My mother isn’t coming. No one is. It’s been weeks. I knew the day would come when I would have to leave this room. I always thought it would happen after the boy was taken. Every time I’m alone in here, I’m scared his father will come back and he won’t be able to protect me anymore.
But he let the boy come back to me with the threat that when he returns, he’ll be taking me for his test.
I can’t help but let the tears fall as I wrap my arms around my chest and try to keep the sobs from ripping from my throat. I can’t blame the boy. He’s kept me safe for so long. But he didn’t listen. He wouldn’t obey his father, and now the monster is going to come for me.
“It’s okay,” I say weakly, although the way my voice croaks, I don’t even know if he can understand me.
He grips my shoulders with both of his hands. It’s a bruising force that snaps me out of the fear of what’s to come and captures my full attention. He’s so close to me, so intense as he stares into my eyes. I don’t think he’s ever touched me before. Not like this, not since the first day when he shielded me. He doesn’t like it when I touch him either. Especially when he has bruises.
He shakes his head, his eyes staying on mine. “React quickly,” he tells me, and his face scrunches and he holds back his own emotions, breathing deeply before looking back at me with remorse. “He stops it if you show how scared you are.”
His eyes pierce mine and I can’t help but nod my head, although I’m not sure what he’s talking about. He’s never told me what happens when he leaves. He’s not the same when he comes back and he likes to be alone, so I give him that space. “Don’t try to be brave and hide it. He’ll only make it worse.”
I stare at him, but I don’t answer. I can’t do this. I need to be strong and not make this harder for him, but I’m terrified.
“Robin!” the boy screams my name, demanding an answer and my obedience, but before I can say anything, the heavy metal door swings open.
My eyes snap open and I struggle to take a breath, quickly sitting up and shoving the suffocating blanket off me. I take a ragged breath and reach up to my shoulders where he was touching me. I swear I can still feel his fingers digging into me.
He was just a boy, but he tried so hard to protect me. I pull my knees into my chest and rest my head on my knees, focusing on breathing. He didn’t deserve the fate he was given.
I lick my dry lips, willing the memories to go away.
It’s been so long since they’ve been this vivid. I know it’s the guilt. I left him there. He took so much of the pain to try to save me. He’s the only reason I could escape, and in return, I left him behind.
Small tears leak from the corners of my eyes, wetting my lashes and landing hard on my silk nightgown. I wipe them away and then reach for the bottle of pills on my nightstand.
I know I need to see someone for this. I can’t keep taking pills just to sleep, just to keep the night terrors from surfacing, but I’m too ashamed to admit it all.
I’m too much of the coward that I was when I was a child.
I take two pills, hoping they’ll help. Last night they didn’t. Hours passed and sleep didn’t come. It only makes the mornings worse, but maybe tonight, it’ll come. I swallow the now room temperature water and set the glass down on the nightstand.
My back and shoulders hurt as I roll over again. I bunch the blanket between my knees and shift on the mattress. It’s the best money can buy, but it can’t soothe my sore body. It can’t lull me into a deep sleep that keeps the nightmares from surfacing.
Nothing can save me.
It’s a weird feeling when you know you’re about to fall asleep. Your body seems to go weightless for just a moment. My limbs turn numb and everything feels heavy. So heavy but like I’m floating, a sweet contradiction that tells me sleep is coming.
I’m conscious of it, fully aware a deep sleep within reach. And that’s when the floor creaks and my body wakes instantly, tense and stiff.
I keep my eyes closed, too afraid to open them. My heart races in my chest, and I’m too scared to move. Maybe it’s all in my head, I tell myself, but the second I do, I hear the floorboards creak again with the heavy weight of someone walking into my bedroom.
My back is to my nightstand, but I know my car alarm is there. My keys are sitting somewhere on it in the dark. I need to move, if for no reason than to make a disturbance. I suck in a breath as I roll my body over, not looking at whoever is here.
I don’t care who it is, I’ll fight them. I won’t go down easy and be a good little victim. I refuse to.
I knock the glass of water over, and it shatters on the floor. At the same time, the bed dips low with the weight of the intruder. I scream out as he grabs me, my fingers grasping at the ceramic cup that holds my keys, my earrings, my lip balm. The rim of the cup brushes along my fingertips as a rag covers my face.
I breathe in once, both of my hands reaching up toward my mouth. My fingers struggle to pry the large hand away, scratching as my muffled screams prove how useless my fight was.
His heavy leg lays over mine, pinning me down as I breathe in again.
Chloroform.
I can smell it, and it’s then that I know I’m fucked.
I struggle until I can’t.
I scream until my throat’s raw.
And when my body finally goes heavy and numb again, that weightless feeling taking over, my eyes roll back and I catch a glimpse of the man.
His eyes.
So gray. Even in the dark of night, I know it's him. The sharp lines of his handsome face are different from those I remember. My hand reaches up, my fingers brushing his rough stubble before falling without my consent.
He’s alive. I will my eyes to stay open for just a bit longer. Just to be sure he’s real.
The boy’s alive. My heart squeezes, and the realization is too much to bear. It shatters my sanity, my composure.
And then the darkness takes over in one slow wave, and all at once, I surrender myself to him.
Chapter 4
Robin Twenty years ago
I’m so used to this room. I don’t know how long it’s been, but I don’t bother to count the days anymore. I don’t hope for Mama to come find me anymore. I know it’s useless now, and it only makes me more upset.
The only solace I have is lying beside me. I speak without thinking, just saying what’s on my mind to break up the silence in the cold room.
“I wish I were a bird.” I blink at the faint light shining through the small window so high up on the cinder block wall. “Then I could fly away.” My voice lowers to nearly a whisper and I turn on the hard ground, facing the boy at my side. I tuck my arm under my head and swallow the lump in my throat as I avoid his gaze. It’s such a serious look in his light gray eyes. I can hardly stand the chill that runs through me.
Some days I think he’s angry with me. I can’t shake the thought that he hates me; that he hates being stuck here with me, both of us helpless and at the hands of his heartless father.