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Now, I brush away the webs and uncover one of the most thrilling moments of my life. Feeling the mystery man behind me, touching me expertly, leaving me panting and needy for more. His breath tickling my ear, sending shivers down my spine and making my knees weak. I close my eyes, swaying as I reminisce my favorite memory.
If I lose myself enough, I can feel the phantom hands curving around my hips, his broad chest pressing into my back. My body fitting into his like a puzzle piece.
Ryan has never danced with me like that before. Matter of fact, he’s never danced with me at all.
There was one time Ryan accompanied me to a bar. I had dragged him out to the dance floor, laughing and squealing, buzzed from a few shots of vodka. I moved my body seductively, eyes only for him, and he responded by storming off the dance floor.
Later, he told me I was dancing like a whore and it embarrassed him.
A tear drips from my eye as I finger the shredded material. This was one of the first things he grabbed, scissors in his hands and eyes of a madman. He split the scissors and dragged the sharp end down the dress, over and over as I just watched silently, tears streaming down my face.
I was too scared to scream and fight back. I didn’t want those scissors turned on me.
“River!” Ryan shouts from outside the closet, causing me to jump several feet. Every time I hear his voice, the survivor in me wants to reach into his throat and tear out his voice box. But the poor little girl inside me wants to curl in a ball and hide myself from this cruel fucking world.
Fuck, what’s the goddamn point in even being alive? Maybe I should kill myself. I tip my head back and smile. The thought doesn’t sound so bad. On the contrary, it sounds quite alluring, just like the siren’s voice leading sailors down to their death. I could be that sailor, willingly handing over my life. Fading into blissful silence, nothing but darkness surrounding me. Not the same kind of darkness that’s been my shadow my entire life, but just… nothingness.
I don’t care if there’s a heaven or hell. I don’t care if I become a spirit trapped in this world. Anything is better than this life.
The door slams open, the doorknob nearly cracking against the drywall. I don’t move.
“Where’s Bilby?”
I almost laugh. Did he seriously just now notice the cat missing? Suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Ryan never paid much attention to him anyway. I bring my head down and meet crazed blue eyes. What would his eyes look like full of love and tenderness? Anytime I thought I was finding that in his eyes, it was only the reflection of what a sociopath thought those emotions should look like.
“I gave him back to the shelter,” I lie. God forbid I tell Ryan the cat’s at Amelia’s and he goes looking for him there. There’s several shelters around our city. It’d be easy to say Bilby already got adopted if Ryan was crazy enough to find him. I’d expect him to do something like that just so he could bring the cat back and torture me with him.
His eyes narrow into thin slits. “Why?”
“Because you almost killed him,” I answer b
landly. I’m finding it hard to give him emotion, too. I’m finding it hard to feel it at all. He steps further into the closet, adopting what’s supposed to be an intimidating pose. Widening his stance, he leans towards me with curled fists and looks down his nose at me.
“Did I give you permission to give him away?” he snarls.
I sniff. Dead eyes meet dead eyes. “I didn’t ask.”
The last thing I see before I close my eyes is shock registering on his face, and then instantly morphing into black rage.
I don’t open my eyes again, even when I feel Ryan’s vice grip around my biceps shaking me. I don’t open them when he slams me against the wall, holds my head tightly against my white painted cage much like Billy did when I was bent over that dirty table, and takes me from behind.
He’s lost all sense. He doesn’t care to pretend anymore. Ryan and River are no more. Now it’s just a lunatic and his prisoner.
That means if Ryan is done pretending to play nice, then so am I.
I STARE AT MY PHONE, the screen blurred from the tears in my eyes. Who do I call, who do I call? I could call Mako, but fuck, something inside me just… doesn’t want him to see me like this. I’m ashamed—so ashamed. And Amelia’s pregnant and I’ll be damned if I endanger her and her unborn baby.
I wipe a shaky hand down my face. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Ryan’s going on a rampage. It’s been two more weeks and all he’s done is push me around and constantly rape and sodomize me. Every time I fight back, he fucks harder. I’ve already decided how I want to handle my situation, but I need to be smart.
He’s pissed tonight.
I burnt the casserole, so he made me grab the hot dish from the oven without mitts. Obviously, I dropped the glass casserole dish the second I touched it. The dish broke and the food went flying everywhere.
Tiny cuts and burns cover my hands now. The floor is clean, but Ryan’s temper is still running hotter than the burnt food. I need to get the fuck out of here before he kills me. I’ve never seen him this angry. And I swear to God I’ll kill him before he kills me if he tries tonight.
Before I came up here, I snuck into his office and cut the internet. He’s been raging about it ever since, on the phone with the cable company, having not yet figured out the internet isn’t going to come back on until the cable company sends a guy out. The security cameras are linked to the WiFi, which means the recordings won’t be saved to our Cloud.
