Ava
The ride home is deathly quiet. I risk a glance over to Shayne, covered in blood, his face now swollen to the point he’s unrecognizable. Red had tried to get him to go to the hospital, or at least let him drive us home, but Shayne wouldn’t have it. He’d climbed into the dually, his eyes set dead ahead, and never once said a word. But I know the silence is only temporary. I know what’s coming.
I turn my head and stare out the window, losing myself in a sea of darkness, thinking of how I hurt Gavin, thinking of what he was ready and willing to do for me, without a care for what it would have done to him. Outwardly, I feel numb. All the pain’s still there from what Shayne did to me earlier, but it seems disconnected. Instead, it’s the pain inside that consumes me, ravages me.
I lost something tonight.
Not just Gavin, but a part of myself too.
Back at the house, I try to mentally prepare myself for what lies ahead as Shayne drags me down the hall once more. Only this time, he takes me to another door, opens it, and pushes me in just past the threshold. He holds me there, his hand clamped firmly at my nape. I’m confused for a moment, then he turns on the light, flooding the room in a golden haze. I blink, taking in the scene before me—a scene I wasn’t expecting. It’s a room, elegant and beautiful, with soft peach walls, a canopy bed, and a dark mahogany vanity topped with a staggering amount of jewelry. Off to the side, I see an open closet, filled with clothes and shoes—a full wardrobe. It’s a fairy tale room. A room fit for a princess.
I don’t understand, until his words come back to me.
I had a room set up for you. But until you’ve earned it…
A seed of guilt burrows deep inside me, but I swallow it down. I won’t let myself go there. Not after all he’s just done to me.
His body leans in close and his lips rake along my ear, as he whispers, “This is how it could’ve been.”
He hauls me backwards and drags me down the hall again, to another door that he opens and shoves me through, so hard, I fall to the floor.
“Leave this room, and I’ll kill you and everything you love,” he says, then slams the door.
I stagger to my feet, my eyes darting around. It takes me a moment to register that I must be in a guest room.
A moment later I hear a loud bang that sends me scurrying to a far corner, where I huddle up tight. More loud noises follow—things crashing, things breaking. It sounds like someone’s tearing the house apart, but I know the sounds are coming from the room next door. From the room he made for me—the room he’s now destroying. The beast roars, again and again, shouts of rage that blast through the walls, followed by more crashing, more breaking, more pounding. It sounds like I’m in hell. Pure hell.
I clamp my hands over my ears as the relentless thrashing goes on and on, and I think perhaps I should be grateful I’m not bearing the brunt of his wrath, but I know that will change. It’s only a matter of time.
My eyes feel heavy, my body weary. I shut my eyes tight and the image of Gavin appears, walking away, forever. A sob leaps from my throat and I keel over onto my side, and curl up into a ball and begin to cry. I cry so hard and for so long, that eventually, I fall asleep.
I wake with a start the next day to more noises coming from next door. Only this time, different noises. Drills. Saws. Hammers. I try not to think about what he might be doing and instead try to stretch my legs out. Pain stabs at my hip, but it’s nothing to the pain I feel inside.
Slowly, I get to my feet, still wearing my white, blood stained dress, my body sore and cramped from sleeping on the floor. Waking sunlight streams in through the window, and it’s only then that I finally take in the room. Taupe colored walls, more wood rafters, and a queen-size bed with a maroon comforter that matches the carpet. There’s a dresser too, with matching dark wood nightstands. It doesn’t look like hell, but it feels like it.
I walk slowly to the bathroom, up to the dark vanity, and look at my reflection in the mirror. I look like one of those ruined brides you might find in a horror movie. My dress isn’t bridal, but it’s white, with streaks of dried blood everywhere. Mine and Gavin’s, and probably some of Shayne’s. My hair’s a mess, my eyes red and swollen, and I even have some smears of blood along my face.
I look down at the ring on my finger, and my eyes fill with tears.
I look away.
I need a shower.
I know it will hurt, but I need to wash away what I can.
I do my best to keep the water off the brand, but it finds its way there anyway. I crumple against the wall, but I grit my teeth and manage to get through it.
After I’m out, I spend some time cleaning the dress, turning what’s red to pink, then put it back on, because there’s nothing else to wear.
Back in the bedroom, I see a loaf of Roman Meal bread lying by the door, and know that’s my food for a while.
Twelve days end up passing, with no further sign of him, except for the occasional sounds of construction from next door, like he’s building something. Something I don’t want to think about.
During that time, I cry and sleep, occasionally nibbling at bread and sipping water from the faucet.
Sometimes I sit and stare out the window, losing myself in the hills beyond, or watching the horses that graze in the field off to the side. There are a couple bays, a chestnut, a black, and a grey. Some days, the bays and the chestnut get taken out by the guys to go to work, other times they all get to spend the day grazing. I never see Shayne out there. Only Red and the other two.
Sometimes I pretend I’m back in the pasture with my friends, feeding them carrots or riding Sadie through the countryside. Other times I think of Ben, wondering what he’s up to, wondering if his tractor is giving him a hard time. I think of my ranch—or what used to be my ranch—of the mustard that will probably be sprouting up not too long from now, and the little creek that’s probably running since we’ve had some rain. I even think of my father a little, wondering if he’s finally found some happiness. I don’t think of my mother.
Then there are times I think of my books, of all the other worlds I once escaped to, wishing I could escape to those places again, but knowing I probably won’t ever see those books again. At least not those copies.
It rains a couple times, gets cold, but mainly the sun is out, like always in Southern California, shining bright like nothing bad is happening, like my world hasn’t just been taken from me.
And through it all, every waking second, and even in my sleep, Gavin is in my mind, constantly. His green eyes, his scent, the sound of his voice, the way his touch felt along my skin. I’ve relived that night with him a thousand times, cherishing every detail, every memory. When I curl up in bed, I cry myself to sleep with him there, next to me in my mind, trying so hard not to think about how I hurt him, how he looked walking away. Instead, I try to hold onto the good, to the laughter we shared, the desire we fed. I knew my time with him would be my lifeline, knowing things would get dark, and it has been. I just never expected things would go the way they did. But I know full well I’ve only had a glimpse of the darkness that will come for me. My time in this room is only the calm before the storm.
It’s just a matter of time.
The storm arrives late the following night. I’m sleeping, dreaming of Gavin, when the covers disappear and rough hands tear my clothes off and yank me from the bed.
I’m shaking so hard I can barely support myself as he drags me from the room and down the darkened hall to the next door. A door I’ve been through before. A door that now has a large deadbolt above the latch. He opens it and tosses me inside, where I fall hard on a rough cement floor.
A single, dim light bulb hangs from above, exposing the room in a creepy, brooding light. When I look around, my pulse spikes and my eyes grow wide. Now I know what he’s been building.
Gone is the princess room. Instead, now there’s another room. A dark grey room that begins to spin around me. A dog crate I’ve seen before sits in the corner. Next to it is a chain with shackles that hangs from the ceiling. Against the wall is a bare mattress atop a black iron bed frame, with bindings attached to all four corners. Against the other wall is a large thick metal X, with more bindings. Near me is a wire mesh cage, the size of a large armoire, filled with whips and rods and so many other things I can’t seem to focus on because my vision begins to blur. Around me the prison walls spin faster and faster. I see a couple doorways, but both doors are gone now. One I know must be the bathroom, the other is to a closet I know once held clothes, but now sits empty. Where there was once a window, now there’s a thick sheet of plywood painted black, sealing me off completely from the rest of the world.
No.
No.
This—this—can’t—
Shayne’s cold voice shatters the silence. “Welcome to your new home, Ava.”
I whirl around, only to catch a glimpse of his looming shadow in the doorway as he tosses in another loaf of bread, then slams the door and locks me in. My screams ricochet across the prison walls as I stagger towards the door and pound my fists over and over, until my knees gave way and I slide to the floor.
Everywhere I look, the horror grows, sending bile into my throat. I barely manage to get myself to the bathroom before I throw up. I hurl until there’s nothing left, until I’m curled up on the cold stone floor, shaking and sobbing. Eventually, I struggle to my hands and knees and make it to my feet. I ignore the naked, terrified girl in the mirror and stumble back into the room. I stare at the mattress with exhausted eyes, but can’t bring myself to lie there, remembering how he snuck up on me in the other bed. Instead, I limp to the closet. It’s dark inside, and empty, like me. I crouch down and curl up in the far corner and close my eyes tight, shutting the madness out while I hug my knees to my chest. I imagine Gavin’s arms around me—imagine he holds me while I rock back and forth. That’s when a small voice begins whispering in my head. It’s my voice, but it’s so soft I can barely hear it. But it’s there, whispering the same words, over and over.
He won’t break me.
He will never break me.