Chapter Twenty-Two
When I woke up the next morning, I was in immediate pain. I don’t know how I could have gotten to sleep the night before, only that I must have been dosed with something strong. I pulled back the sheets to find myself still stark naked, except for a strip of gauze which had been tightly wrapped around the stump which had once been a small toe.
I pressed my forehead against my palm, trying to think clearly. Why had I experienced a complete healing after the incident with the broken glass, and the destruction of my skin by the corrosive chemicals in the basement.
I stared down at the map of bruises on my foot.
This was real. I knew it was real, which meant the other occurrences must have been hallucinations.
I dropped back to the pillow, my foot throbbing. I found my mind wandering back to the night before. It had felt different from the others, more real. I could almost feel Vic, and the way he had placed my toes in his mouth, testing each one before deciding which was to serve as my penance.
The sick sweetness of the memory mingled with the pain wracking my body and an involuntary shudder ran through me.
Acting on some past instinct, I got up from the bed and limped gingerly to the armchair which had not been moved since I’d set it there on my second night in the house. I pressed my head against the wall, and my knees against the inside edges of the chair. I let my injured foot dangle over the side as I crushed my ear against the wall, hoping to hear a breath from Vic.
My ear caught a slight, unconscious sigh, and I began to explore my own body, my stomach and thighs tensing as I leaned further in to the sensation.
But it wasn’t enough.
I drew my knee forward to the back of the chair, pressing the stump hard against the edge The pain radiated through me as I ground the raw stump against the fabric covered wood. The dueling sensations pushed me over the edge, and my core tightened with heady spasms.
I found myself gasping against the wall, my breasts pressed hard against the back of the chair.
I dropped back onto my heels, my face buried in the back of the chair.
“I love you, Vic,” I whispered.
I drew in a ragged breath against the upholstery as tears sprang to my eyes.
“I’m sure he loves you too.”
Matthew stood in the doorway. He was carrying a small black bag and his glasses were pushed to the bridge of his nose. He looked as though he hadn’t slept in days, and the dark circles beneath his eyes had never looked so tender.
He sighed, before taking a seat on the side of the bed.
“Can you come here a minute?” he said, patting the place beside him. “You can cover yourself up if you want.”
I rose from the chair and went to the bathroom, embarrassment causing me to blush. I brushed my teeth and washed my face, before dragging a brush through my hair. I returned moments later, wrapped in a light blue towel.
I sat down beside Matthew, aware that I had little choice in the matter.
Matthew reached into his bag and produced a stethoscope and notepad. He put the ends of the stethoscope in his ears, and pressed the other side against my chest. He instructed me to breathe three times, and then to cough.
He wrote a little in his notebook, before continuing the examination.
He shone a light in my eyes, tested my reflexes, and did a quick physical examination.
For this, he made me stand up in front of him and remove the towel.
He continued his examination of me before reaching the missing toe. It was strange that he’d only noticed it when I was naked. It was as though he had been trying to avoid looking too long at the places the towel had covered.
“What happened here?” he asked.
For some reason, I was actually surprised.
“You mean, you don’t know?” I asked.
He offered a small frown. “No, why should I?”
I tilted my head a little. “Vic did that last night.”
“What? Why would Vic cut off one of your toes?”
“To teach me a lesson,” I said with pride.
I tried to remember why I should be proud of having my toe cut off, but nothing came to mind. I supposed it was because I had proven myself to Vic, proven that I would obey him absolutely.
“What are you feeling about Vic right now?” he asked. “I want you to be honest.”
I just shrugged. I felt instinctively protective of Vic, and the look of concern which had crossed Matthew’s face made me worry about what would happen if he disapproved of Vic’s actions. It should have concerned me more that a disagreement between the two might make me a liability.
“You won’t tell me the truth?” he asked.
“I don’t want to talk about this right now,” I said.
Matthew stood up. He was now standing in front of me, and I became even more aware of my nakedness. I tried to reach down to get the towel, but Matthew grabbed my shoulder. I pulled back and he quickly dropped his hold. A flush rose to his cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” he said as I picked up the towel and wrapped it around my body. “Listen to me, because this is important. I saw that you can’t keep anything from Vic; you seem compelled to tell him the truth no matter the consequences. I don’t know why that is, but it shouldn’t be that way. I need to know what he’s done to you.”
“So you can add it to your project, whatever it is,” I said. “If you’re that curious, you can ask Vic yourself. If he doesn’t want to tell you, that’s your problem.”
“And yours,” he said. “Like it or not, you’ve put your life in his hands. I don’t know exactly what he’s doing to you, but it seems to be some warped version of my own work. Whatever it is, it’s not right. You should have left this place when I compelled you.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“Nothing, just a missed opportunity for both of us,” he said. “Now, we have to see this through, whatever that means.”
The door opened and Vic entered. He was wearing a blue t-shirt and crossed his arms over his chest. There was a storm of energy contained within him, abiding though violent and ruthless. Still, he smiled easily.
I saw the blood drain from Matthew’s face as he took in the other man’s presence.
“Should I be worried?” Vic asked, glancing between the two of us.
I tightened my hold on the towel. “Matthew was giving me some kind of exam,” I said.
Vic came to stand next to me, his palm on the small of my back. His amber scent filled my senses, and I gently leaned toward his touch.
“Anything else, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice rough and low.
Suddenly, I didn’t want to tell him. I was still processing everything that Matthew had said, though I knew understanding should not have been so difficult. There was a kind of mental drunkenness which had overtaken me, and the connections came slow and infrequently.
“He was asking some questions,” I said.
“Questions about what?” he asked.
I bit my tongue and shrugged. My teeth pressed hard against the flesh, and the pain prevented me momentarily from speaking.
“I was just examining her. I always ask questions to establish cognitive function,” Matthew said wearily.
Vic leaned down and whispered in my ear. “Are you lying to me?” he asked.
I shook my head, while Matthew turned away and repacked his bag.
“I’m sorry to have disturbed you, Nadia. You can expect an exam every morning, so I can record your progress.” Matthew looked to Vic. “Can I talk to you?” he asked.
“Yeah, alright,” Vic said.
The two men walked out of the room, and I was left there alone. I limped to the bathroom, keeping my weight on the heel, and began filling the tub with warm water. I hoped that maybe it would soothe my soul, even if it couldn’t heal the injuries I had incurred through those past few days.
I shed my towel and slipped into the bath. I peeled the gauze from my toe, and a slow trickle of blood almost immediately resumed. I was beyond caring about those things, and submerged my foot. The water around me turned pink.
I dipped my head under, before quickly resurfacing. The water had grown to a slightly darker red by this point.
Perhaps out of fear of seeing so much of my own blood, I ducked under again, but this time did not immediately come up for air. Instead, I held my head under the water, bringing my lower body up against the other side of the tub, trying to create resistance against resurfacing.
I released my breath in small, measured bubbles until, in time, my lungs were as compressed as I could make them.
I held on as long as possible, but instinct eventually took over, and I began to rise to the surface. Almost immediately, a hand wrapped around my ankles and dragged them up, lifting most of my body out of the water. I tried to brace my hands against the bottom of the tub and raise my head, but the person jerked me backwards and forwards, preventing me from finding any grip against the slick bathtub.
I breathed in water, and began silently heaving and sputtering under the surface. I thrashed, opening my eyes to see that the water around me had taken on a darker tint. Finally, the person’s hold loosened, and I was able to reach the surface. I gasped for air, coughing continually as I tried to empty my lungs of the water they had inhaled.
At the foot of the bathtub, I saw Vic, my ankle still in his hand, and blood running down my leg into the water of the bath.
“You almost killed me,” I choked.
“Be glad it was almost,” he grinned. “Keeping secrets from me, you’re lucky I don’t split your skull.”
Vic crouched down behind me, and grabbed a bar of soap. He dipped it into the water, and rubbed the soap between his hands, creating thick suds.
He ran his palms over my shoulders and breasts, massaging them with the suds. At first, his pressure was light. His right hand travelled down my stomach, before dipping between my thighs. I gasped. He was more gentle, more tender than I had seen him in some time.
He gripped me under my arms, and lifted me into a kneeling position in the bathtub. To my surprise, he pressed his lips to mine, before pulling me into a passionate embrace. He laid a trail of kisses along my shoulder and neck, before returning eagerly to my mouth.
When I looked down, I saw that the water of the bathtub had turned crimson with the free-flowing blood from my amputation. Vic pressed me back to my heels, seeming to enjoy the sight of me kneeling in a tub of blood-saturated water.
I thought back to a time when the blood had been Margaret’s, when I too had enjoyed the tint of the water. Now, there was nothing I could do but accept the consequences.
The blood was mine, and I was Vic’s.