He buffed his fingernails on his t-shirt. “I didn’t want to have to be so stern with you, but it seems I don’t have a choice.”
My sniff made his black eyes sharpen. “All I ask of you is politeness, obedience, and eventually your voice. Three things that won’t hurt you or reduce you to something you’re not.”
I shivered at how easily he delivered his terms. How simple he made them sound when they were some of the hardest requests for me.
“You do that, and I’ll be able to keep my distance and treat you kindly. Don’t, and you’ll regret it.”
You’re hiding behind obscurity.
Don’t threaten with vagueness.
Tell me what you’ll do.
Gritting my teeth, I plopped the spoon into the soup and swirled it around. I had no intention of eating. My tongue was a constant reminder of what I’d almost lost by being brave. Elder had made it his mission to heal and cure me. But for what?
It was the not knowing that burrowed like a mole through my mind, bringing dark tunnels of recklessness. Bravery no longer had anything to do with it.
It was a matter of survival.
My previous questions came chugging back on a steam train, railroading me with coal smoke and speed.
What do you want?
Tell me.
Right now.
Tell me you’ll sell me. Hurt me. Use me.
Tell me you’ll free me.
Tell me what you’ll do if I disobey.
Just tell me so I can decide if I want to fight you, obey you, or throw myself off the bow of your ship and end it once and for all.
I wasn’t aware my anger had overflowed physically until the spoon shot from my fingers, splashing green goo all over the pristine table.
My shoulders rolled as I hunched for a beating. It would be a good one. I’d never been allowed at the table for this exact reason. I wasn’t worthy of human tools because I was too dim-witted and merely an animal to be used when it suited its owner.
He called me an animal.
Whatever attraction or pride I thought I’d seen in his gaze was gone now we’d finally been honest.
Elder didn’t move.
The gentle rustle of his black t-shirt was the only noise as he breathed deep and evenly, never taking his eyes off me. “What were you thinking about to warrant wasting your food? Food, I may add, that should be in your stomach to replace everything you’ve lost from being with him.”
I dared to look up, staring, staring at the mess I’d made.
I couldn’t make myself care what would come next. I couldn’t bring myself to bow in apology or beg in forgiveness. The anger that I’d kept locked up so damn tight for years poured from the vault where I’d banished it. The foreign tightness—the strange daredevil baring its teeth inside me—it all embraced me as if to say ‘please never forget again.’
Never let yourself merely exist.
Fight.
Or die.
No more surviving.
No more accepting.
My fingers dug into my palm as my fists squeezed—even my broken hand did its best to curl with rage at how long I’d lived in hell and how much I hated myself for letting it continue.
Why didn’t I kill myself sooner? Why didn’t I kill him sooner?
Because he took every option away!
You tried, remember?
Time already clouded the past, making it seem like I had other options than the truth. It shattered me because it made me even weaker when I’d believed I’d been so strong.
There was nothing you could do.
But now, now it is different, and you will not bow to another.
Not again.
If Elder expected me to serve him, fuck him, and be at his beck and call. I would jump overboard tonight. Not because I had nothing left to give but because I was finally brave enough to say no.
Even if it meant saying no to any more tomorrows or yesterdays.
No more!
Elder murmured, “What’s going on inside that mind of yours?”
I snarled.
He stiffened. “You look as if you want to go back and kill him all over again.” He cocked his head, inspecting my every inhale, exhale, and twitch. “Are you angry that I came back for you? Do you wish I hadn’t, so you could’ve ended your life, rather than face something new?”
You don’t know me.
Get out of my damn head!
“So that’s what this is about. You’re angry.”
I wanted to tear out his eyes at how condescending he made it sound. I was more than just angry. I was rage itself. I was the harbinger of vehemence.
You think you can scare and belittle me?
Wrong.
I’m done with these parlour tricks.
He smiled coldly, no kindness left in his face. “Anger is expected after what you’ve lived through.” He leaned forward, whip sharp and brutal. “But if you think for one fucking moment you can take it out on me, you’ll be severely disappointed.”
My chest rose and fell as I breathed harder than I had in years. My bruised ribs bleated with agony.
“If I didn’t recognise that fire in your gaze, I would think you missed that godforsaken hellhole.”
I froze.
You think I liked being beaten?