“So, before we all get to comfortable,” Matilda pipes up. “Some ground rules need to be laid down about this spa.”

We all look to her.

“Firstly,” she begins. “Absolutely no genital touching.”

I snort a laugh, and everyone looks to me. “Sorry.” I giggle. “Got it. No genital touching.”

“We’re all sharing the same water here, and I know for one, I do not want to be swimming in someone’s ...” Her face screws up. “Ick.”

“Next rule,” Diesel mutters and Mercy giggles in his lap.

“No spoofing.”

Roman grunts and Molly bursts out laughing. “I see our word has rubbed off on her,” Molly says to him.

“This is no laughing matter,” Matilda says, wiggling her finger in Molly’s face. “I do not want to have to explain how I somehow got impregnated by Roman’s sperm, or worse, someone else’s.”

Jack chuckles. “Pretty sure you’re safe.”

“It’s a fact,” she says to him. “If you spoof in the water, it can crawl into someone else and bam, pregnant.”

I’m laughing so hard now I can’t stop my body from shaking.

“Okay,” Quinn wheezes. “We’ll keep our junk, in our trunk ...”

“Yes, indeed you will,” Matilda wiggles a finger at him. “Now, rule number three ...”

Everyone groans.

“Look, I think if there is no genital touching, and no spoofing, I’m fairly certain we’ll be safe,” Phoenix points out.

“No peeing,” Matilda goes on, as if she didn’t hear him. “We’re drinking, the urge to urinate comes frequently. You get your sorry asses out and pee in the toilet, you do not let one slip in here.”

I can’t breathe.

I can’t.

Seriously.

So funny.

Jack squeezes my leg again through his laughter.

“I think we’ve got the general fact that absolutely no bodily fluids are to be released into the water,” Roman says, between his laughter.

“Good,” Matilda says, nodding. “Now, carry on, everyone.”

We all settle down from our laughing, when a squeal escapes her mouth and she turns, giving TJ the death stare. “TJ. I said no. No genital touching. Didn’t you hear me?”

“Oh, sweet fuckin’ Jesus,” Diesel mutters.

“Good lord, man has some balls.” Phoenix laughs.

TJ goes a pretty shade of red and gives Matilda a look, but she completely ignores it. “No. Touching,” she informs him again, before focusing back on her drink.

I’m laughing again.

Yes.

Happy.

 

 

CHAPTER 23

THEN – MADDIE

I can’t do this anymore.

I can’t.

I need to get out. I need to run.

I want to stay. To fight. But I don’t think there is anything left. Rae is so far gone. She’s spending more time away, hiding and doing drugs than she is at home. How am I supposed to help her? She refuses to even look at me, let alone come with me. I’ve got nothing left. I’m here, living in this hell, but I just can’t do it anymore.

He’s going to be the death of me, and for what?

I don’t love him.

I hate him.

I despise him.

Monster.

“I fuckin’ asked you to make me a sandwich.”

I’m standing in the kitchen, staring down at the butcher knife I had been cleaning to make him his sandwich. I wonder if I stabbed him, would I be the one at fault? Would they favour me? Would they let me go? I mean, they’d only have to look at the bruises on my face, on my arms, on my legs, and on my body to see what he does to me. They’d just need to take one look.

Would it be justified?

No.

No.

That makes me a monster, and I’ll never, not ever, be a monster.

“I’m getting it,” I say, my voice weak and broken. “I was just cleaning the knife.”

“Hurry up!” he barks.

I turn, placing the knife down as I gather the ingredients for a sandwich. Turkey. Swiss. No butter. Mayonnaise. It’s the same every day. It’s the only thing he eats now, so it’s the only thing I buy. I pull some bread out, lay it on the counter, and start assembling the sandwich.

A hand slams down on the counter. “Are you intentionally being fucking slow?”

“No,” I snap.

I don’t think about it.

It just comes out.

I keep my mouth shut at all times, but I feel worn down and broken, and my words came out before I could think them through. My head jerks up, and I meet his eyes, and I know, I know I’ve just raised an angry bear. He storms around the counter, and I stumble backwards, dropping the knife. I try to move out of his way, but there’s no use.

He’ll catch me.

He’ll always catch me.

Fingers curl into my hair and he tugs my head back so brutally I can feel the strands being torn from my scalp.

“What did you just fuckin’ say?”

“I’m sorry,” I plead. “I didn’t mean it. I’m just tired. I’ll make your sandwich right away and—”

Thump.

His fist connects with my face, his fingers let go of my hair, and I drop to the ground, a familiar pain radiating through my skull. It used to hurt so badly, now it just feels numb. I don’t cry anymore. I just stare at the floor, head hung low. A boot connects with my ribs, then his angry voice hisses, “Get up and finish that. Right fucking now.”

I push to my feet, keeping my eyes to the ground.

I want to hurt him. Every single piece of me wants to hurt him. I want to give him just a glimpse of what he makes me feel every single day.

For one second, I want him to scream in pain. I want him to be powerless. I want him to have nothing. I just want him to suffer. For one moment, I just want it to hurt like hell.

I can’t do this anymore.

I can’t try and save anyone.

No, the time has come.

I have to save myself.

I have to run.

~*~*~*~

Run.

Run as fast as you can.

Don’t look back.

No matter what. Do not look back.

My feet pound the pavement as I charge towards the trees, the thick, brutal looking trees. Even those trees are heaven sent. Their branches will tear the skin from my arms, their trunks will trip me, they will scratch and scrape me, but even then, what they’re offering is so much more than what’s coming behind me.