Chapter 41
I’m beginning to forget what friendship means. It now seems akin to a fern flower, an unusual and impossible sight. I have been lonely and isolated for far too long. So long I got used to the loneliness. I don’t want a flower any more. Loneliness is my best friend.
I woke up, feeling like half my body had gone numb. I could feel Eric’s hand stroking my head as I was lying in his lap.
It was dark in the car. The engine was no longer running, which meant we were back home.
How long have we been sitting in the car? Why didn’t he wake me up?
I realized I’d never get the answers to simple questions, let alone complicated ones. That meant I had nothing to lose.
“Why do you hate me?”
My voice was still hoarse from the recent nap.
His hand stopped.
“Hate you? Why do you hate me?”
His question made me surprised and angry at the same time.
I got up and met his gaze.
“Why?” I hissed, “The list’s almost endless.
You took me, kept me in a basement with no food or water.
You kidnapped and killed girls. Innocent girls who didn’t do anything wrong.
My mom’s in a coma because of you, fighting for her life.
And I had to sleep with you because we’ve got no money to pay for the injections that keep her going.
You took my education away. My future. My life,” I was almost screaming, “you could have saved Bell, but you’re not a hero , you’re a fucking villain.
You’re a black hole that kills and destroys everything good it comes in contact with.
You’re the evil walking the Earth unpunished. You’re the worst a person could be.”
“The list isn’t that big, after all.”
I was holding back rage, trying not to lay into him.
“Why?”
“You see, you need a reason to hate me. And I don’t need one. I hate you just for fun. The world’s unfair, isn’t it?”
I jumped out of the car, slamming the door full-force.
I kicked off the heels and headed to the woods. I did not want to be around him.
I heard the door slam behind me.
He caught up with me and grabbed my arm, but I pulled it away and ran deeper into the woods.
It was freezing, like the cold was brought forth by darkness itself. I tripped on a log and fell to the ground. I ripped my tights and scratched a knee. I jumped back to my feet and kept running, not knowing where to or why. I knew I couldn’t stop.
I kept running until my legs began hurting. Maybe he didn’t follow me?
I stopped to listen for his steps and give myself a break when he grabbed and knocked me to the ground.
I fell on the cold, hard soil with a scream.
He sat on me and held my hands at my chest.
“Let me go,” I was struggling, “let me go.”
He was too strong and heavy, I couldn’t move at all.
I was screaming and crying.
He leaned closer. The dull moonlight illuminated his face, making him look ominous.
“I want you to hate me. Hate me more than you’ve ever hated anyone in your life. I want to be your worst enemy. My dream is for you to wake up and go to sleep every day thinking how much you wanna kill me. I want to devour your mind and all your feelings. Hate me, Zoe. Hate me harder.”
I looked in his eyes filled with genuine hatred and no longer cared why, because I really hated him just as much as he did.
I was twisting and turning in bed, not getting even a wink of sleep.
Anxious thoughts of escape gnawed at me. Doubts weighed heavily on me.
But I knew we didn’t have a choice. I had to do it, if not for myself, then for Bell and my mom.
The idea of an only chance terrified me.
I let out a sigh and threw the blanket aside.
Going down to the kitchen, I poured myself a glass of water and began to drink slowly.
Hearing the footsteps, my body tensed up and I turned to the doorway.
Eric was standing next to me.
He put his hand on top of mine. His lips touched the glass and he drank the rest of the water.
His eyes were as cold as the nights beyond the Polar Circle.
When he let go of my hand, I slammed the glass down on the counter, not taking my eyes off him.
“I didn’t allow you to drink my water.”
“Your water?”
“Yes. I was drinking it. So it’s mine.”
“You live in my house. Wearing the clothes I’ve bought you. Standing in my kitchen. Drinking my God-damn water from my glass.”
Anger seethed in me, and I let it out.
I took off my silk nightie and threw it in his face.
“Now I don’t have anything of yours.”
I was quite literally naked. I was standing there, stark naked, while he still had his checkered pajama pants on .
He closed his eyes and hissed through gritted teeth, then grabbed and sat me down on the countertop. His hand gripped my hair, pulling back painfully.
His obsidian eyes stared into my soul.
“Your body belongs to me.”
His right hand squeezed my face while his left pulled at my hair wrapped around his fist.
“These lips are mine.”
He kissed me roughly, pushing his tongue deep into my mouth, without giving me a chance to move.
Both his hand and his lips moved to my neck.
“This neck is mine.”
He ran his tongue down my neck, biting it.
“These tits are mine.”
His left palm squeezed my right breast hard. His right hand held my left breast as he sucked and nipped at my nipple.
I bit my bottom lip, trying to stifle the moan building up in my throat.
His hand squeezed my nipple as two of his fingers slid into my heated core.
He moved my hand away and I bit down on my bottom lip hard to keep quiet.
His lips whispered venomously into mine.
“This pussy is mine. Your whole body belongs to me. You’re mine entirely.”
“Fuck you, Roncalli,” I spat, breathing heavily.
“Fuck you, Torn.”
My head hit the cabinet on the wall behind me as he pushed deep into me, covering my mouth with his hand.
His eyes were too close to mine as he thrust into me hatefully.
It’s like he wanted to hurt me, and I longed for it.
He didn’t know how hooked I was on pain and how much I hated it at the same time. Because it reminded me of him .
I could feel a wave of arousal lifting me to the peak. My eyes were ready to roll back.
“Show me how much my body wants to cum.”
I held back my arousal, not wishing to do what he told me.
He caught on to that and pulled out abruptly.
He pulled me to my feet, turning me around so my ass was facing him. He lifted my right leg on the countertop, his body pushing against mine, not letting me put it down. He roughly grabbed my hair and pulled my head back.
I didn’t have time to find support for my hand when he suddenly slid inside me and I cried out, covering my mouth with my hand.
He spanked me painfully on my right buttock, the stinging pain flooding the same raw spot until a tear fell down on my hand.
His thrusts were quick and vicious.
His hand found my breast and he squeezed my nipple hard, making me cum.
My body sank beyond the wave that pushed me to my peak.
“Fuck, Zoe,” he hissed through clenched teeth.
My body shook as I drowned in the waves of twisted passion.
He pulled out quickly, leaving me feeling barren.
As the afterglow of my orgasm washed over my body, I felt warm liquid running down my inner thigh.
My body felt stiff. I struggled to stand up straight. My legs wouldn’t obey me. So I froze in the pose he left me in.
The haze of my orgasm was gradually replaced by a symphony of guilt, shame, repulsion and hatred. For what was meant for the man I loved, I gave to the man I loathe and despise.
I had good intentions, but it’s in his nature to corrupt everything he laid his hands on, and I was no exception.
Our arrangement was supposed to help me, not drag my soul to hell .
These emotions were made even worse by the realization that I craved it. I liked pain. Liked his touch.
I hated myself. I was supposed to resist evil, but before I knew it, I took its side.
My body was sinful, it kept plunging itself deeper and deeper into darkness. I hated it because it betrayed me.
But I still held out hope for my soul. Because I’d never give it away. It’s loyal to me. It belonged to me. It’s mine.
After a while, I began to slide down to the floor, and Eric caught me in his arms.
I thought he’d left, but he’d been standing behind me all this time.
He was carrying me upstairs.
“Oh. Spare me from this. Just drop me already.”
He pretended to drop me, and I clung to his neck for dear life, pressing myself against his body.
He smirked.
“You don’t know what you want yourself.”
The answer “your death” lingered on my tongue, but I still had some self-preservation left in me.
“I want you gone.”
“Who’d carry you in his arms then?”
“Another man.”
His hands gripped me tighter.
He put me down not far from my room.
We were standing halfway between our rooms.
It’s like he gave me a choice where to go.
I looked at him, breathing heavily.
The fresh feeling of intimacy and anger hissed inside me like a pill in the water.
“I hate you.”
His eyes narrowed a little .
I turned away and was about to head to my room when he grabbed my arm, twisting me around to face him.
His hand grabbed my face roughly. His lips came closer to mine, his hot breath caressing my skin.
He stayed silent, his eyes burning with rage.
“Go. To sleep,” he hissed through gritted teeth.
He pushed me away and went to his room.
Asshole.
When I woke up the next day, I decided not to come out for breakfast. Marta brought it to my room, asking what was wrong. I told her I didn’t feel well, which wasn’t true, of course.
I was mad. Mad at Eric. I spent all morning imagining myself hurting him. How his face twisted in pain when he saw me hurt his beloved brunette. How he was suffering, falling in pain. How it ripped him apart. I longed to see it on his face.
I heard a car running and looked outside.
He left.
To see her?
I didn’t care.
I had time to get everything Bell and I needed ready for the escape.
I needed a phone. I had to charge it.
I went to the bathroom and looked in the bottom drawer of the cabinet, but it wasn’t there anymore.
Panic came over me. I began throwing all the paper rolls to the floor.
It had to be here. I put it here the last time. I wrapped it in toilet paper and put a bunch or rolls around to hide it.
I opened every drawer, throwing everything in them out.
It wasn’t there.
My fist hit the wall as I yelled out in anger.
There was a knock on the door.
I walked up and yanked it open .
It was Norman. He brought me a dress.
A white one. Again.
I stepped aside, arms folded on my chest.
I slammed the door shut and he turned around.
“Where’s my stuff?”
“In the wardrobe.”
“You think I’m stupid? I’m talking about the stuff I brought from the dorms.”
“Boss said to trash it.”
“Did you do it?”
“Of course.”
“Who was the last to come to my room while I was out? One of my things is missing.”
“Marta. No one else comes here but her.
She could have found it while cleaning. And if she did, she’d give it to Eric.”
Why did it have to happen today? When I was this close to freedom.
All this time I refused to lose hope, tirelessly fighting demons both in the real world and in my head.
I blindly cherished the thought that I’d make it out of here because I had no other choice.
I had to do it. I believed I would escape and leave it all behind.
That I would forget everyone and everything I went through here.
But why? Why?
I went downstairs and found Marta in the kitchen.
My gaze fell on the kitchen counter and my vile heart skipped a beat.
I cleared my throat and came up to Marta.
“I can’t find something in my room.”
“What are you looking for?”
“It... it was on the shelf under the sink, where the toilet paper is.”
“What did you keep on a toilet paper shelf? ”
“Doesn’t matter. Did you take it?”
She huffed.
“How could I have taken something I know nothing about? I didn’t even go to that shelf. You put your things somewhere and forget about them. You have to remember, where you put stuff.”
I frowned.
Was she lying? No.
She’s one of the few people around here who would never play a double game, gaslight or mock me. That’s why I liked her more than others.
Was it Norman then?
Or Eric?
“I see you’re feeling better.”
“I’m still under the weather.”
“Sure. I see.”
I smiled and headed back to my room.
I took a shower and sat down to do my makeup.
I needed my phone. I had to call dad. I had to warn him to give them time to get away and hide.
Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to escape.
Would I have time to find another phone?
No. They had no phones here. Everyone carries their phone on them. I was incredibly lucky to even find a charger.
How soon could Eric kill my family? Would I at least have time to get Bell on a bus?
I rested my hand on the table, still holding the brush.
Too risky. Bell would have to escape alone. I’d give her the watch and tell her where to run. And in the meantime, I was going to distract them in any way I could.
I walked up to the white dress hanging in the wardrobe and tossed it to the ground.
I hated white. White was a premonition of failure .
I opened the wardrobe and began to rummage through the clothes, looking for a color I’d like. My hand paused at a silver-gray dress.
I took the cami dress off the hanger and put it on.
I was so glad the zipper was on the side.
I walked up to the mirror and saw how the minimalistic bodice accentuated my waistline and breasts, while the slit on the side stretched all the way down from my hip. The dress was made of heavy satin.
I pulled my hair into a sleek high ponytail. I opened the nightstand and pulled out the pink box.
I put the watch on and realized I had to hide it.
I took a white knitted cardigan from the wardrobe and put it on.
I went downstairs and headed to the dining room. When I got there, the room was empty and the lights were turned off.
I saw Marta walk straight ahead with quick and steady steps, so I followed her.
She entered a cozy living room with a burning fireplace and began setting the table.
Why did we never dine here?
“Why aren’t you wearing white?”
I turned to reaper’s voice.
“I am wearing white. The cardigan’s white.”
I heard a car approaching and quickly walked to the front door.
Eric stopped me, grabbing my arm.
I looked up at him, expecting another snide remark, only to see him scowl as his gaze dropped to my wrist.
I tried pulling my hand away, but he gripped it tighter.
He lifted my sleeve and saw the watch.
Ice ran through my veins and my stomach sank.
“What the fuck is that?”