7
Aria
There werea lot of ways things could’ve ended back there. I thought I was prepared for whatever happened.
I was so wrong. I’m sort of free, but I don’t know what I’m in the middle of now. It’s the whole reason I’d changed my mind about this arrangement in the first place. I don’t know what’s going to come next. I can’t believe he only wanted to help me back there. There must be something in this for him.
His house isn’t anywhere nearly as nice as I would’ve expected from his family. Everybody knows they have plenty of money, but this is a simple little place. “Come on.” He waves me on after opening the car door for me. When I don’t move fast enough, he takes me by the arm and ushers me along. He’s not very patient.
I wish he could understand what I’m going through. I can’t make my brain catch up to the present moment. All I see is the blood. I hear the screaming. I still feel the terror all through my body, freezing my muscles, making it tough to move my feet.
Yet somehow, I end up inside the house. Looking around, I notice it has basic furnishings—what I would expect from a bachelor who doesn’t really give a damn—a couch, a television, and all the stuff that comes with it. The kitchen is visible from here, and it’s simple but clean. At least he’s not a filthy person.
So, he doesn’t want me here as a housekeeper. It’s a ridiculous thought, and there’s no reason for me to laugh right now, but I can’t hold back a quiet giggle when I think about all the work I put into cleaning the house earlier. I guess the kitchen floor really will need to be mopped again. That makes me giggle again but in a scary sort of way. There’s nothing funny about this, so why am I laughing?
I think I’m losing my mind.
Knox touches my shoulder, and I flinch. The look in his eye is one I don’t like. He’s stormy—that’s the only word I can think of to describe it—like the sky before all hell’s about to break loose. The air feels the way it does before a storm, too. Unsettled. Electric.
He holds his hands up so I can see them. “You don’t have to be afraid of me. I’m not the bad guy here. In the grand scheme of things, I am the bad guy, but not with you. Never with you.”
“I believe you.” And I do. I don’t have to think about it. That doesn’t mean I’m comfortable, though. I’m anything but that right now.
Especially at the sight of the dried blood on his skin. How many times have I wanted to do to Dale everything Knox did—and worse? It’s not that I’m freaked out. It’s how easy it was for Knox to do it. How zoned out he was. How he even seemed to get pleasure from it. That’s what scares me most of all.
He might not want to hurt me, but that doesn’t mean he won’t if he loses control of himself like he did back at the house.
I look down at myself, realizing there’s blood all over me, too. It makes bile rise in my throat. I’m going to lose it. I know I’m going to lose it.
Which is when he steps in. “Come with me. You need to wash up and get those clothes off you.”
I follow without saying a word. Yes, I need a shower, desperately. I have to wash all that filth off me—everything to do with the house, with my life back there. All of it. I’m never going back there, and not only because I know Dale would kill me the second I step foot inside.
I won’t do it. I won’t put myself through that. I’ll do anything so long as nobody degrades me like that again. No more being embarrassed by my bruises. No more sneaking food or sleeping in a cold, dank basement.
The bathroom is bright, almost cheerful. Not what I would expect from a man living by himself. It’s enough to loosen the tightness in my chest and limbs. Knox turns on the shower—a big clawfoot tub—and steps back. “Here you go. Just leave your clothes on the floor, and I’ll throw them in the washer later. I’ll go make you something to eat.”
With that, he’s gone, and I’m glad to be alone for a minute. Now, I don’t have to pretend I feel better than I do. I don’t have him looking at me, wondering what I’m thinking or whether I’m about to lose my shit.
The water is warm enough to loosen me up, though the middle of my back is still sore thanks to the elbow Dale drove into it. I bet he’s regretting that now, and I hope he’s in just as much pain or more. I want him to know how it felt to be me.
I close my eyes, tilting my head back to let the water run over it. My scalp is tender. I know it will be for a day or two. It’s amazing I have any hair at all. I squeeze my eyes tighter as my chin quivers like I’m about to cry.
It’s not Dale I want to cry over. Not the bruises or the blood.
Why didn’t she care? Why didn’t she ever once try to protect me from him? I was her daughter before he was her husband. I’m supposed to be the person who matters most, aren’t I?
But sure, let Dale get what’s coming to him, and she suddenly decides to care. The way she screamed when Knox beat him. She begged him to stop. The woman could barely stand, but she sure as hell wanted to defend her man.
It shouldn’t hurt the way it does. I’ve known for a long time any love she ever felt for me died the minute I got hurt. Before then, I was an athlete headed for great things.
After? All she saw were the bills. I’m not kidding myself. I know it was a lot of money, and I know she had to sacrifice a lot because of my surgeries and therapy and all that.
That was when she started resenting me. I wasn’t her daughter anymore. I was a debt. Between that, the filth I’m sure Dale planted in her head about me, and the booze rotting her brain, I might as well be dead to her.
Now, the feeling’s mutual. It has to be. It’s not so easy for a kid to stop loving their parents, but I stopped loving her a long time ago. I know that now.
All that’s left is getting rid of the guilt. Even with the way she treated me, I can’t help but feel like a bad person. Only bad people don’t love their parents. A tear rolls down my cheek, washed away by the shower spray. She did this. Every time she let him hit me. When she agreed to have me sleep in the basement. When I needed to hand over every penny I earned. When she decided I wasn’t allowed to eat at home anymore.