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It’s still dark. I’m alone again.
The instant I register Nix’s absence, I jump out of bed and run for the door to test the knob. Relief loosens me, and I slump against the door when I find it locked. I never thought I’d be this relieved to know I can’t get out of the room. But now I know there’s a danger out there much worse than either Nix or Colt, or even both of them put together.
It’s barely five o’clock. The sun won’t rise for at least another hour. I should try to go back to sleep, but something tells me it would be a waste of time. Too much adrenaline is pumping through my veins.
That’s a shame, too, since sleep is pretty much the only time I get a reprieve from this.
It’s funny how I immediately look at my laptop when I wonder what I’m supposed to do with my time. It’s not like I can get online.
No, but I can still do something. I don’t know what puts the idea in my head or why my brain latches onto it so suddenly, but I find myself opening the machine and sitting down at my desk. I pull up a blank document, and the cursor blinks at me.
It all started at a party shortly after I moved in, I type. The words come slowly like even my fingers dread the idea of going back through everything that happened.I didn’t want to go to the party, but I didn’t have a choice. While there, Nix and Colt forced me into performing oral sex on Nix while Colt touched me. They recorded it. The video is saved on Colt’s computer.
I typed it, and I’m still alive. The shame didn’t kill me. It didn’t consume me. I’m still here.
The night of my mother’s wedding rehearsal dinner, I continue,I took a painkiller before making the mistake of drinking champagne. I could kick myself for being so stupid.Nix and Colt brought me home. While I was under the influence of these two substances mixed together, Colt had sex with me. He made an audio recording of the encounter and played it for me the following day when I confronted him. The audio was stored in his phone.
It gets easier the more I type. Even describing what’s going on with James isn’t so difficult anymore. Tears occasionally blur my vision, but I wipe them away, more irritated by the distraction than anything else. I have work to do here.
I don’t know what I’m going to do with it or if I’ll do anything at all. I only know somehow I feel better for having typed it all out. Safer, too. As far as I know, nobody has access to my machine yet—and I hope none of them will. Colt wants to keep a file on his machine? I can keep files on mine, too.
By the time I finish detailing everything that went on last night, including when James tried to break into my room, the sun has risen. My fingers are stiff from all the typing—more than I’ve ever done all at once before, but I feel good. Like, somehow, telling the story puts me back in control, at least a little.
That good feeling evaporates at the click of the lock. I turn in my chair, holding my breath. What is it this time? Who is it?
“Hey.” Colt’s carrying a plate in one hand and a bottle of juice tucked under his arm. “I thought you’d be hungry. Figured you wouldn’t want to come down if you didn’t have to.”
“Yeah. Good call.” How can he act like anything between us is even remotely normal? What has to be wrong with a person that they’re able to do that? He and Nix, both.
I don’t have it in me to ask, and I’m too hungry to waste time with questions, anyway.
The toasted bagel sits next to three dollops on the plate: butter, jelly, and cream cheese. A banana and a cup of yogurt round out the meal. I immediately slather the cream cheese and jelly on the bagel and take a big bite. It never occurred to me to wonder if they put anything in the food. Right now, I’m not even sure I care anymore. Whatever they do to me while I’m unconscious, they’re going to do to me while I’m conscious, too. It’s an illusion to think I have any control over any aspect of it. I would probably do better to get rid of that illusion now.
“You know,” I mumble, my mouth full, “I have to ask myself what’s in this for you. Why are you going out of your way?”
“Is making sure you don’t starve to death going out of my way? It’s not like I cooked you a big meal or anything.” He snickers before giving me a wry smirk. “Believe me. You don’t want me to try to cook for you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I peel the banana and take a big bite before the memory of having Colt’s dick in my mouth threatens to sour the entire meal. No. I’m not going to let that happen. I deserve to eat.
“Are you okay?” he asks. “I mean, at least physically?”
“Are you actually asking me that question? Or did your father tell you to ask me?”
“You know what, we don’t have to do this.” He starts to stand, but I make a noise that stops him. I don’t even know why I want to stop him. Am I this desperate for human contact? I guess I must be.
“Physically, I’m fine.”
“It’s easier just to give him what he wants.”
“Easier for who? For me, or for you?”
“I said what I said.” He looks at the floor, one knee jiggling up and down a little. “Do you have any tutoring today?”
“No, actually. My schedule was already clear.”
“Okay. I guess just, you know, let me know if you have another session. Don’t want a bunch of kids failing out of middle school because they couldn’t get a math lesson from you.” He glances up for an instant, and our eyes meet. I find myself wanting to grin, and I can’t understand why.
For the first time, I get the feeling that maybe we’re in this together, somehow. Like this isn’t exactly his idea, either, and he would rather not go through this. Maybe it’s better if I don’t think too much about it. Thinking only leads to more questions, which inevitably leads to more anger and outrage. Outrage over this whole thing happening to begin with.
