Javi tugs me down the hall.

In a matter of seconds, everything has shifted. He is dragging me back to the past. Back to the room of horrors. The room where his mother carved him up. Where he carved me up. Where everything is bad between us and nothing is good.

This isn't where I want to go. But he asked me to prove myself. And I will. I will prove that it doesn't matter what he does to me.

He will see.

In the end, he will see that I am truthful. That I do love him. And my love for him is stronger than his rage. Stronger than his hurt and his fear and his vulnerability. I will break through those barriers if it's the last thing I do.

So when he straps me down to the table, I do not resist. I remain silent, even as he stuffs my mouth with another gag and takes away every last shred of free will that remains in me.

I do not cry. Even when he leaves the room. I do not feel ashamed when he comes to me the next morning and fucks my mouth and comes on my face.

I do not feel dirty when he comes back again at night and fucks me in the ass and comes on me again. I do not resist when he makes me pee in front of him and then restrains me once more.

I do not protest that my stomach is hungry and I have not eaten or showered. And I do not feel sorry that he has turned me into a feral animal all over again. Coming and going as he pleases throughout the day, using me like a toy. Covering me in his come and then leaving it to dry. Calling me names while he fucks me. Lashing out and insisting that I will tell the truth soon enough. That I will break.

But he is wrong. And it infuriates him that he is wrong. Because I do not break. Not even by the fourth day when I am truly disgusting.

He does not fuck me again on this fourth day. Instead, he releases me and tells me to go clean myself up.

He is too calm. Too silent. And I know something is not right. I expect the worst, the entire time I'm in the shower, scrubbing myself clean. Even when he tells me to get something to eat, I cannot. It only compounds my fear.

He goes back to his office. The house is too quiet. But the storm that's brewing is loud. I can feel it. I can feel it in my bones. Something awful is about to happen.

I saw it in his eyes.

The chill. The conviction. He intends to break me. Just as he always said he would do. He said he would destroy me. It's what he set out to do. And perhaps I have been a fool to think that he has changed, even after everything. Perhaps I am the only one who feels.

I don't have to wonder long. Because at nightfall, the bell on the door chimes again.

I expect River. It's always River. Never anyone else. Nobody else comes to Moldavia.

Nobody.

But it is not River at the door tonight. The scent of her perfume assaults me first. And then I see her in all her beauty, standing coyly on the threshold when Javi greets her.

This place is familiar to this woman. Javi is familiar to this woman. There is no doubt, she has had him before.

He gestures her inside, and I rot on the inside. Agony paralyzes me as he leads her down the hall to his bedroom. There is no second thought about me.

The door shuts with a resounding noise. My gut churns. My heart shrivels up and dies. And I was wrong. So, so wrong. Because Javi can still break me. He can still destroy me. He's done exactly that.

At first, I am immobile. Unable to move or blink or even breathe. And then the restlessness takes over.

I pace back and forth in the kitchen, frantic. Sick. My fingers quake and my head spins. I want to vomit. I want to scream. There are no tears. There is no sadness. I am captive to only one thing now.

Undiluted rage.

Hatred that burns so bright, I fear it will never be extinguished again. I can't control it. I can't deny it. The animal in me has taken the wheel.

The animal in me is the one who grabs a knife from the wooden block on the counter. The animal in me is the one who walks down the corridor and heaves open his bedroom door, expecting the worst. Poised to kill. Poised to kill them both.

But the woman in me sees only Javi, resting in a chair by the fire with a glass of whiskey in hand.

My eyes scan the room, seeking to destroy. But she is not here. She is not anywhere. The animal doesn't care. She wants retribution, and she will have it.

When Javi dares to look at me, I lunge for him, striking out at his chest. He grabs hold of my arm and halts the blade mid-swing.

"What's the matter, pet?" he taunts.

"I hate you!" I scream.

I try to thrust the knife again. This time he doesn't stop me, and it glances off his chest.

He's bleeding.

But it isn't enough. Not when I see the cruel laughter in his eyes. The way he mocks me with his lips.

"I thought you loved me," he sneers. "That's what you said. You said you would do anything. Anything to prove it."

"Not that," I cry.

And the tears are real now. Pain. So much pain. I feel like I've been punched in the heart.

"Where is she?" I demand. "Who is she?"

Javi snatches me by the throat and looks deep into my eyes. There was a time when my tears turned him on. A time when he liked to collect them like sweet memories. But now, they disgust him.

I disgust him. With my feelings and my humanity and my love.

"You never loved me," he snarls.

"Fuck you," I choke out.

He smiles. And it scares me more than any of his other smiles. Because there is nothing behind it. He is dead. He is without anything now.

I don't know how it came to this. How everything changed so abruptly. Even as he drags me to the bed and tears off my clothes, I want to believe that there is hope. I want to believe all is not lost.

This is just another temporary bout of insanity. But I should know by now. Everything Javi does leaves a permanent scar.

He unbuttons his jeans and thrusts inside of me without warning.

"Fucking liar," he chants.

"You're the liar!" I scream. "You're pathetic. You can't even admit your own feelings. You can't even admit that you care for me."

It's the wrong thing to say.

He stops. And dread fills my stomach. I try to look back at him, but he presses my face into the bed. Then he takes his cock out and nudges it against my ass.

I bite my lip to keep from crying out when he shoves inside. Now he wants my tears for a whole different reason. To punish me. But I won't give him the satisfaction. I won't let him see my pain. Not anymore.

My strength only enrages him further as he grabs me by the hair and yanks.

"You are nothing," he tells me. "Nothing!"

To further prove his point, he reaches for a pillow and frees it from the case. And then he wraps the case over my head, so he doesn't have to look at me.

He fucks me raw. Hard. Brutal. Neither one of us says a word.

I cry silent tears behind the veil of the pillowcase, and he grunts out his frustrations before finishing inside of me. And when he is done, he pushes me away with one final parting blow.

"Nothing."