Page 17

The fear spread through my body like wildfire when she told me she spoke to him about getting me stuff. I don’t want to inconvenience anyone. I don’t deserve kindness, or love, or pretty things. Ruined people don’t get nice things in life, it’s just how it is.

Warming up a meal in the microwave, the sun finally starting to set, I take a place on the comfy couch. I almost disappear into the cushions when I sit down, my plate held above my head so I don’t spill anything on it. Linda made me simple foods, to not upset my malnourished body.

The thought of last night spirals in my mind. The way he looked at me. It was so much different than how fathers’ friends looked at me. He looked at me with pure lust, admiration, and what looked like yearning. Father’s friends just looked at me with lust and evil brewing in their eyes.

I don’t deserve this. This happiness. This pleasure or comfort. I don’t know why he’s tormenting me like this. I spent my years thinking I’d never have a future. I still think I won’t. I just want to be okay.

It takes about ten minutes to remember how to work the TV, finding some ‘chick flick’ as they call it, letting it play as I eat. The last time I watched TV was when Mom was still alive. I cried and cried for hours to watch Strawberry Shortcake. She sat with me for the entire day watching it, cuddled up on our worn-down couch as the night settled.

Once I’m done eating, I set the plate in the sink, returning to my spot on the couch. The sun is all the way down, the lights on the other side of the river shining in, along with the shine of the TV.

Right now, a movie called ‘Mean Girls’ is on, about some girl from Africa named Cady. I like it, it’s funny. I giggle at the scene where Regina puts foot cream on her face. I feel my eyes getting heavy.

Running to the bedroom, I grab the comforter before lying down on the couch to finish my movie. Not shocking that I fell asleep before it ended.

*This book is an advance reader copy and is to not be distributed anywhere. [email protected]*

8

Chapter Eight

Let’s Pretend We’re Numb - XXXTENTACION

Penelope

It’s been three weeks. Three weeks since I’ve seen Riot. Three weeks since that night. I discovered the stairs in the back of the penthouse. I stood in front of that door for twenty minutes. Did I want to leave? If I did, where would I go? I have nothing. Nobody. Being here may not be ideal, but I have everything I could ever need, even if it’s just temporary.

That was a week ago. I heard a noise up there one night that had me shoving the desk against Riot’s bedroom door, effectively locking me inside from whatever or whoever was out there.

Riot did order me stuff. A few days after he left, a man came into the apartment with boxes on top of boxes of clothes of all sizes and colors and styles, and the one thing I was most excited for. A radio. I took it from the man’s hands, dipping my head in a thank you and retreating to my room, sorry, Riot’s room, the boxes of clothes sitting in the foyer.

The radio now goes everywhere with me, playing today’s pop music and sometimes classical or jazz when I want something soothing. It took me days to organize the clothes Dmitri bought. It looks like he bought an entire fucking store with how many boxes there are. I organized everything by size, sealing the boxes with the clothes that are too small, almost feeling ashamed that my body had filled out and I’m not skinny anymore. The clothes that fit me or are too big, sitting in boxes in front of Riot’s wardrobe, not knowing anywhere else to set them.

Linda came by every week, prepping enough meals to feed an army for little ole me. I guess I’m not so little anymore. I’ve filled out everywhere. My cheeks are more chubby, and my stomach has a pudge now. My hips are fuller, giving me an hourglass-like figure with some chub. My boobs grew as well, being around a C cup. My ass got bigger, which honestly I like. My butt is my favorite part of my weight gain. It looks like a magazine model’s butt.

Linda said I look like Aphrodite, the Goddess of sexual love, beauty, and desire. My cheeks turned red as a tomato after hearing it, not being used to getting any type of compliments. I’m yearning for it to be Riot’s compliment, though. Even after not seeing him since that night, my body still remembers every touch and caress. The words of worship he whispered. I wish he would come back.

I’ve gotten better at accepting my changes and my past. I can’t change it, but I’m safe, for now. Linda has started to help me cope, started to help me speak. She’s so much like mom it’s a little uncanny. Being around Linda makes me realize how much I truly miss my mom.

I’ve gotten used to sleeping on the couch instead of the bed, falling asleep while watching movies. The couch is just as soft, if not softer than the bed, so I’m not complaining. Plus, this place creeps me out at night. I always hear noises, so falling asleep with the TV on helps drown out any other noises.

I’ve spent most of my days on the roof. It’s quiet besides my music, which is on all day unless I’m watching TV. I’ve been learning how to swim. I’m still not great, but Linda has been helping me kick my feet and stay afloat for a couple of minutes. She’d also make me huge bowls of ice cream while here. Loaded with all the chocolate, caramel, and sprinkles the bowl could hold.

It’s mid-September. A blanket wraps around me while I sit on the ledge of the roof watching the sun go down, music echoing off the buildings from my little radio. The buildings are so close that if I turn it up enough, it bounces off the buildings and echoes through the air. I keep it loud, it helps keep my thoughts at bay. My father liked loud music, and it made me hate loud things, but this is different. His music was loud and angry, mine is loud and catchy. I’m in control of this volume, I’m in control of what music blares out. I’m the one in control for once.

Once the sun is fully set, after watching the city light up, I carefully get off the ledge, grabbing my radio and turning it off before walking to the elevator, ready to heat up dinner and go to bed. I’m tired of being tired, tired of being bored. Tired of being trapped. I’m tired of living. I don’t know if I mentioned it, but I’m just tired.

My anger isn’t towards Riot, I am a debt that needs to be paid. It’s towards my dad instead. He’s the one who sold me, so I’m angry at him, hoping he’s dead and rotting in that filthy fucking trailer.

Granted, I still hate Riot. He took captive an obviously abused girl and made her life more confusing. My life only got better because I’m no longer touched, and I can live like a queen for as long as he’ll let me. My life won’t get better than this. The sooner I accept that, the sooner I can have some peace.

The elevator doors open, and I’m frozen to the spot at the sight in front of me. Riot stands in the living room, mask on, surrounded by around twenty, twenty-five other men. All their heads snap towards me, and I see the hunger in most of their eyes.

“Who’s this pretty thing?” One of them coos, taking a step towards me as I pull the blanket tighter to me, trying to keep my body out of sight as much as I can. Before the man can speak another word, a loud bang rings throughout the room and I flinch hard at it, my back slamming against the wall behind me. A heavy thud sounds from where the man was standing, and I look over to see him slumped on the ground, blood pooling around his lifeless body. I look at Riot to see a gun in his hand, pointed right at where the man used to stand. His eyes never left mine.

“Nobody speak to her, do not even fucking look at her!” Riot roars, the sound bouncing off the walls and making me wince. All the men look away, knowing they are dead if they didn’t. They all bow their heads, now their shoes are the most interesting thing in the world.

Riot starts to step towards me, and I panic, pressing the roof button. My chest rises and falls quickly as the doors close, bile making its way up my throat. The murderous look behind the mask was enough to make a grown man piss himself.