Chapter 18
brENNA
It’s cold again.
I know all the holes in the roof have been fixed, so the only explanation I can give for the constant chills rushing through my body is I’m going through withdrawal.
Cormac is a drug and I’ve got to wean myself off of him.
The best way I can even attempt to do that is by staying away from him. That’s what we’ve been doing for the past four days. We don’t eat together anymore. I don’t sleep in his room anymore. He looks into my room two or three times a day, probably just to make sure his property is still intact.
I wonder how long it would take him to find me if I pulled one of the knives from the kitchen to slit my wrists? Would he even care? I doubt it.
The constant intrusive thoughts run like a never ending stream in my mind. I’m broken.
I told my father I would but I don’t think he believed me, or if he did he didn’t care.
That seems to be the story of my life. I’m only worth what I can be used for. Since being here I let Cormac use every last piece of me. My happiness, my strength, my body, my spirit. I gave him everything only to find out that he only planned on keeping me for the trial period.
I don’t know how long I’m going to be able to keep this up. I’d rather just become another one of the ghosts that haunts these halls than have to live like this.
In the distance, I hear the in-house phone ring. Someone is coming in. To think in previous days I would be excited just for the fact that I would get to see another human face.
I don’t even know how much time has passed. I don’t hear anyone. Did they come and go already?
I’m losing time, completely in a haze for hours until my eyelids refuse to stay open and I lay back down to go to sleep.
I hear the in-house phone again. Is someone else coming to visit or is it the same time?
My head drops forward and I’m so dizzy I actually fall out of bed. I land with a loud thump on the floor.
Seconds later, Cormac bursts into my room.
“Brenna, what the fuck.” He growls as he takes large steps in my direction.
He leans down and lifts me up off the floor.
“No! Don’t touch me. Get away.” I use as much strength as I can muster but even to my own ears I can hear the way the words slur and sound weak. He doesn’t do as I ask. Instead, he walks me to the door where I see Killian standing there.
“You’re just like him, aren’t you? A fucking monster.” I snarl at the man who had been nothing but nice to me so far.
He raises his hand to touch my forehead.
Suddenly, I’m feeling exhausted as if the simple movement of being half dragged, half carried from the floor to the door is enough to knock me out.
I don’t know why I’m so damn cold.
“…No fever…” I can hear the two of them talking, but it’s like I’m underwater. Suffocating.
“…I don’t know… just changed…”
“…eating, has she drunk any water?”
I hear the last portion of Killian’s words.
And as best as I can I try to calculate the last time I actually put food or water in my mouth.
I did have a cup of water on my side table I’ve been sipping at over the past few days, but I haven’t braved going out into the kitchen to get anything to eat.
I’m fucking starving myself to death. How weak is that.
I guess there are worse ways to go.
Cormac brings me into the parlor room and sits me in his chair. Killian follows behind him. When I garner enough strength to open my eyes I can see the both of them looking at me like I’m some sort of wounded animal. I am. I’m utterly useless.
“You should send me back. Tell my father I’m defective. Maybe you’ll get a refund. Too bad he doesn’t have any other daughters to trade me for.” I grunt and turn my head away.
They start talking again but this time they are quieter and I can’t even catch bits and pieces. I don’t need to be here for this. I don’t want to be anywhere near him. In fact, now that Cormac is so close it’s almost like my body can sense it’s close to its next hit. I yearn for him. I miss him.
I push myself up from the chair, trying to steady myself so I can walk out.
“Sit the hell down.” Cormac comes back to me and shoves me back in the chair. At least it felt like a shove, I’m so weak he could’ve blown on me and I’d have fallen over.
“Fuck off.” I curse him.
“I’ve had just about enough of you disrespecting me.” He snaps at me.
Rage sparks inside of me. “And what are you going to do about it? Beat me? Cuff me to the bed? Or maybe you’ll sic your dogs on me again. I’m sure they could use a bit of exercise.”
He glares at me long and hard before he completely disregards what I’ve said and turns back to his brother. Before long, my body gives up and I just wind up falling asleep in the chair.
I’m not sure how much time has passed, but one moment I’m lost in a nightmare being swallowed whole by an ever growing shadow and the next I’m being shaken.
Cormac is standing in front of me, a plate of food in his hand. Rice and some sort of grilled chicken cut up.
“You need to eat.” He speaks, but there’s no emotion in his tone.
“I’ll eat when I’m good and ready to.” I turn my face away from him, but he grabs hold of my chin and forces me to look in his direction.
I kick my legs out and try to wrench my face away from his hands.
It burns. Just the feel of his fingers on my skin feels like I’m being burned from the inside out.
“Stop being so fucking difficult. I’m not going to let you starve to death.” He shouts down in my face. I swing my arms, one of my hands coming into contact with the plate that goes flipping up in the air. The food flies in every direction.
I smirk up at him, feeling like I’ve won this round.
He sighs hard, finally letting go of my face before he flexes his fists over and over again at his side.
Just when I thought it was over, Cormac grabs hold of my leg and yanks me down so hard that the back of my head hits the cushion on the seat of the chair. He lays me out on the floor and sits directly on my midsection, trapping both my legs and arms underneath him.
“Maxim! Bring me another plate.” He yells out an order and I realize then and there that this is far from over. He’s not going to stop until I give in. It’s going to be a long fight, but at least I know that’s one thing I’m good at. Fighting.
CORMAC
Two days of absolute hell.
I’ve had to force-feed Brenna for the last two days and she’s still no sign of changing.
I called Killian over because I was at my absolute wits’ end. Going out of my mind trying to figure out what is going on.
All I know is when I left that afternoon and when I came back she was a completely different person.
I even went so far as to try to find a doctor that would take her in to check for brain tumors.
Every last person I spoke to said it sounded more like a substance abuse problem than a brain trauma. It just didn’t happen that fast.
Killian was my last hope. I prayed that since he had so much more experience with women maybe he would know something, but he had no information for me either. He couldn’t understand what would change her from the fun-loving woman she’d been earlier to this venom-spitting menace now.
We did figure out that she hadn’t been eating. For a while, I’d hoped that once we got her nutrition back on track her mood would shift. It did shift, but for the worse.
It’s seven o’clock now, the time I put aside to feed her. I look into the reflective panel of the microwave and even in that very small space I can see how haggard I look.
This is killing me.
Not only because of how poor Brenna seems to be but of what she says to me when I do force her to be in my presence. I’ve heard all the insults she hurls my way before, but coming from her it’s like the barbs on the edges of each word cut that much deeper.
She constantly is telling me to send her back. Telling me that she doesn’t want to be here. I just don’t understand how I could have been so wrong about what was going on with us.
The other added effect of me forcing her to eat was the fact she was getting her strength back, that means the blows she threw have some force behind them now. She caught me once as I tried to get her down and before I could pin her arms. My cheek is still tender from that blow.
I don’t know how much longer I can do this, to both of us.
I grab hold of the lukewarm macaroni and cheese, grab a towel and a spoon before I make my way toward Brenna’s room.
She turns her head when I walk through. Every time I open this door I expect her face to light up with happiness as it did before. Instead, it’s disdain, each and every time. The disappointment doesn’t lessen no matter how many times I do it.
“When will you give up?” She mutters before turning her face away from me.
“You’re my wife. I’m not going to give up. Ever.”
She scoffs, “You’re dumber than I thought.”
I put the plate down and make my way to her, moving as if she were a dangerous animal instead of the woman I love.
I grab hold of her leg, trying to get her into the only position that seems to work, which is her on the floor and me on top of her.
I guess I’ve used that trick one too many times because this time she’s ready for it.
She yanks her foot away and puts both her hands on my shoulders to shove me away.
I land on my back before I quickly get back to my feet and charge for her again.
She’s fast. Before I can get a hand on her she jumps up and over the bed so she’s on the other side.
She lunges for the food I just brought in and she tosses the plate against the wall, shattering pieces of glass in a yellow, gooey mess.
“For fuck’s sake! What is your fucking problem. I’m just trying to help you! What do you want?” I shove my hands through my hair and tug on the strands. I don’t know what else to do.
“I want you to send me back!” She yells at me.
“I can’t!” I shout right back, taking a step, my shoes crunching on the broken glass scattered on the floor.