I don’t like thinking this, but it’s a nice kitchen. It’s not the modern luxury like what Gavin had, but it’s still got that expensive feel to it. Only this is rustic, and strangely tasteful for a beast to call home.
I’m about to move on when I realize I hadn’t checked inside the fridge to see if it needs cleaning. When I open it, I step back and blink. I keep blinking, and blinking, at nothing but…bread. Six loaves of Roman Meal bread. That’s it. Nothing more. And when I open the matching freezer alongside, all I see is…Roman Meal bread. Loaves and loaves of it. That must mean—he’s been eating the same thing as me. I don’t know why that strikes me the way it does. I stand there for a bit, that strange feeling growing stronger inside me, then close the doors when I see it’s clean enough.
I leave the kitchen, feeling tired already. I’m not used to moving around like this, and I don’t have much meat on me for fuel. And my knees hurt. So I go slowly, trying to pace myself. The sunken living room looks barely touched, so doesn’t need much except some polishing of the large wooden chest of a coffee table and some end tables that butt up against the brown leather sofas that sit at an angle, facing the mountains through the windows, and a large flat screen on a side wall. In one of the corners is an enormous fireplace, built into the stone wall, with a thick wooden mantle across it, and above me is a large, striking, wrought iron chandelier, that I find myself staring at, wondering if the beast picked it out, or if a decorator did that. Seems strange, wondering something like that. So I move on, and again, it’s the wood flooring that takes up most of my time, and vacuuming the Navajo rugs that cover the floor in places.
I look around again, double checking I haven’t missed anything. Satisfied, I look at a hallway to my right, that leads to a room I know all too well, or a hallway to my left. I decide to go left, knowing I’ve been down this hallway before, a long time ago, but it’s better than going the other way. I pass the entryway to my left, with two massive wooden doors that lead to a world I wonder if I’ll ever see again, then reach an open door on my right and stop, frozen at the threshold. The beast sits behind a desk—a desk I’ve seen before—going through some papers. When he looks up, I blink, not recognizing the Shayne I grew up with. His face really has changed. I realize I’m staring at him, then look down in a panic.
I looked at him.
I looked at him.
My heart begins pounding in my ears and a sweat instantly breaks on my skin.
“Off-limits,” he says in his quiet voice.
I nod and leave in a hurry, my feet almost tripping over themselves to get away. Down the hall, I come across another door to a half-bath that I clean quickly, then onto a laundry room where I wipe things down. Beyond that, is another door that’s locked, that I think leads to the garage.
I go back and get the dry-mop and do a
hasty run-through of the hallway, looking down as I move past the open door, fast, fast, fast, but I still feel his eyes on me. I move through the living room to the other hallway. I have to stop a minute and let my breath settle, then look down both sides, seeing two doors to my left, and one to my right. I know what’s behind the first door on the left—the one with the big deadbolt, so head past that one, to the door at the end.
When I enter the room, the wind gets sucked from my lungs. It’s the master, where he first took me. I stare at the large bed, with the thick, black, iron box frame and the huge view of the mountains beyond. But I don’t see the view. Because I remember. I remember it all—how he took me, hurt me, then slid the ring on my finger while I slept.
Strange though, the bed looks no different than how it was left. It even still has the roughed up space from where he’d left me curled up. I let the memories go, knowing it won’t do me any good to linger, and walk to the large bathroom, the shiny browns and sparkling silvers a disturbing memory of when I first had to shower with that burn on my hip.
I clean the bathroom fast, tears making their way down my cheeks, tears I can’t seem to stop. But I keep moving. And just like everything else, it looks almost untouched, so doesn’t take long to clean. I vacuum quickly, and when I go to vacuum the walk-in closet, I stop in the doorway. It’s empty. Completely empty. I know there were clothes here once—because of that black tie—but not anymore. That’s when I realize, the beast doesn’t sleep here.
When I leave the room, my tears are just starting to dry. I move past the room with the deadbolt, then onto the next door at the other end of the hall. When I walk in, I’m struck hard with another memory from long ago, where I hugged a corner tight while the beast raged in the room next door.
The bed is bare, not even any sheets. I clean it all quickly, not letting myself get lost in the past, then leave the room and close the door.
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