Kyro. My stepfather. The man who abused me from the moment my mom died until I escaped. The man who chained me up, never to see daylight or the outside world during my late teens. The man who destroyed everything about me just because he could, and he knew I had no one else. There was no one to come and save me from his cruelty because no one even knew I even existed. Except Arabella of course.
The memories flood back, each one a searing blade cutting deeper into my soul. His evil laughter, the feel of his rough hands on my body, and the suffocating darkness of the room where he kept me. The sense of hopelessness and despair that seemed to swallow me whole. Even now, months later, his voice still echoes in my head, a constant reminder of the trauma I faced.
I rock back and forth, trying to drown out the noise, but it’s relentless. The weight of the past crushes me, making it hard to breathe. I want to scream, but I know no one can save me from these demons. They’re a part of me now, embedded deep within, feeding on my pain. I can’t give in. I won’t let him win. I’ve come too far and fought too hard to be free of him, and I refuse to let his memory destroy me.
Slowly, I open my eyes, forcing myself to breathe deeply to calm my racing heart. I focus on the present and on the things I can control. I am stronger than he ever knew—stronger than even I knew.
When I suddenly hear the trailer door open and shut, I quickly wipe my eye’s, knowing Eli is home. After I have fixed myself and slipped into my black tracksuit, I gently open the bathroom door and head toward the kitchen, where I hear him moving around.
As I enter, he has his back to me, busy preparing food. He side-eyes me, sensing my presence, and I go to the coffee pot.
Pouring myself a large mug, I decide to break the silence, feeling the tension already thick in the air. “How was your first evening at the carnival?”
He doesn't respond immediately, just keeps chopping vegetables and the sound of the knife hitting the cutting board fills the room, amplifying the uneasy silence between us.
After a moment, he finally speaks, his tone devoid of its usual warmth. “Yeah, good.”
I take a sip of my coffee while observing him carefully, the heat spreading through me.
“Who was that young chick I saw pestering you?” I question, trying to probe him after the uneasy feeling I had when I first saw him with her. Wondering if that is what has triggered my downward spiral tonight.
He immediately stops cutting the vegetables, pausing to think about my question. “Who was that guy I saw you had your legs wrapped around?” he counters my question with a question, his voice sharp.
My teeth grind down hard before I slam the mug down on the counter beside me, “I work with him, E. That's Hellion, the ringleader of The Hollow’s here. I’ll be working with him a lot. He is not a customer.” I bite back.
I know I am lying to him and probably myself. Hell is becoming so much more than just someone I work with. He is becoming my stalker and a pain in my fucking ass.
Eli suddenly faces me, clearly not convinced, “Really? It didn't look like just work to me. He had his hands all over your ass,” he raises an eyebrow with his accusation.
As he turns back around, I draw a deep breath, trying to keep my temper in check, after the evening I’ve had.
“Neither did that girl. How old was she?” I tilt my head to the side my question laced with suspicion.
He suddenly snaps, his voice filled with bubbling anger. “Fuck off, Noir.”
I narrow my eyes, scanning him more intently and I continue to press, the unease in my gut growing. “You're into younger chicks now?”
He suddenly turns, pointing the knife in my direction and my body tenses. His eyes are cold, his teeth clenched as he bites on his words. “I said fuck off!”
I stare at him blankly, masking the turmoil inside me. This reaction is so unlike Eli. He's usually so kind and sweet, but now he seems like I am looking at a stranger. We've only known each other for four months, confined to a truck, but is this who he truly is when we're living together? His entire demeanor has changed since we came here.
The silence stretches, heavy and uncomfortable, yet I know I need to make my feelings clear, “Don't worry, E, you're not bound to me. You can do what the fuck you want.” I say coldly.
I take a step forward, my dark gaze unwavering. “But let me make one thing clear. If I find out she's underage, I will take your fucking balls off and replace your eyeballs with them.”
My voice is steady, showing him a side of me he’s never seen since he gave me the same courtesy. “I don't like child abusers,” I declare through clenched teeth.
He stares at me, his eyes scanning mine as I lean over, unfazed by the knife in his hand and take a chopped raw carrot off the counter and pop it into my mouth. As I draw back, he turns away, showing me his back.
I chew on the carrot, closing my eyes, trying to reclaim my inner peace, to push away the shadows of the past that threaten to overwhelm me. The room is thick with tension, the silence oppressive.
When I open my eyes once more, I watch him for a little longer, then turn and head to the bedroom. As I close the doorbehind me, I lean against it, taking a moment to gather my thoughts before heading for bed.
It's way past midnight, and I am lying in bed, staring up at the dark ceiling. Eli snores beside me, loud and untamed, making it impossible to sleep. My mind races, churning over the past, the present, Eli, and the future.
After what feels like an eternity, I gently draw the duvet back and sit up, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. Without waking Eli, I quietly sneak out of the bedroom and head to the living room. I grab my hoodie and sneakers before slipping them on, then head for the door.
Stepping out of my trailer, the cold night wraps around me like an icy cloak. I gently close the door behind me, pulling my hoodie over my head and shoving my hands deep into my pockets for warmth. Once I feel prepared, I head toward the main carnival, eager to explore it.
