She needed painkillers.
It simply boiled down to that.
And if the only way to get them was to play along, then shewould have to swallow her pride and do it.
Avery sat up, careful to use only her good hand, keeping her other cradled protectively against her chest. She couldn’t afford to jostle it. Even the slightest movement sent sharp bolts of agony darting up and down her entire body.
Maybe she could splint it herself?
It might make him angry, but at least it would help to clear her head a little. If she couldn’t focus and think, then she was never getting out of here. There had to be a way to escape. She couldn’t allow herself to think otherwise, and if she was going to find it, then she had to be able to concentrate.
Walking slowly so as not to move her hand, she went to the toilet and did her business. Since he hadn’t given her any underwear, just a new clean white cotton dress each day, she was able to get things done without causing herself too much additional pain.
There wasn't a lot in the room that was moveable, she thought as she scanned the room. It was mostly just the furniture, and there was no way she was going to be able to break something to get a piece of it to use to make a splint. But there wasn't really anything else. Although he brought her food and wanted to make sure that physically she was as strong as possible so her body could withstand the trauma he intended to put it through, he obviously wasn't as interested in her mental health. There was nothing to do here. No TV or computer or phone—not even some books to read.
He had given her a few toiletries, though.
Maybe there was something she could use there.
She had a toothbrush, a hairbrush, a washcloth, and a single piece of soap.
The soap and the washcloth were useless. The hairbrush was too bulky. But the toothbrush might work. She’d hate not being able to brush her teeth, that little piece of normalcy stopped herfrom completely feeling like a trapped animal in a cage, but who knew how long she’d be able to keep doing it anyway. Eventually, she was going to wind up bed bound and unable to get about. If giving up brushing her teeth saved her a bit of pain by splinting her broken thumb, then it was worth it.
Avery was searching for something to use to secure her broken digit to the firm handle of the toothbrush when she heard the unmistakable sound of the door opening.
He was back.
With a meal or to hurt her again?
She almost couldn’t bring herself to turn around, preferring to hover in blissful ignorance and hope for a little longer.
“Good morning, Avery.”
He always sounded so calm and conversational. She hated that. He should sound like the insane lunatic he really was. It was only fair.
She drew in a deep breath.
It was now or never.
The longer she put this off, the harder it was going to be.
Although this was going to be one of the hardest things she thought she would ever have to do, she knew she had to do it. She had weighed up the pros and cons, and this was the decision she had made.
Avery turned around and dropped down to her knees. The jolt sent pain arrowing through her body, but she did her best to ignore it. Keeping her gaze fixed firmly on the man’s feet, she didn't think she could do this if she looked him in the face. She didn't want to see him looking all smug when he realized he had broken her this quickly. She had thought she would be able to fight for as long as it took. Turned out she couldn’t be more wrong. One broken bone and she was such a quivering mess she was willing to sell her soul to the devil just to get some painkillers.
“I’m sorry for disobeying you,” she said quietly. “I'm sorry that I tried to escape. I'm sorry that I wasn't grateful for your offer of morphine and treatment for my broken bones. I won't do it again. From now on I will be respectful and obedient and appreciative of the things you’ve given me. Please forgive me.” Her voice wobbled a little on the last word, but she’d done it. She’d said it. Now she just had to pray that it worked. That he bought it. That she could outwardly be the meek, compliant girl he wanted, all the while plotting her escape in her head.
The wait for him to respond felt like an eternity.
Avery saw his feet move closer. Each footstep rang with an air of finality.
He hadn’t bought it.
She knew it.
He was never going to ease up on her. He was going to keep breaking her bones without anesthetic and morphine, without him setting the breaks. He was going to torture her, and it was just going to keep getting worse and worse until her body gave up and she died.
A sob was about to come bursting out when a gentle head rested on her head. It caressed her tenderly as though in some weird way he actually cared about her.