My tattoos werenearly healed now, and I tried to just pretend they weren’t there,but they were the fuel to my rage. I would often remind myself thatthey were only ink after all and could be removed in the long run.It didn’t piss me off any less that they werethere,though. It alsodidn’t help that my stupid cuffs kept rubbing against the scabs andit made them itch like crazy. I hated those fucking things. Iwanted them off so badly, but I knew I would just get used to themeventually.
As more timepassed, I started to lose track of time, but it became apparent tome that I had been under Darren’s captivity for about a month now.His actions and reactions became more and more predictable, and Iwas able to avoid setting off any of his triggers for almost anentire week just to see if I could. But after a couple of days, Icould tell Darren was itching to fight with me again and wouldintentionally push my buttons until I snapped at him enough towarranta punishment.Ignoringhim never worked because then he’d just punish me for not payingattention to him. I could never win against his twisted logic, andit was extremely frustrating. And then it dawned on me that Iwasn’t just here for his pleasure; I was here for hisamusement.
Some days, I wouldseriously find myself pacing back and forth in my room when I knewDarren would be home soon. I was like a loyal dog in a cage waitinganxiously for its owner to return home so they could love them. Ifelt so attention deprived when he was gone that I feared I wouldstart acting out just so someone would noticeme.
As a normal humanbeing, I was craving a connection with someone, anyone, but Darrenwas the only one available to me, and I hated him. So naturally, Ilooked forward to him coming home and letting me out of mycage.
Sleep was alsohard to come by. I barely slept a couple of hours at a time, wakingin the middle of the night covered in sweat and sometimes screamingmy lungs out. I had constant nightmares, and the stress of mysituation made it difficult to fall asleep. I was allowed to sleepin my room during the week, but when the weekends came, Darren keptme in his bed.
Eventually,I came tonotice he would never fall asleep until I had, probably nottrusting me to be awake while he slept. But then ultimately thenightmares would come and I’d wake him up. He’d always comfort meback to sleep,pullingmeagainst his chest while he rubbed my back and played with my hair.It usually worked, and I found it strange that Darren could chaseaway my nightmares while still being the cause of them.Unfortunately, it quickly became clear the only time I ever sleptfully through the night was when Darren fucked me into completeexhaustion. My body couldn’t help but need a full eight hours ofrest to recover from that kind of exertion.
At first, Darren’stouch had disgusted me, and I made sure he knew how much I hatedhim as often as possible, but it never deterred him. Sometimes,he’d get annoyed with me, and other times, he’d make me take backmy words until I apologized and learned to respect him. But I keptup my stubborn fight. I refused to break, but goddamn if he didn’tbend me, and most of the time, it was either over his knee or overthe side of the bed.
Some days wereworse than others, and those days were usually the ones whereDarren didn’t come home until the late hours of the night. I’dspend all day in my room, have dinner alone, and sometimes crymyself to sleep from desperate loneliness. I missed Jason like myheart missed its other half. It was so confusing and destructivewhen some days I longed for Darren’s attention, but then when Ifinally had it, I hated it that much more. Maybe I just hated itbecause I wanted it … needed it. He was fucking ruining me, and Iwas falling for it. Isolation was the cruelest mind fuckimaginable, especially since most days I would justlieonmy bed staring upat the ceiling, trying so hard not to think about all the things Imissed in my life.
There were dayswhen Darren would come home and I’d be in the worst moodimaginable—angry at him for leaving me in my room all day, fortaking away my freedom, for making me want him … and then I’d justattack him. I’d finally give in to my built-up rage, wanting him toknow exactly how pissed off I was and that I wasn’t afraid of him.Of course, that was a lie. I was terrified of him and the things hecould do, but some days my brain didn’t give a flyingfuck.
There was one day,a particularly bad day, where I knew we were going to fight. I hadslept like shit that night, constantly waking every two hours fromthe relentless nightmares of never seeing my family again. I wassnobby at breakfast and earned myself ten strikes on the ass overDarren’s knee for acting like a “brat.” I had stewed for the entireday in my room, my adrenaline racing while anger flooded my veinslike a disease, and I needed an outlet.
I had even refusedto allow my Russian friends to enter my room for my appointment. Ithreatened to harm them or even myself if they came in. I felt badfor scaring them away, but I had to get my point across to Darren.I was sure he knew I would never hurt them, but they certainlydidn’t know that and they weren’t sticking around to call my bluff.By the time they left, I was this close to throwing my fist throughthe wall, but I needed to save my knuckles for later. So instead, Iplotted.
Darren wasn’tcoming home until the late evening that day, so yet again, I hadspent the entire day in my room. I was beyond pissed, so Islathered my wrists, ankles, and neck in Vaseline, put my hair upin a tightponytail, andmade sure my Nikes were on.
When Darren camethrough my bedroom door, I didn’t even think, I just grabbed thefirst thing nearest to me, which happened to be a heavy candle andthrew it right at his head. But with the reflexes he had, he’dcaught it easily before it hit him, sighing as he gave me that lookthat made me quiver inside; the look that told me I was gettingfucked. Hard.
“I’m not in the mood for this tonight, Jaden. I’ve had a verylong day, and now isn’t a good time to test my patience,” hewarned, holding the candle up for me tosee.
“Well, I’m not in the mood to be locked away in my room allday like some goddamn modern dayRapunzel.”
He sighed heavilyat me, slightly shaking his head. “Now, is thatanywayto greetme?”
“Pfft, it’s certainly not even close to what you deserve,” Ireplied bitterly.
He sighed again,setting the candle down on my nightstand while barely taking hiseyes off me. I glared back at him in return, watching him as hetook small slow steps toward me.
“Clearly somebody wants to fight.” Hepracticallytskedatme.
“When do I not want to fight?” I narrowed my eyes athim.
“I can think of a few times.” He smiled at me sickeningly,taking another step forward.
“Well, now isn’t one of them.”
He sharply exhaledthrough his nose, stopping several feet in front of me. “Why do youdo this to yourself? You make things so much harder than they haveto be.”
“I could ask you the same question.” I glared. “You could makeyour life a hell of a lot easier by just letting mego.”
“Now, why would I do that when we’re both clearly having somuch fun?”
I raised aneyebrow at him. “You have a very twisted idea offun.”
“Oh? And what’s your idea of fun?”
“Bashing your face in while you choke on your own blood,” Isaid bluntly.
He cocked his headto the side and gave me a devilish grin. “And you call metwisted.”
“The difference is you’d enjoy it with anyone. I’d only enjoyit with you.”
