Chapter 11 Aurora
AURORA
Liam doesn’t return, and after our last interaction, I’m glad he hasn’t.
Lifting my hand, I touch the tender spot on my neck.
The first time I went to the bathroom, I noticed the slight bruising on my skin.
Since then, I’ve been avoiding looking in the mirror since I don’t want to be reminded of what happened.
I should be used to being manhandled and physically abused; the proof of that is all over my back.
I guess I just wasn’t expecting it from him, not after last night.
Not after the way he made me feel, or the way he held me while we slept.
I hate how na?ve I was, how quickly I let my guard down, and misread the situation.
I thought we had a moment. I was very wrong.
Without anything to do or entertain myself, I sit on the bed with nothing but my thoughts.
The only time my everlasting boredom is interrupted is when Maggie unlocks the door to bring me meals.
She didn’t talk to me either of the times she was here.
Only gave me a curt nod when I thanked her for my food.
Even though I have little appetite, I force myself to eat breakfast and lunch.
I need to keep my strength up, and though I have been eating regularly so far, I’m also aware of how I rely on others to feed me.
I remind myself that Liam is unpredictable, and I wouldn’t put it past him to withhold my basic needs if it suits him, just like my father used to.
The reminder of my dad brings up mixed feelings.
I don’t really miss him, but I guess mourn the faint chance I had that our relationship would better itself at some point.
I miss the familiarity of the only person who has been a constant in my life, no matter how cruel he was. I grieve what could have been.
The sun is setting, and the room turns gloomy.
Reaching for the lamp on the nightstand, I switch on the light just as the sound of the lock turning fills the otherwise quiet space.
My heart rate speeds up; a mixture of excitement and dread fills my veins.
Excitement about having a tiny bit of human interaction.
Dread about not knowing whether I’m about to face Maggie or Liam.
The door swings open, and my shoulders sag with relief when I see Maggie carrying in a tray.
Folding my hands in my lap, I sit up a little straighter and force a smile onto my lips.
Maggie crosses the room and hands me the tray.
I lower my gaze to the plate filled with steaming meat, potatoes, and broccoli.
But the delicious-looking food is not what makes me gasp in joy.
It’s the small stack of paperbacks beside the plate.
“Oh my god, thank you so much!” I’m so happy, I have the urge to jump up and hug her. “Seriously, I can’t thank you enough for these. I feel like I’m going crazy with nothing to do all day.”
“I figured as much,” she says with a kind smile. “I wasn’t sure what kind of books you preferred, but these are some of my personal favorites.”
“At this point, I will literally read anything. Again, thank you so much, Maggie.”
“No problem. Enjoy,” she chirps, before leaving the room once more.
Her small gesture of kindness is almost overwhelming, and I wish she would stay to spend some more time with me, but I’m beyond happy to have at least something to do now.
As I pull the tray onto my lap and start eating, I wonder if Liam knows about the books or if Maggie went out on a limb for me. I would hate to get her in trouble.
I finish every bite of the food while looking over the book selection I have. It’s a mixture of mystery and romance. I prefer the latter, but I’m certainly not picky.
Setting the now-empty plate aside, I grab the book that looks the most interesting to me. It’s a second chance romance about high school sweethearts who meet again years later and fall in love all over again.
Before I know it, I’m lost inside the pages, clinging onto every word, and forgetting about my own life for a while. I’m so immersed in the story that I don’t realize I’m halfway through the book and hours must have passed until it’s hard to keep my eyes open.
I don’t have a clock in here, so I’m not sure about the time, but it must be very late by now. Placing my napkin from the tray between the pages, I close the book and set it aside. Unable to stay awake any longer, I switch the lamp off and nestle into my blanket.
It doesn’t take long before sleep finds me, but unfortunately, my night is restless. I keep waking up in the dark, still alone and unsure of where Liam is and what’s going on.
When I wake up the next morning, I’m groggy and on edge. Liam didn’t return, and I wonder if I’m just going to be confined to this room by myself now. Maybe it’s better this way.
I take a hot shower and change into some clothes.
Even if I spend all my time in the bedroom, I want to get dressed to feel somewhat normal.
As soon as I exit the bathroom, I notice Maggie was here to bring me breakfast. I curse myself for missing her and make a mental note to wait tomorrow morning.
Today passes quicker, thanks to the books keeping my mind occupied. I also look forward to each meal, especially seeing Maggie. Even though our interactions are brief, I cherish them. It definitely makes me feel less like a prisoner and more like a human being.
It’s been a few hours since I had dinner, and I’ve already told myself one more chapter about six times, when the sound of the lock turning fills the space.
I immediately snap my book shut and lay it on the nightstand. Nervous energy shoots through my body, knowing that it’s too late for Maggie to come, which means this is most likely Liam. I know I shouldn’t, but I feel like I’ve done something wrong.
The door opens, and Liam enters the room. He doesn’t look at me or acknowledge me in any way as he locks us inside. Tension fills the air while Liam gets undressed quickly. Throwing everything but his boxers—which remain on him—in the hamper.
He spends a short time in the bathroom. When he reenters the bedroom, he walks right up to my side of the bed and reaches for the bottom corner of my blanket. He lifts it up, exposing my legs, and I know exactly what he is about to do.
I want to ask him to please not tie me up, but his cold demeanor stops me. His touch isn’t rough, but it isn’t gentle either. There is something clinical about it, as if he has detached himself from the situation. Somehow that scares me more than his smug comments and threats.
When the shackles are secured around my ankles, he covers my legs back up and walks around the bed. He climbs onto the mattress and settles under his blanket before turning off the light on his nightstand.
Fear quickly turns into a different emotion.
Now, I’m just angry. Angry at him, at my father, angry at the situation I’m in, and maybe even at myself for being so fucking helpless.
Most of all, I just want to know what happened. Why is he all of a sudden treating me like this?
“What happened the other night—”
“Go to sleep,” he says with a stern tone.
“I just want to know—”
“Sleep,” he orders gruffly. “Now.”
I press my lips together, forcing myself to shut up. I turn my body away from him as much as I can and try not to cry out of frustration.
My heightened emotions make it hard to find rest. It takes me forever to fall to sleep and when I finally do, nightmares plague my dreams.
My knees ache against the cold tile floor, my back burns violently as my father’s belt whips against my skin, but most of all, I loathe the vile eyes on my bare torso.
My father likes to make a show out of my punishments.
Humiliate me in front of his men. It sickens me how much pleasure he takes in my misery.
“This will teach you not to misbehave,” he hisses before bringing his belt down once more. The impact is so vicious, a scream rips from my throat. My father laughs in glee, and his men cheer him on.
Blood trickles down my back, and the pain becomes unbearable.
Another strike. More agony. My screams echo through the house, but no one is coming for me. No one can stop this. As always, I’m on my own. Just as I’ll always be.