Part 12 (1/2)
All I can do is stare at him.
”Are you not gonna talk?”
”What would you like me to say?”
He shakes his head and picks away some of the dried blood from his nails. ”Something.” He hops up from the bed, putting his face close to mine. ”You tried to f.u.c.king kill yourself, Tor. You should have something to f.u.c.king say.”
I watch him for a few seconds as he clenches his fists and a muscle in his jaw ticks.
”I have nothing to say to you,” I say quietly.
”f.u.c.k!” he yells, turning away from me and stalking to the far side of the room. He slams his palm against the wall, keeping his back to me as he breathes heavily. There's a long beat of silence. I don't move. I don't know what he's going to do next.
”The man that killed my mother and sister,” he says, so quietly I barely hear him, ”was Euan's uncle. He wants me dead.” He turns to face me, leaning against the wall and lifting his eyes to mine. ”I don't believe in coincidences. I thought you were working with him.”
I frown. I should feel nothing for him and yet, my heart aches for him, for all that he's lost. The loss of a mother is a tragic and heartbreaking one. ”I'm sorry.” I whisper.
He shakes his head and drops his gaze to the floor. ”He and my father had a ...disagreement, so he burned our house down with them inside it. On the one year anniversary of their death he sent my father a video of him raping and torturing them before he set the house on fire. I pa.s.sed by my dad's office when he was watching it.” Oh, my G.o.d. He's breathing is heavy, his fists clenched. He can't look at me. ”I fall asleep every d.a.m.n night hearing the screams from that video.” He speaks the words as though they are a dirty secret, an unwanted weakness.
I press my hand over my mouth as a choked sob escapes my throat. I should hate Jude. I should want nothing more than to kill him right now, but I don't. I try desperately to cling to my rage, my hatred, the pain, because suddenly I feel sorry for him, and I don't want to. I want to cry for the two women that are strangers to me. I feel as though we are bound in some way, victims of these monsters who pretend to be men.
”I will kill anyone that works with him, I promised my father I would, but you...” he swallows as his eyes rise to mine. ”I never wanted to kill you, Tor. I just...I needed to be sure.” He pulls in a heavy breath and pushes off the wall, closing the distance between us. I take an uneasy step back and he holds his hands out; slowly, gently brus.h.i.+ng a strand of hair away from my neck. His eyes flick to the ugly mark across my throat and he squeezes his eyes shut. ”I never should have left you.” his voice breaks.
His fingers brush across my cheek. ”Joe is trying to use you, whether you know it or not.” I watch as anger masks his face, his green eyes becoming turbulent and volatile. ”I will not let him do that. Not to you.”
I drop my gaze from his, unable to look at him. ”You already did it.” I whisper. His hand slips from my cheek, and his head falls forward as his shoulders tense.
”I'm not like him.” I don't know who he's trying to convince more, me or himself.
”What happened to your family is horrible, but that doesn't justify you doing the same to someone else. An eye for an eye. Is that how it works in your world?” My voice shakes as I try to control my emotions. I thought I was done feeling. I thought I was broken beyond repair, but I'm not. I'm still f.u.c.king here, and his bulls.h.i.+t justification for his actions isn't enough.
He takes a slow step back. ”Don't you f.u.c.king dare compare me to that f.u.c.king b.a.s.t.a.r.d!” He shouts, pointing at me. He clenches and releases his fists, attempting to rein in his temper. ”I didn't f.u.c.king touch you! And I would never rape a woman. Ever.” His breathing is audible, his chest heaving.
My cold numbness is giving way to a very real, very feral anger. ”No, you're worse, because you ordered someone else to hurt me, and then left me!” I snap. ”If you wanted me tortured, you should have at least had the b.a.l.l.s to do it yourself. You're a f.u.c.king coward and you're weak.”
He takes a predatory step toward me, glaring at me. He grabs me by the shoulders and pushes me back against the wall. Panic grips me as I feel his fingers creep around my throat. I flinch as he brushes against my st.i.tches. His breathing is ragged, his hand shaking. He squeezes his eyes shut, his fingers twitching against my neck. I turn my face away from him and close my eyes, waiting for the inevitable. There's a tense beat of silence before he shoves himself away from me.
”f.u.c.k!” he growls as he grabs the closest thing to him which is the picture of his mother and sister, and hurls it across the room. Gla.s.s scatters across the floor. Taking his arm, he swipes at everything on the dresser, sending it cras.h.i.+ng to the floor. ”f.u.c.k!” He freezes and clasps his hands behind his head, breathing heavily. He hangs his head forward and drops his hands, slowly moving to the broken picture, and he picks it up, removing the remaining gla.s.s.
He places the frame back on the dresser and leaves the room. For the first time since I've gotten here, I am alone and there's an open door in front of me, but there's no point in running. I walk to the door and softly close it.
Sometime later there's a soft knock at the door, followed by the creak of it opening. I'm lying on my side, staring at the wall.
”Ria?” Caleb says.
I feel the mattress dip slightly as he sits on the far side of it.
”I need to check your st.i.tches.” This is the third time in two days that he's been in here to check on my st.i.tches. They don't need checking. I'm a doctor, for Christ's sake. I don't need a trainee paramedic telling me whether or not I'm okay. If it weren't for him and his brother, I wouldn't need checking on.
”They're fine,” I say. I have to hand it to him, he did a good job of st.i.tching my throat. It will scar though, and so will my chest and stomach. A permanent reminder of this nightmare.
He sighs. ”Ria...”
”I'm a doctor. I'm fine.”
”d.a.m.n it, will you please talk to me.”
I sigh and roll over, sitting up against the headboard. I pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them.
”Talk and then leave,” I snap.
He drops his head forward into his hands. ”I'm so sorry. You know I didn't want to do it.” He's already said this, but I've refused to acknowledge him, and so he keeps coming back.
”You did, though, Caleb,” I say blankly.
”Please, you know I would never...”
”Cowards hide behind excuses. A weak man blames his actions on others. You let it happen, and if you believed it was wrong, then you should have stood up for what you believed was right.”
His eyes meet mine, begging me to hear him, to understand, but I don't understand. I don't understand how you could bind a girl and watch a man tear her clothes off and let her almost freeze to death, without acting against it.
”Ria,” he whispers.
”No!” I snap out. ”You disgust me as much as your brother.” He recoils as if I had physically slapped him. ”Please, just leave.”
He looks up at me like a puppy that's just been kicked. My heart gives a little squeeze because I've lost the only friend I had in this place, and his betrayal hurts worse than any physical pain I've endured.
He sighs heavily. ”You have to come with me.”
”Where?”
His eyes lock with mine. ”Jude wants you. He has something for you. Something that might make you feel better.”
I glare at him. ”Tell your f.u.c.king brother that this can't be fixed with shallow gifts.”
”Trust me, Ria, I think you'll want this.”
”I don't trust you, or him.”
”Please,” he begs.
Call it curiosity, or maybe I'm just bored s.h.i.+tless of looking at these four walls, but I get up and follow him out of the room. We don't speak on the way down the stairs. I think Caleb finally realises that no amount of apologising will ever make this okay.
I haven't been able to sleep, h.e.l.l, I'm barely able to shut my eyes without seeing her all bloodied and split open. It's taken me three days to calm down enough and rationalize how to handle this, because at first all I wanted to do was kill Bob, but that would do nothing but grant me a fleeting moment of satisfaction.
Drumming my fingers over the worn edge of my desk, I wait. There's a cigarette smoldering in the ashtray. I haven't smoked it. I'm just watching the thin white swirls float in front of my face as I try to even out my breathing. What he did to her was unjustified, sick, and shows a complete lack of respect for me, and for her.
I listen to the footsteps coming down the stairs, and seconds later there's a knock on the door. The hinges of the chair creak as I rise to answer it, and the door swings open before I can get there. I see Tor's tiny frame behind Caleb. Her eyes lock with mine, and I can barely look at her. They're empty, hollow. That spark that I admired so much has vanished. She really is gone.
”Come on,” I say hoa.r.s.ely as I make my way down the hall.