Chapter Five #2
I swallowed. I considered sitting up, but my body shook too much.
The water had been icy, and the cold seeped into every layer of my body.
I lifted trembling fingers to my face, needing to feel the skin.
It felt a little rough but not flayed as I’d expected.
No blood either, except from the cut in my lip.
“It felt as if my skin was scraped off.”
“It’s just a little red. There won’t be scars.”
Yet. Who knew what else my father had planned for me, for us?
Nestore kept his eyes on me as if his gaze alone was enough to give me strength, and in a way, it did.
Eventually, I crawled over to the bars and linked hands with Nestore.
He brushed his fingertips across my cheeks, like a whisper, and I leaned into his touch.
I wanted nothing more than to curl up against Nestore, to feel his heartbeat against my chest, to feel his comforting warmth.
I wanted to believe that one day we would get the chance.
But deep down, I knew the chances of us getting out of here alive were close to nonexistent.
“You need to take off your wet clothes. If you get pneumonia…” His voice choked up with fear.
I let out a shuddering breath. The idea of getting up and out of my clothes seemed too monumental, but Nestore’s worried expression spurred me on, and so I dragged myself up by the bars. I glanced over at the bed. A rough gray blanket lay folded at the foot of it.
I forced one foot in front of the other until I reached it.
Then I began to peel off my nightgown. I kept my panties on and slung the blanket around my body.
The coarse material rubbed over my sore skin painfully, making me wince, but it was warm, and that was all that mattered.
I draped my nightgown over the sink, then slunk back to where Nestore waited, his back turned to me.
“I’m decent. You can turn around.” Tears filled my eyes at Nestore’s consideration. He was so sweet to me. I wished I could have saved him today.
“Don’t cry,” Nestore said roughly.
“I’m surprised I still have tears left.”
“It’s a good sign. It means he didn’t break you yet.”
I swallowed hard. “He’ll try now that I’m in here.”
Nestore’s face flashed with despair. “I want to protect you, but I don’t know how.”
“At least, we’re always together now.”
Nestore pressed his forehead against the bars separating us. “You don’t belong in here.”
“Neither do you.”
“Sometimes I forget who I was before this.”
“I’m here to remind you.”
Time became meaningless down here. Several weeks passed.
How many? It was hard to tell. Nobody ever came down here to talk to either of us.
Father had stationed guards at every door, so even if Flavia had tried to visit, she wouldn’t have succeeded.
The only one who came for me was my father.
Like he had this morning. Or afternoon? What time was it? What day?
My eyes moved when my body could no longer do so, until I found Nestore. He too lay on his side, with his eyes on me, as broken, as desperate as I was. Like always, he had suffered worse. Father tortured him worse, but he could take it better. I wasn’t sure I could survive for much longer.
I lay there battered and broken, watching him as he watched me. In the beginning, I’d cried every time I had to use the toilet because he could hear it. Now I didn’t even ask him to turn around anymore, though he always looked away.
Our breathing was heavy in the basement’s silence. It rattled in our chests, a desperate echo in the darkness.
Nestore stretched out his hand, slowly, his chest heaving from the effort and agony, until his fingertips passed the bars between our cells.
I looked at them for a few heartbeats, at the blood sticking to them, before I inched my fingers toward his. A small sigh passed Nestore’s lips when our fingers touched.
This slight touch symbolized the fragility of my will to live. I wasn’t sure how Nestore had survived for so long without any hope for escape or a better future.
“Stay,” he croaked.
I blinked. I will. I wasn’t sure if I’d said the word or only thought it, but Nestore understood me without many words.
I didn’t want to die, but I knew I couldn’t live in this eternal darkness forever. We both needed a miracle. I wished I believed in them.
Amelia lay curled up on the pallet, covered in the blanket. Her nightgown wouldn’t dry down here. It was too dank.
Her red hair tumbled down the edge of the bed.
She didn’t belong in here. I wished I could save her.
I spent almost every waking moment I was alone fantasizing about how I’d torture and kill her father, but sometimes, very rarely, my dreams were filled with images of a future with Amelia.
The darkness inside my chest was almost crushing, and I had no way to unleash it.
I wondered when it would simply burst out of me.
The door creaked open, and my body filled with adrenaline as my flight instinct kicked in. I had learned to hide my terror, but it still filled me every time the door opened. It rarely meant anything good.
I was surprised to see Flavia Lamorgese enter the cell. I hadn’t seen her since my birthday party. She was heavily pregnant. Bruises bloomed on her face and covered her arms. Her gaze passed me by and latched onto Amelia. Worry and fear clouded her expression. “Is she…?”
“Asleep,” I rasped.
Her eyes met mine, and she sighed. “I warned her to stop visiting you, but she wouldn’t listen. And for what?”
I held her gaze. “I’d put my life down for her.”
She scowled. “You’ll both die down here!” She choked up and swallowed hard, then her face became hard. “I have clothes and food for her.”
“Considering the state of your face, I’d recommend you don’t sneak down here either.” I didn’t really care for her fate, but Amelia often talked kindly about her and obviously cared about her stepmother, so I felt compelled to warn her.
“He knows. He wants her well enough so he can torture you both.” Her voice broke, and her shoulders slumped. “She shouldn’t have risked it for you.”
“I know,” I said.
She regarded me as if to gauge my sincerity, then quickly looked away. I wondered what she saw in my face that scared her so much. She slid a heap of clothes and a plastic plate with sandwiches into Amelia’s cell. After a moment of hesitation, she took one of the sandwiches.
“Don’t,” I said.
“She’ll share her food with you anyway.”
“She will, but she won’t believe you gave it to me and will insist on sharing more of her food with me.”
She put the food back down and rose to her feet. Her eyes lingered on Amelia. “I’ll try to talk him into letting her go. She still has worth for him if he marries her off. It’s better than dying down here.”
Jealousy reared its head. The idea that Amelia would marry someone else felt like a dagger in my chest, but Flavia was right. If that meant Amelia would get out of here alive, then I’d choose that option.
“Why did he send you down here?” I asked.
“To punish me for helping you.”
“Looks like he punished you already.” I motioned to her many bruises.
She shuddered. “You know very well that’s nothing.”
I did. She left without another word, and I sank on my bed to keep an eye on Amelia, even if there was nothing I could do. Soon, her body shook with nightmares. I got up, ignoring the pain in my side, and walked over to the bars. “Amelia, wake up.” She didn’t wake.
“Wake up!”
She jerked up with wide eyes. The terror in them reminded me of the beginning of my captivity.
How often had I woken with my pulse pounding in my ears and my heart threatening to burst out of my rib cage?
This primal fear had become a part of me, and in some ways, it had lost its threat.
Pain and torture were part of my reality.
I didn’t know how I’d ever existed without them.
I wanted to say “You’re safe,” but she wasn’t, and I didn’t want to lie to her. Her blue eyes settled on me, and she smiled. Smiled as if we both weren’t doomed to rot in this dank basement, as if pain and misery wouldn’t be part of the rest of our lives.
I wasn’t sure how, but I wanted to save her. I didn’t care if I died doing it. Amelia wouldn’t survive years in this cell, and I wouldn’t survive without Amelia.
She had become my reason for existing.