2 weeks later
I WALK INTO my room. Maiya has her eyes open, and she looks quite alert.
‘Hey, you’re awake. Must have seen my fine arse coming huh?’
She rolls her eyes but gives me nothing. Jeez, I wish she’d cut me some fucking slack. I’ve been stuck here while every other motherfucking windbag got to go out hunting, and I get this chick dumped in my lap. Well, not literally, but she’s taken over my fucking bed and isn’t even being nice about it. Meanwhile, I have a crick in my ass, and my muscles ache like a bitch from sleeping in the fucking chair in the corner or on the floor. And this is the thanks I get. A look that could turn a man to stone. I laugh at my own reference to Medusa because the way she looks right now, her hair all matted and shit, it’s not a bad likeness. But I don’t think anyone would be happy with that reference, so I keep my mouth firmly shut. I still get a deadly look from her though—like she wishes she could shoot laser beams from her eyes and kill me dead.
‘So you wanna watch a film? Read a book? Tell me a story? I’m a gentleman, so I’ll let you choose?’ She turns her head away from me, but just before she does, I see the flicker of annoyance in her eyes. I’m working my way in though because a couple of weeks ago she wouldn’t even open her eyes when I spoke to her. So we’re slowing moving forward.
‘I gotta say, I don’t just give up my bed to any random woman, so I hope you know how privileged you are,’ I joke, but as soon as the words leave my mouth, I know I shouldn’t have said it. But I have, and it is there in the air between us. She makes a strangled garbled kind of sound in her throat. I wait for a beat to see if she’s going to speak, but she doesn’t. So I just turn on the television and don’t say a whole lot more. I can’t deal with this shit much longer. They’ll either have to let her go or give her a different room. I make a mental note to speak to Jared about it in the morning. Nah, actually, fuck it, why should he have a good fucking time in his room while I’m stuck with this ungrateful bitch every night, and nowhere to sleep. I can’t even wank without worrying I’ll wake her up. Nah, fuck this.
*Hey, dickhead. You having a nice kip?* I text him. The reply is almost instant.
* Was… wtf you want?* I knew he’d snap.
*How about a nice bed to sleep in and maybe my fucking room back?* It’s not a lot to ask really.
*Are you telling me you haven’t tapped that yet?* Fucking like to see anyone try and tap that.
*The fuck I have. She’d kill my arse with one look.* I reply
*You have a king—she’s small, deal with it.* For fuck’s sake.
*Howard has a king. So does every other fucker in this house. Why me?* I ask
*I’m sleeping*
*No, you’re not!* Fucker.
*I’m gonna come and get in your bed. See how you like sharing.*
I knew that would piss him off. Ha, I wait a beat of a second and my phone rings. I swipe the screen and answer the call, flicking the television off as I do.
‘Come anywhere near my fucking bed, and I’ll kill your ass. You feel me?’ he whisper-shouts down the phone. Devon must be asleep.
‘I’m only small, deal with it.’ I laugh throwing his words back at him.
‘Fuck you, Brad, seriously. Why the fuck, you waking me up with this shit? What’s the problem?’
I sigh. I’m being a prick. I know it, but I’m fucking tired, and I hate not getting sleep. ‘I’m tired, and this chick’s taken over my room.’
‘You fucking took her there. No one asked you to. You could have put her anywhere.’
‘You told me I had to babysit her. Watch her all the time. How can I do that if she’s somewhere else?’
‘Exactly. You’ve answered your own question. Now fuck off and let me get some sleep.’
That fucker played me right into that one. I curse as I throw the phone onto the table. It makes a clanging noise, making the princess in my bed jump and lift her head. I walk over to the other side of the bed and start to strip down to my boxers.
‘What are you doing?’ she screeches and starts throwing her arms and legs about.
‘Calm the fuck down. I’m just getting in the bed. I need some sleep, and the floor isn’t doing me any favours.’ I slide the covers back, and I get in. She scoots as far away as she can and looks at me like I just killed her pet gerbil. And it pisses me off.
‘For fuck’s sake, don’t flatter yourself. I want the bed, not you.’ She gasps like I just slapped her. I turn on my side and try to forget she’s there. She doesn’t relax, and I can feel her shaking. I feel like an asshole now, but if I try and make it right, she’ll just think I’m being smooth and trying to get in her knickers. So I ignore it. And fall to sleep.
I wake up to screaming, and it takes me a minute to orient myself. I soon realise it’s Maiya, she’s flailing her arms and legs, and she’s screaming and yelling for someone to let her fucking go. I smell blood, so I fling the covers back. ‘Fuck,’ I mutter. She’s in a deep sleep, but she’s thrown her arms about that much she’s made herself bleed. I run to the bathroom and get a wet cloth. She’s moaning and still fighting against me as I do my best to clean her up.
‘No,’ she screams. ‘Please, no more. Please, not again.’ Then she quietens down before she starts grunting. She’s curling herself in a ball like someone is wailing on her. Then she starts sobbing. I try to wake her, but she won’t come around. She’s screaming for whatever is happening to her to stop—begging for it to end. Her legs open wide, and she goes still, her head to one side. I realise what it is she’s reliving, and I feel fucking sick. I back off, moving into the bathroom. I can still hear her whimpering on the bed. I need to put a fucking stop to this. I march back over and shake her. I shake her so fucking hard because I can’t bear to watch—to listen to another fucking minute of it. I feel her fingers tighten around my arms as I shake her awake.
‘Get the fuck off me.’ She finally opens her eyes and looks at me. The shock and fear I see in her face makes my stomach roll. I pull away and just stand at the side of the bed as she pulls the covers up and under her chin. Tears fill her eyes, and it's then, when she looks so vulnerable, that I realise how beautiful she really is. Her eyes—that normally look at me like she wants to kill me—are actually fucking beautiful, so big and blue. I can’t speak for a second. I have to shake myself and get my brain ticking.
‘You were having a bad dream,’ I tell her. She nods, ‘I’ve been trying to wake you for a while, but you wouldn’t wake up, I’m sorry if I scared you.’ And I meant it. I’m really fucking sorry if I caused her to relive that shit. I gather my jeans from the floor and pull them on. As I pull my tee over my head, I walk over to the chair and try to get comfortable. It's fucking impossible, but I can’t get back in the bed if that’s what happens. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have been such a dickhead. I watch her through a small slit in my eye, as I’m pretending to go to sleep. She’s hunched against the headboard with her knees tucked under her chin. She’s as scared as shit, and I can’t help but feel sorry for her. Right there, I promise not to be such a dick to her. She has been through some fucking awful shit. That much I knew because of her scars, but there was clearly stuff that I didn’t know. And it was that shit that had left the deepest scars of all.