Chapter 13 #2
She puts the phone to her ear. “He’s not going to stop, Shane!” she chokes out, tears welling up in her eyes. “It's not my fault, whatever’s wrong with him. He’s eighteen; the police need to deal with him.”
Shane moves quickly, wrestling the phone off her and ending the call before it can connect. “We don’t need to call the police. Come on, Mum, I won’t let him do anything. Let me talk to him, find out what’s going on.”
She looks up at him, face red with frustration, then back to me. Her blue eyes turn dark, and I see no love in them at all. The last threads of her maternal instincts fraying until they snap completely. “I want him out of my house,” she spits.
“Here,” Shane says, pulling a clear zip bag from his pocket. He hands her a pill, and she takes it quickly, lying back on the sofa. She throws an arm over her eyes and mutters, “Get out.”
Shane grabs my arm in a vice-like grip. “It’s been too long, little mouse. I think you’re due a reminder of why you should behave.”
After dragging me up the stairs, Shane nudges me toward the bed. “On your stomach.”
I hear the bedroom door lock, and ice-cold tendrils wrap around my body.
Tears well up in my eyes as I wonder how I let myself get here.
My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth, and I force my heavy legs to move.
I don’t know how long those animals have been in the treehouse; I’m sure I haven’t had a blackout since living with Teddy.
He hasn’t mentioned me disappearing or doing anything out of the ordinary.
I’ve been stuck to his side twenty-four-seven.
I swallow down the bile as it creeps up. I thought I’d been good since moving out. That being away from here made me better.
“Shirt off,” Shane says calmly.
My hands shake as I pull my T-shirt over my head and let it drop to the floor. Over the years, I’ve learnt that if I behave then this will all be over quicker. I lie on the bed and bury my face in my duvet so Shane can’t see the tears streaming down my face.
“Do you understand why you need this?” he asks. A hand brushes over my lower back and I flinch. Even though my scars have long since healed, the phantom pain cuts through me all the same.
I nod my head twice.
“I think you need an extra punishment this time.” The bed shifts and Shane straddles my thighs, pinning me in place as he leans across my back.
His breath is hot against my ear as he says, “You shouldn’t have left me, little mouse.
” Then he grabs my wrist and fastens a rope around it, attaching the other end to the headboard.
I let out a startled cry. He hasn’t had to tie me down in years; I don’t need it—I’ll stay still and be good! I open my mouth to tell him no, but my throat tightens, making it impossible. He grabs my other hand, and the only thing that comes out of my mouth is a whimper.
“You need this, Bailey. It’s going to be so much worse this time, but it’s for your own good. You need to feel the pain you caused those defenceless animals, don’t you? It’s the only way to get you to stop—at least for a little while.”
I pull on the restraints, but they don’t budge. Between them and the weight of him pinning me down, the fight starts to bleed out of me. I’m breathing so hard and fast that I feel light-headed.
“Do you think Theo cares about you the way I do? That he would stay if he knew what you were capable of? He wouldn’t know how to manage your episodes.” Shane pushes, sowing that seed of doubt I’d tried so hard not to let take root.
I hear the flick of a lighter and flinch, pressing deeper into the mattress.
“What do you think will happen if you leave me? If there’s no one to keep you under control? What happens when animals aren’t enough and you want to hurt someone?” He leans closer, whispering. “What if you hurt Theo?”
The moment the cigarette touches the bare skin of my lower back, I slam my eyes shut and suck in a breath.
It never used to be like this. When we were much younger, he would try pinching, or stabbing with drawing pins.
Holding teaspoons over candles and pressing them to my skin.
Anything he could think of to show how those animals had suffered because of me.
When we were fourteen, he tried using cigarettes for the first time.
It would work for a while. For a few months I’d be good.
No blackouts. No dead animals. No punishments.
I lose track of time. My face is stuck to the sheets from a mix of tears, snot and drool, body devoid of any feeling except for the blistering heat on my back.
Shane climbs off of me, and I hear him throw the empty cigarette packet in the bin.
My body shakes from the pain and adrenaline.
I try to draw in a deep breath but it’s hard with the thick smoke lingering in the room, bitter and acrid.
Thankfully, Shane opens the window to let in fresh air.
“That was punishment number one,” he says.
I can barely turn my head to look at him as the movement pulls at the burnt skin.
“Now for punishment two,” he says, flicking open a small knife.
“No,” I rasp out as I pull on the restraints again, ignoring the pain rippling across my back.
Shane places a hand on my ribs. “Just a little something to remind you of who will always be there for you, even when everyone else turns their backs,” he mutters.
White-hot pain sears against my side as he pushes the knife into me. It doesn’t go too deep, but after the first slice, my body gives out, except for the occasional involuntary flinch. I can’t stop the whimper that escapes me when I realise I won’t be going home to Teddy tonight.
Teddy
Hey, just got home, I thought you were meeting me at the coffee shop?
I should be grateful Shane left me with my phone and untied my wrists, but that’s no use to me when I have no idea what I should tell Teddy.
This was all my fault. I chose to get my mum from the hospital.
I chose to come into this house again, after swearing I wouldn’t.
And I chose to hurt those animals. I deserved the punishment.
And now I have to wait until my injuries heal before I can see Teddy again.
If I see Teddy again.
I know I shouldn’t. Shane is right; if Teddy ever found out about this, he’d never talk to me again. He’d probably call the police, just like Mum wanted to do, and if I go back and keep silent about it, then one day it might be him I end up hurting.
I sniffle at the thought, eyes and nose burning from holding back tears.
I don’t want to deal with that yet. Ignoring the text, I slowly peel myself off the bed and limp over to the mirror.
A sob breaks free, and my vision blurs through tears as I look at the amount of cigarette burns on my back, red-raw where the skin’s peeled off, blisters oozing. I gag at the sight of it.
He’s ruined me.
Something else catches my eye. Just under my arm, across my ribs, is the evidence of my second punishment.
Jesus Christ ...
My breathing speeds up as I watch a trickle of blood run down from the jagged ‘S’ he’s carved into me. I turn away sharply, unable to look at myself anymore.
I lay back on the bed, and grab my phone.
Me
My mum was in the hospital and I had to take her home. I need to stay here for a while
Teddy
Shit, is she okay? Do you know how long you’ll be there?
Me
I’m not sure. A few weeks maybe
Teddy
What? Send me the address and I’ll come stay with you there
Prickles burst along my head and fingertips as fear spikes through me.
I don’t want him anywhere near this house, or my family—but fuck, I need him so bad.
I swipe the tears from my cheeks and smack my hand against my head several times, getting frustrated with myself because I know—I fucking know I’m not going to be able to let him go.
After all this, I still see Teddy as my safety.
I just need time for my back to heal, and then I’m going straight back to him, because I’m too weak to stay away.
Me
No, it’s just a few weeks, I need to try and fix things between me and my mum before we leave for Scotland.
I don’t like lying to Teddy. There’s no making amends with my mother.
Teddy
Fine. I’m not happy about it though. They haven’t given a single fuck about how you’ve been doing since you moved out. But it’s your choice. Video call me tomorrow?
Me
Okay. Night, Teddy
Teddy
Night, mo leannan
I jump awake at the sound of my bedroom door opening, gasping in pain as the skin pulls taut on my back. My hand closes tight around my phone, and I slide it under the pillow, so that whoever comes in doesn’t take it away. I must have fallen asleep straight after texting Teddy.
“Hey baby boy, what happened?”
The sound of my stepdad's soft voice brings my anxiety back tenfold. At least with Shane, I know what to expect. There’s a mutual understanding that it’s something that needs to be done. But with Dean, I’m instantly on edge, my muscles tensing in anticipation.
My skin feels so tight around the burns. Every movement pulls on them, threatening to burst the blisters. I can’t risk infection if I want to get back to Teddy. So I lay still.
“Shane really did a number on you.” Dean’s finger brushes against my hip, and I flinch at the contact. He avoids the burns, but pain shoots through me all the same. He hushes me and strokes my hair. “It’s alright, I’ll clean you up now.”
Shortly after Shane switched to cigarettes, Dean found out what was going on.
He came home early one day and found me on my bedroom floor, passed out, hot and sticky from a fever.
He injected me with something, and when I woke up feeling better, he was hovering over my bed, stroking my cheek.
I couldn’t speak. Just laid there in silence.
Since then, Dean lingers whenever Shane hurts me.
He tells me that he’ll help keep my burns clean from infection, and that we can leave Mum and Shane out of it. That it will be just our little secret.
There’s a familiar sound as the first aid kit clicks open, and I jump when the cold antiseptic cream touches my raw skin. It hurts like hell, yet soothes at the same time. A sigh of relief escapes my lips before I can stop it.
“That’s it, you’ll feel better soon,” he coos as he massages the cream into my hips. I feel him pause before saying, “This is new,” as he rubs the cream over the cut on my ribs.
The first aid kit is closed back up, and I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping that’s it.
He’ll leave the room and let me rest. But he grabs my waistband, pulling my joggers down slowly, exposing too much of my body.
“Everything feels better once I fix you up, doesn’t it?
” He strokes a hand over my arse cheek. “You’re going to stay quiet for me, aren’t you, baby boy?
You wouldn’t want anyone to find out why you let your brother hurt you, would you? ”
I thread my fingers through my hair, tugging so hard it stings my scalp.
I’m exhausted and in so much pain, I don’t have the energy to push him away.
Don’t have the voice to tell him no. I try to tell myself that it’ll be over quickly—he usually just caresses me a bit and then covers me back up.
It will only be a couple of minutes, and then he’ll be gone.
Except this time, as he starts to touch me, his fingers slip between my crease, and I feel them brush against my hole. My body freezes up again, and I’m panting for air, squeezing my eyes shut, begging for my mind to black this out.