Chapter 10 Lila
I laid on the bed staring up at the ceiling, the pounding of my heart making it hard to breathe. The fear I felt earlier in the woods had vanished, replaced by something dark and dangerous. I closed my eyes as I tried to push it away and pulled the pillow closer to my chest.
My mind wandered back to what Jason had said and the way it felt to have him so close to me.
‘Be a good girl for me.’
My body involuntarily shuddered when I felt his cock pressing against my thigh. A heat spread through my core at the memory, flooding me with so many emotions I couldn’t comprehend.
Minutes passed before I sat up, finally taking in my surroundings.
The dresser was filled with photos of me and Casey, some from our childhood, others more recent.
Next to the bed was a nightstand, and a large vase filled with my favorite flowers sat on top of it.
My journal sat beside it, and my heart stilled at the thought of him reading it.
I’d kept a journal throughout my teen years and into adulthood.
Despite having Casey, there were some things I could never tell her.
Having a journal was like having a best friend that didn’t give advice but just listened.
I thumbed through it, not sure what I thought I might find, when realization hit me.
He had to have been in my apartment. And I wasn't sure if that terrified me or… excited me.
I swallowed down the growing lump in my throat and stood from the bed. My ankle popped as I put my full weight against the hardwood floor, pain shooting from the tip of my toes to my inner thigh. I pulled my foot up and hopped on one leg, using the wall to steady myself.
When I finally stepped into the bathroom, my mouth dropped open in awe.
There was a large shower on the right, big enough to fit at least ten people.
The walls were made of glass, a wooden bench sat toward the back, and showerheads resembling sprinklers lined the ceiling.
To my right was a large garden bathtub, with candles and flowers along the edges.
The porcelain gleamed under the fluorescent lights, and a smile spread across my lips as I took it all in.
My eyes lit up as I hobbled toward it and ran my fingers along its cold edges.
I’d always dreamed of having a garden tub, one I could submerge myself in fully. Most of the bathtubs I’d used were cramped, my knees bent at odd angles, and the cold air that seemed only to appear when I decided to take a bath made it less than ideal.
Against the back wall was a sink with an antique mirror hanging overhead.
I saw my reflection for the first time in who knows how long and grimaced at the sight.
My hair was disheveled and tangled with dirt caked onto my cheeks and forehead.
Dark circles sat under my eyes, the stress of the last few days evident.
My clothes were covered in mud and dead leaves, and the sleeves of my shirt were torn from getting caught in branches.
Next to the bathtub sat a cabinet, and I hobbled my way over, opening it to reveal shelves lined with towels and washcloths. I plucked one of each from the top and closed the cabinet, placing them on the edge of the bathtub. Leaning down, I turned on the water, steam rising to meet my face.
Candles lined each corner of the bathtub with their wicks trimmed but untouched.
I searched the cabinets and drawers before finally finding a lighter, lighting three of the six candles.
The smell of lavender, strawberry, and vanilla spilled into the air, and I took a deep breath, inhaling their scent into my lungs.
My hands fought to get my pants undone, the cold still lingering deep in my bones.
I finally got them undone, throwing them off to the side, and did the same with my shirt and bra.
My heart sank as I turned, seeing myself in the mirror.
My stomach was squishy and round, and my hips were broad, giving my body an hourglass shape.
The thickness of my thighs made me feel sick as I glanced down, a grimace forming on my face.
I quickly looked away, tears filling my eyes at the sight of my body.
I’d always been self-conscious, ever since I was a young child.
My mother had always made sure to comment on it, claiming I couldn’t have possibly been hers because she was petite.
A memory I’d tried hard to push to the deepest recesses of my mind floated to the surface as I sank into the bathtub, submerging my body in the steaming water.
My mother was sitting across from me, her plate of food barely touched. She pushed her broccoli around with her fork before pushing it away with a huff. I leaned forward, grabbing another helping of broccoli and mashed potatoes, and my mother’s face turned up in disgust.
“What?” I asked, annoyed at her reaction.
“Nothing,” she scoffed.
I dropped my plate on the table, a few pieces of broccoli rolling off onto the floor.
“Then why did you make that face?”
She grabbed her glass of wine and chugged it down, her eyes never leaving mine.
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” she said, slamming her glass down on the table. “You’ve gained a lot of weight over the last few months. You've been eating nonstop.”
I cocked my head to the side and glared at her, the contempt she felt for me written all over her face.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” she said, standing from the table. “Look at you, Lila. It’s embarrassing being seen with you!”
She grabbed the dishes off the table, throwing them in the kitchen sink before turning back to me, her eyes heavy with sleep.
“No man will ever want you like this. You bury yourself in food, and it's disgusting.”
I stood from the table, my hands balling into fists as anger glared deep in my chest. Tears welled in my eyes as I stepped forward, a smirk spreading across her lips.
“Go ahead and cry about it,” she laughed. “That’s what you do best. Eat and cry like a fucking baby.”
She faced the sink and turned on the water, food falling into the garbage disposal. The sound of metal crunching filled the silence as she flipped it on and pushed more food into it.
“I’m tired of looking at you. Get out of here,” she said, not even bothering to look at me.
Without a word, I turned and walked to my room, slamming the door closed.
I sank to the floor and pressed both my hands over my mouth, letting out a scream I’d been holding in far too long.
My hands trembled as I crawled to my dresser and opened the bottom drawer, moving some clothes off to the side.
The box I’d been searching for finally appeared, and my heart began to pound with anticipation.
I opened it up, seeing the silver blade reflecting faintly in the dim light of my bedroom. Carefully, I removed it from the box, and adrenaline welled in my stomach as I held it.
I glanced at the door and then at my hand before pulling my pants down to my knees.
Jagged, silvery lines were scattered across my legs, the old scars clearly visible against my pale skin.
I gently pressed the blade against the softness of my inner thigh, feeling the muscles in my back relax.
Pushing it deeper, the sharp edge pierced my skin, and my head tilted back as I dragged it across.
Blood bloomed immediately, droplets falling to the dark blue carpet beneath me, creating a small saturated spot.
I pressed it against my skin again and again until my anger had dissipated, leaving behind only emptiness.
I dropped the blade to the floor, long gashes lining my inner thigh in neat rows. I sobbed softly as I fell back against the floor and closed my eyes, wishing I had the courage to end my own suffering.
Tears slipped down my cheeks at the memory, my heart aching as I pushed it back into the depths of my mind. I ran my fingers along the jagged, raised lines across my legs, and a pang of sadness flitted through my chest.
The door in the other room opened, and heavy footsteps filled the silence. A shadow crossed the doorway as Jason entered, and instinctively, my hands shot up to cover my chest as my legs pressed firmly together.
“What the fuck! Get out!” I screamed, panic lacing my voice.
He tilted his head to the side, his eyes lighting up as he looked at me.
I held his gaze, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment.
He turned away and went into the bedroom, and I listened to him shuffling around before he came back into the room.
In his hands, he was holding my body wash and shampoo, a wild look gleaming in his eyes.
He walked forward and placed them on the edge of the bathtub before turning to leave again.
“Thanks,” I murmured just as he stepped through the doorway.
I peered out of the door, making sure he was actually gone. He sat on the bed, a book placed between his hands, and I let out a sigh of relief.
Twenty minutes later, I was out of the bathtub and dried off, realizing I had forgotten to grab clothes from my suitcase. Cursing under my breath, I swallowed my pride and wrapped the towel around myself, stumbling back into the bedroom.
Jason lay on the bed, his legs spread and his arms behind his head, staring up at the ceiling.
He was shirtless, his bare chest on display, and the sweatpants he wore hugged his hips.
I could see the outline of his cock, and I forced my thighs together as arousal flooded my core.
Tattoos decorated his chest and arms, some in color but most of them in black.
One on his chest looked fresh, and I squinted, trying to make it out.
It was a bleeding heart with the letters LGT. It took me a second to realize they were my initials. My breath caught in my throat as I kept moving forward, my eyes darting between him and the open suitcase at the foot of the bed.
Jason’s head turned to me, his eyes dancing with something I definitely recognized—desire. Heat pooled in my core, and I swallowed down the lump forming in my throat as I reached the bed, searching through my suitcase for my pajamas.
“Have a nice bath?” he asked with a smirk.
“It was fine,” I said, clearing my throat.
I finally found my pajamas and stood there, staring at Jason, waiting for him to leave. When he made no move to do so, I turned to head back to the bathroom. His hand reached out and grabbed my wrist, pulling me back toward him.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, his voice husky.
I turned to him with my brows raised, and scoffed.
“To the bathroom?”
“Why?”
“You think I’m going to get undressed in front of you?”
He released my wrist and sat back with a shrug.
“I’ve already seen you naked. What’s the harm?”
My cheeks flushed as embarrassment washed over me, and I looked down at the floor. I didn’t say anything, instead letting the silence speak for itself.
“I’ll close my eyes,” he said.
I looked up at him, his eyes shut tightly, and fought back a smile.
“Don’t peek,” I warned.
He made an X over his heart, and I shook my head, dropping the towel to the floor.
Quickly, I slipped on my pajamas and crossed my arms over my chest, trying to hide my breasts.
I’d only packed one bra, but the one lying on the bathroom floor was caked with dirt and grime.
I huffed, regretting my decision not to pack more.
I leaned down, picked up the towel from the floor, and draped it over my arm.
“Done,” I whispered.
Slowly, he opened his eyes, the green of them making my breath still. I looked away and ran my fingers through my knotted hair, telling myself that the pulse between my thighs was just some weird reaction to my predicament. It didn't mean anything.
He stood from the bed, and I clenched my thighs together, that burning heat seeming to grow as he gazed down at me. He took one step forward and pressed his body against mine before leaning down and kissing me gently on the forehead.
“Get some sleep,” he said while handing me an ice pack that had been in his back pocket. “I’ll be back in the morning.”
I nodded to him as he stepped back, words seeming to escape me at this point in time.
“Good night, Lila. Sleep well,” he said before walking toward the door and unlocking it.
He looked back at me, the muscles in his back tightening as he seemed to be holding himself back, then left, the door closing loudly behind him.