His hand came under my legs and he picked me up, careful not to touch the cuts. I buried my head in the crook of his neck, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to stay awake much longer with all of this pain.
You can let go now, Ava, you’re safe.
I was wrong... so very, very wrong. I hadn’t been free, not since that day. If anything, I’m still locked in that tiny room, not being able to get out. At least, that’s what it felt like inside my head.
“Did you miss me, little butterfly?” he asks, his eyes lighting with a fire behind them. I shiver at the name that he calls me, trying to back away but I have nowhere to go because of the wall that’s behind me.
“W-w-what...”
“Didn’t think you’d see me again, huh?” I shake my head, pushing back against the wall, wishing I could disappear into it.
He’s meant to be in jail, not here with me. My hands start to shake uncontrollably and I place them against the cold bricks, hoping that I can get them under control.
One, two, three... Four, five, six...
“I... I don’t understand,” I whisper, watching as he steps forward, caging me in. His meaty hand rests against the wall beside my head and I suck in a breath at the smell of his cologne, he’s wearing so much that it’s making my head spin.
“I’ve been watching you, little butterfly.” I swallow the lump in my throat, knowing that this is it. “And keeping tabs on you. You didn’t think I’d forget about you, did you?”
No one knows where I am, I now have no cell and no possible way out. I can fight against him but I know it won’t be any use. He stands at least six foot four, he’s as wide as he is tall and is built of pure muscle.
I flinch when he brings his hand to my face, curling his fingers around my neck. “I missed your skin,” he growls, stroking my cheek.
My chest rises and falls faster, panicking.
His other hand trails down to my waist, grasping on to it where he knows the scars are.
The feel of his hand wakes me out of the fog I’ve been drifting into ever since I saw his face again and I try to push him away but he doesn’t budge.
His sinister laugh vibrates through me and I grit my teeth against it. “Well?” he asks, pulling away, but keeping his hands on me. “Did you miss me?”
I frown at him, searching his face. “Are you serious?” I ask, not believin
g what’s coming out of his mouth.
He’s mental, full on, not right in the head. He took me as payment to cover my dad’s debt, he kept me locked in a room in just my underwear for days without anything to eat.
He whipped me, he took a part of me that I thought I’d never get back. He left physical scars on my body that will never go away. He left mental scars which made me feel like I was going crazy.
I’ve spent the last two years recovering from what he did to me, what he took from me, and now that I’m just starting to get back too normal, feeling like myself again, he turns up and brings all those feelings and memories back.
“No,” I whisper, clearing my throat, trying to say it louder. “No, I haven’t missed you.”
I regret saying it as soon as it’s out of my mouth.
His face turns red as he stares at me, his nostrils flaring and his hands grasping at me with a bruising grip.
I clench my jaw against the pain, not willing to show him how much it hurts because I know he’ll like that.
“You been with someone else, little butterfly? Huh?”
“What?” I splutter.
His hand moves from the side of my face and around to the front of my neck, pushing me against the wall as he squeezes. “I told you,” he growls, moving his other hand from my waist and down into the front of my jeans, cupping me roughly.
I gasp from the intrusion and try to squirm away but he holds me tight. I look around, hoping that someone will walk by and help me but it’s so dark and we’re almost halfway down.
No one will see us in here.