He cursed. I jerked. His palm pressed harder on my neck and I could feel the ache in my joints as I curled over, further exposing my naked back to him.
I held onto my sobs. It only made it worse when I moved and I had to stay as still as possible. He’d get mad if I ruined his work.
I knew what was next. My body knew and I couldn’t control the trembling. He punched me in the side and I gasped, falling over then quickly righting myself in position again.
“Stupid bitch. Stay fucking still.”
I felt the slap of the wet material hit the fresh wound. I couldn’t control the cry from escaping. I always cried when he did that. I never could block out the pain.
He laughed, the sound like the screech from a badly played banjo.
Then a filthy, black rag, which tasted like oil was shoved in my mouth so forcefully I gagged.
“Not a sound. I told you. No crying. No moving.” He leaned over me so I could see the evil glare in his light-brown eyes. “Your big brother isn’t around to protect you now, is he? I heard he burned to death.” He shook his head, clucking his tongue. “Real painful way to die.”
I silently cried, trying to block out his voice, yet his words cut into me just as painfully as his knife.
He lowered his voice, his peppered breath sweeping across my face. “A blank canvas. That’s what you were. Not anymore. Now, you’re stained.”
His knife drew some kind of design on my back and then pinpricks as if he was making snowflakes. “The perfect little princess isn’t perfect anymore.” My eyes squeezed shut so hard the tears couldn’t escape. The pungent smell of alcohol hit my flesh and slid into my cuts again. Scotch. It was always scotch. I’d never forget that smell.
His breath hit the side of my neck and I gasped, shivering from the pain and fear that coursed through me. “Did you know I got an A in art? The teacher said I had a unique imagination.”
He suddenly yanked me upward by my hair. “Do you know why you were picked, Georgie?”
I shook my head. He was a senior, and I’d never seen him before last month when he first dragged me into the school’s maintenance shed.
“Didn’t think so. Just consider yourself lucky I didn’t pick you myself.” He ran his finger down between my breasts then chuckled when I squirmed to escape his touch. I heard a bang outside the window at the back of the shed and he stiffened and looked up then laughed. “Stupid boy.” He grabbed my chin, tilting my head at an awkward angle so I was looking right at him. “No telling anyone about our little art session, right? You don’t want to lose another … family member, do you?”
I sobbed, squeezing my eyes shut as I silently prayed for him to let me go.
The sudden splash of scotch hit the fresh wounds. I writhed and jerked and screamed, but it was useless as he held me down. “Do you?”
I shook my head.
He shoved me hard in the back and I fell forward. He untied the belt around my wrists and I heard him slipping the leather back through his belt loops. I waited for the creak of the door to open and close before I yanked the rag out of my mouth and vomited until my sides cramped and I had nothing left.
“Chaos? Come back, love.”
Deck? No, Deck didn’t know Chaos. He’d never know Chaos. I kept that from him. I had to for both our sakes.
But there was a small part of me that wanted him to see me. Instead, he believed in the lie I’d become. How could he think I was that drunk girl who wasted her life away? Because I’d made sure he did. I did everything in my power to hide my lies.
I jerked away from the hands slowly helping me up from lying on the floor. He gently undid the belt then removed the rag and I licked the saliva accumulated around my mouth. I kept my eyes squeezed shut, needing time to pull myself back from the memory. Contain the pain that revisited.
I heard him walk to the far side of the shack, the creak of the metal wall as he leaned against it. He’d stay and watch me like he always did. I didn’t know if he did it to make certain I was okay or because he enjoyed watching me curl in a ball and cry until I had nothing left in me.
Tears for Connor. The brother I’d lost and missed with every breath. Tears for the other girls Robbie had hurt. Tears for Deck. Yeah, I cried for him because I knew behind the unyielding man was pain for what he’d seen in his life.
Emotions drove through me—Guilt. Pain. Rage.
Then finally acceptance.
That was why I needed the purging, to prove I was strong. To let go of the weakness I hated so much. To remember who I was now.
It was a long time before the raw emotions became controlled again and I was able to take a deep breath without the catch in my throat. I felt the release, like a balloon being set free in the wind—freedom. It was euphoric and completely fucked up, but it was my fucked up and what happened here worked for me. I could walk away strong and immune to the nightmare that destroyed who I’d been.
It was my way to tuck my past away in the far corners of my mind, not to be released again until I came here.
I sat up on my heels, hearing the soft tread of his approach before he was carefully applying bandages over the cuts. They weren’t deep, and most likely wouldn’t ever scar me. Robbie had made certain of that, too. Wounds that healed so my back could become a blank canvas again, but my memory would never heal.
I patiently waited for him to finish and then picked up my shirt and slid it over my head. I could smell the scotch. It must have splashed onto the material. I watched his long fingers do up the two buttons at the top and then his thumb came under my chin and raised my head so I’d look at him.