Aaron: Book Three (Scars 3) (9 page)

Everything here was shit. It should have
been burned to the ground long ago. I sat in the hall, outside of her door,
resting against the fading floral wallpaper. My glass was on the ground next to
me and the bottle next to that was half gone. I’d bolted the door. Why? I could
ask myself all day. Habit, perhaps, or more likely the fact that she would go
ape shit when the drugs wore off and she found herself here again…

And I just
didn’t want to fucking deal with that just yet.

There was a
creak, then a sleepy groan, then silence.

She was awake.

I imagined her
sitting there, looking around her in disbelief.

A thump, then
footsteps coming closer to the door, and finally, “Aaron.”

I stayed quiet.
There was nothing to say to her right now.

“Aaron.” Louder
now.

I tightened my
grip on my glass.

“Aaron!”

There was a
thunk against the door. She must have pounded it with her hands.

“Aaron!”
Rage. All
control was gone. “Aaron! You fucking psychopath.
You motherfucker!
”
That scream must have scraped at her throat. Her hands banged relentlessly and
hopelessly at the wood of the door. “Let me out. Let me out now! I’m going to
kill you. You hear that? I’m going to cut you up, I’m going to cut your
goddamned cock off and leave you out in the woods to die the slowest death. You
evil piece of shit.”  Her words were tighter now and more controlled. “I’m
going to hurt you, Aaron. I’m going to hurt you beyond belief. You should never
have been born. It should have been your father who killed you and not the
other way around.” Her voice was a rasp and it didn’t sound like it belonged to
her. It was demon like and menacing.

I managed to get
to my feet. The alcohol was just catching up with me and each movement felt
thick and clumsy as if I were the one who had been drugged. Steadying myself on
the wall, I made it to the bathroom just in time to vomit up everything that I
had chugged down.

“Fuck.” I rested
there after I had finished and listened carefully. No sounds were coming from
the bedroom. No crying and no screaming.

I managed to
stand again. My head was clearer now and I walked without needing the support
of those decaying walls. I’d left food and water in her room, along with some
spare clothes, and there was a bucket if she needed it. I was being an asshole,
but I just didn’t need the complication of her being out of that room. I needed
to get my head straight and that never happened with her around me.

“I know you’re
there.” Her voice was low.

I paused, the
floor creaking beneath me, and then I continued on my way.

Downstairs, I
had the fire roaring, but it didn’t seem to warm me up. Stopping in the doorway
to the front room, I held onto the door frame to steady myself. The memory
crashed to the front of my brain. Rachel, standing naked.
“I’m not her.”

She’d kept up
that denial for a long time, even as I kept her vulnerable and humiliated,
debasing her and abusing her. She was made of fucking steel. She was stronger
than I could ever have of guessed.

And I…

My eyes squeezed
closed as the memory of my Uncle dead on the floor by my own hand flooded
across my vision.

And I was the pathetic
asshole who had fallen for her and let her manipulate me.

My hands reached
for the bottle‒they were endless in this house‒and shakily poured
another drink. I didn’t need it, but oblivion was the preferable route than to
think about her. When had my life become Rachel? At what moment exactly had she
bewitched me?

She was a warm
body. That was it. At first. I was sure…or was I?

When did it
change from sex to…whatever the hell this was?

No. It was best
that she stayed in the room.

Just like it was
best that I sat down here‒drinking. It was already night. Today was a
write off. Tomorrow I would think and plan, but right now…

I settled myself
in the armchair and proceeded to drink away all my worries and tried to ignore
the ghosts.

But the one that
wouldn’t go away was the naked girl standing in front of the fire.

“I’m not her…”

I’d beaten her,
just like my old man had beaten me, and when she tried to run, I hurt her
again. Not her face though, that damage came when she hit the dirt. Her black
eye and split lip were a familiar sight in this house. My mom, me…that’s what
we saw when we looked in the mirror. That must have been when I began to
soften.

I wasn’t being
smart.

I was being
brutal.

And I enjoyed
it, just like he had.

Do you want me
to act like some pathetic, weak, victim? You want me crying and begging you all
the time? Justify it all you like, but you are the monster here. Everything
you’ve done is unforgiveable, and you don’t even care. You’re a fucking sadist.
You get off on hurting people…

Every word she
spoke was the truth. I’d held her down after that, tightly, on the bed. She
must have thought that I would rape her, because she begged. Was I? The heat of
rage had overcome me and I lost control for those few seconds.

Control was
everything. Without it, I was a dead man, and around her, I kept losing it.

I tried to block
out the vision of her bloodied and swelling face again but it kept haunting me.

What would Luca
do to her?

He’d like her,
because she would keep fighting. She wouldn’t be beaten into submission
immediately. He’d see her as a challenge. Maybe he’d even keep her for months,
until he became bored with her.

Then it would be
likely that he’d kill her. Her usefulness would be gone. I imagined her, nude,
each inch of skin covered in gem colored bruises‒blues and purples
flourishing, others yellowing until replaced with fresh abuse in an endless
cycle of torment.

Would she beg to
die? Would she beg for the end to come swiftly, or would she just be resigned
to dying as a slave like she had lived so much of her life?

I clenched my
teeth at the thought. But I wouldn’t be there to see that. I’d be dead before I
let that happen.

I sat there
until the fire died out. There was no banging or screaming from upstairs. She
was just sitting there and biding her time. What was she thinking? What was she
plotting? Placing my empty glass down, I got to my feet. It was time for sleep.

The whole house
swayed under my drunken unsteadiness and climbing the stairs was a mission in
itself as I clutched onto the balustrade and my nails dug into the paint. Why
the hell was everything green? Green meant spring; it meant life, but there was
no life here. Even crops couldn’t grow on this fucked up piece of land anymore,
and this house, it should burn to the ground. I’d thought it a thousand times
but never had the guts to do it. Using the wall once more to hold me up, I
started past the room in which I’d imprisoned her. I had to stop there, and
placed the flat of my hand against the wood of the door.

Her voice came
suddenly. “I know you’re there, Aaron.” She must have been right on the other
side of the door, listening and waiting.

I stayed quiet.

“You’re making
bad choices. It’s a mistake to lock me away. I’ll get out eventually, and when
I do…”

“Go to bed,
Rachel. It’s late.” I tried to twist my mouth up into a smirk as I said that,
to let her know how little I thought of her words, but it didn’t quite work.
Instead, it came out grave and serious. Not drunk though. That was a miracle.

“Do you want me
to tell you a bedtime story, Aaron?” she asked through the door. “Once upon a
time there was a peasant girl who lived with her mother. Except these weren’t
just ordinary peasants, you see, the girl’s mother was a witch. She could cast
spells over men and have them do pretty much whatever she wanted.

Luckily, or
perhaps, unluckily, the girl inherited this…enchantment, I guess you could call
it. The girl and her mother traveled the land, casting spells and ruining
lives…although don’t feel too sorry for the men who fell for their wiles; most
of those bastards deserved it anyway.”

“What about the
one who killed himself, Rachel, did he deserve it?” I sneered.

She ignored me.
“And then one day, the girl realized that she didn’t want to cast spells
anymore. She didn’t want men to do things for her because at the end of the
day, even if she were the one weaving magic, nothing was free, not really, and
the rewards certainly weren’t worth the pain that these men caused her.

More
importantly, she realized that there was absolutely nothing that she needed men
for. They were amusements, toys, who could give a bit of entertainment for a while
but soon they became boring. They also had nothing that the girl really wanted,
nothing that she needed, and one day she decided, that she didn’t need them at
all and that she would be just fine all by herself. Did you hear that, Aaron? I
don’t need you. I don’t need you at all.”

I slammed my
palm against the door. “Yeah? Well, you need me to help you get out of this
room. That’s one thing you need me for little miss
independent
.”

“You’re drunk.”
I heard the scathing in her voice. “Poor, drunk, abused Aaron. Poor sadistic
little Aaron. Do you drink to block out the memories of what he did to you?”
She laughed. “You’ll let me out, Aaron, because you’re a man and you think with
your cock just like they all do. Even when you were supposed to be hating me
and teaching me a lesson, you still gave into your lust for me and that made
you do stupid things…” she trailed off. “Go to bed, Aaron. It’s late. Go to bed
alone. You’re always alone. That’s what you deserve.”

I heard her
footsteps as she walked away from the door.  I stayed put, even as every urge
in me wanted to wrench open the bolt, yank the door open and push her down onto
the bed and sink my cock into her wet pussy.

I didn’t though.
That would just prove her right.

I left her in
there all night, even as I lay in the cold bed, horny as fuck. I fantasized
about her on me, her hair hanging down as she rode me. And then I imagined her
as a demon, with eyes black and a mouth dripping with blood. That’s what I came
to‒that image of Rachel, the demoness.

I was one sick
fuck, that’s what I kept thinking as my cum exploded over my hand. It wasn’t
enough though, and I really wanted to yank her from that room, strip her naked
then force her down on her knees to take me in her mouth.

Hell, she’d
probably bite off my cock. I laughed at the thought.

In
the morning, I brought her breakfast. “Get back from the door and get on the
bed.” I called through the door. That last thing I needed was her coming at me
with her nails out. Once I’d unlocked the door, it still took me by surprise to
find that she had done as I’d asked. She sat on the bed, leaning against the
wall, with one leg raised and the other dangling from the bed. There was no
fear now, just a casual indifference.

“Here.” I put the tray down on the bed.
Steam rose from the coffee and I kept an eye on it in case she decided to throw
it at my face, but she didn’t move; only her eyes followed me.

“What are you doing?” she asked softly.

“Protecting you.” I stepped back.

“My hero,” she quietly mocked. “My
knight in dark armor. How lucky am I? What’s really going on?”

“You don’t need to know. You just need
to stay put and behave.”

“And if I don’t want to?” Her eyes were
hard now, challenging.

I met her gaze. “I can make you behave,
Rachel. You should know that by now. Don’t piss me off, now’s not the time.”

She stared hard at me then looked away.
“Speaking of piss, you need to empty the bucket.”

I walked over to it and grabbed the
handle before heading for the door.

“You don’t need to lock me away, Aaron.
What are you scared of? That I’ll run, or that someone will steal me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I just don’t
need the distraction right now.” I stepped through the doorway and slammed the
door closed, bolting it firmly in place behind me. Why the fuck did she have to
be so difficult all the time?

After emptying her piss I went
downstairs, only pausing briefly by the door to the basement before continuing
onto the kitchen. Sitting at the table, I pulled out my phone. I’d managed to
change the settings so that it gave a false location in case I was tracked,
just in case Luca had decided to move that quickly. Still, nothing was full
proof.

The only phone calls that I’d missed
were from Antony. He sounded stressed in his messages. Luca was asking him
questions about Andrea and he was freaking out. He was stupid. His brother
would know he was lying. Luca and Antony were worlds apart, but Antony had
surprised me with having the balls to sleep with his brother’s girlfriend or
wife in the first place. Maybe there was hope for him yet.

Luca hadn’t bothered to call me. Was
that a good sign?

Sighing, I collapsed down into a chair
at the kitchen table. I’d acted too hasty. The threat to Rachel…that’s what had
made me behave so irrationally. I should be back in Luca’s circle, observing
and playing my role, while waiting for just the right time to strike…

I’d fucked up, and now was the time to
act. I needed to take Luca out. It would be like cutting the head off a
serpent, the body would fall and collapse and in the confusion, it would be
easy to just disappear and start again.

Every part of me felt tense. I curled my
hands into fists. I felt like punching something. But instead I went outside
and began to chop firewood. It was an easy way to work up a sweat and regain
focus. I stayed out there for about an hour, repeating the same mundane task,
over and over again. The winter sun was out and giving a slight amount of
warmth. For a moment, I considered bringing Rachel out to sit in the sun like I
had the other time we were here.

Even when she was handcuffed so she
couldn’t run, it had seemed so normal to have her right there, watching me
work. If not for the metal around her wrists, we could have been any other
couple.

I slammed the blade of the axe into the
tree stump to keep it sharp before gathering up the firewood.

Would she run again? Her hatred would be
reigniting right now, burning brightly as vengeance grew in her mind. She would
see this as the greatest betrayal. We were supposed to be together, on the same
team, and instead I had made her captive again and taken away all of her power.

Except that wasn’t quite true. She had never
lost that power in the first place.

Once the last load of wood was stacked,
I started up the stairs. This was stupid. I had to let her out. She wasn’t a fucking
doll or a toy. I’d given her freedom before. Hell, I’d even given her a fucking
car and she still hadn’t run.

I paused though, before I could pull
back the bolt and release her. Was I doing the right thing? Then I pulled back
the bolt and opened the door.

She sat on the bed, casual as ever,
except for the eyes: there was hatred there. It was to be expected.

I gave a nod toward the hallway and she
slowly got to her feet and walked past me, taking the lead and heading down the
stairs. The front door was right at the bottom, unlocked and waiting for her.
Her head went in its direction as she stopped in front of it, before twisting
to look at me where I waited on the stairs.

“What games are you playing?”

“I’m not playing any games, Rachel.”
Slowly, I walked down the stairs to join her.

Her mouth twitched. “Maybe they’re not
games to you. Maybe it’s just how your sick little mind works.” She waited
several beats, then walked away from the door and down to the kitchen. I
followed and watched as she began to make herself a cup of coffee. Her movements
betrayed her anger as she slammed canisters and the cup down on the counter and
splashed coffee as she stirred it.

She let the teaspoon fall noisily onto
the counter and then she froze with her head down. Suddenly, with speed, she
grabbed the cup and flung it straight toward my head. She was a bad shot and I
only had to move my head half an inch to avoid it. I heard it smash into the
wall behind me.

“You done with your tantrum?”

She bared her teeth. “Not even close.”

“Okay, come get me when you’re done.” I
strolled out, hands in my pockets. It would infuriate her but that was the plan.
I wanted her anger, not the cold calculation of that girl who was speaking to
me through the door; not that icy demoness.

In the hallway, I came to a stop by the
door that led to the basement. That door hadn’t been opened in years. One day I
would, just not yet. I continued on and went to sit on the porch in the sun.

It wasn’t long before she joined me with
a complete cup of coffee in her hand.

“Is that for me?”

“No.” She took a sip as she sat down on
the step next to me. “You’re fucked up, you know that?”

“Yes.”

We watched the landscape together in
silence. Nothing moved. No birds, not even the wind.

“I want an apology.”

“Fine. I’m sorry.”

“Why did you do it then? To fuck with my
head?”

“Your head’s already fucked. It doesn’t
need any more of my help.”

“That’s not helping, Aaron.”

I sighed. “I need everything to be under
control, including you. It’s just easier with you‒”

“Locked away? Safe in a ‘tower’? This
isn’t a fairytale, Aaron. Happy endings don’t come like that. Besides, it’s
always supposed to be the wicked witch who holds her captive, not the hero.”

“Well, I never said I was the fucking
hero now did I?”

She moved her head to watch me. “Don’t
worry. No one will ever mistake you for one of those,” she said dryly.

Reaching over, I grabbed one of her
wrists, encircling my hand around it. “Where do you want to go?”

Her forehead crinkled. “Go?”

“Where on this planet do you want to go?
Do you want sun, snow, rain, heat, what?”

“Are we running and hiding now?” she
asked after a moment.

“I don’t run and I don’t hide.” I
released her wrist and she rubbed it like I’d hurt her.

“Then why are we back here?”

I flashed her a grin. “I’m regrouping
and preparing for an attack. Luca needs to go. Once that happens there’ll be
chaos, but there will still be people out for my blood and unless I want to look
behind me my whole life, it would be best to have a change of scenery.”

She stared down at the ground. “Why does
he need to go?”

I hesitated before answering. “He
threatened you.”

I watched for her reaction. She kept her
head down so I couldn’t see her face. Her fingers grazed along the rotting wood
and over jagged and splintered edges. “So you’re doing this for me?” Her voice
was little more than a murmur.

“I’m doing this for me. You’re mine and
he threatened to take you.”

She tilted her head up to look at me
through her hair. “At least you’re honest.” Bitterness tinged her words.

I shrugged. “What do you want me to say?
I’m not going to lie to you.”

“And what happens when you grow bored of
me? Will you throw me to the wolves then?” Her pale lips barely moved as she
spoke, but there was a distinct hardness to her words and no hurt this time. It
was more of a…what? A threat? How did I get trapped in this conversation? There
was no way in hell I would tell her that I would never be bored with her, she
was under my skin and in my head. She was like a parasite wriggling around in
me, boring holes and eating me from the inside out. A parasite? No, that was
wrong. She was a fucking goddess‒like one of the Greek ones, who
manipulated and played with humans for their own mere amusement.

Fuck. I ran a hand through my hair. Why
was I thinking something so stupid?

“Want a drink?” I asked abruptly.

“It’s a little early.”

I just laughed at her disapproval.
That
she disapproved of? Of all things? I got to my feet, ignoring her and walked
inside, into the living room with its bourbon waiting for me. After I poured
the drink, I fell back into the armchair and put my feet up on the table. She
had followed quietly, and stood in the doorway before cautiously walking over
to stand in front of the fire‒the place where my Uncle had met his death.
It was his fault. He had that coming. He was taking things too far and didn’t
listen to me. His mind was fucked with the booze by that time anyway. He’d really
been good for nothing at the end.

I smiled up at where she stood, clad in
jeans that hugged her muscular legs and a knit sweater that hid nothing about
her. “Remember when I had you naked and I’d make you stand up there reading
from that stupid diary.” I pointed a finger before taking a drink. “Those were
the days. I swear you and I got on better back then than we do now.”

“One drink and you become an asshole?” She
arched an eyebrow while I laughed.

“I’m always an asshole. You should know
that by now.”

Her lips curved into a crafty smile. She
was about to hit back and I readied myself. “You know what I remember? I
remember how stupid you were. You believed your crazy uncle when he told you
that I was an evil manipulating bitch and that I was the reason behind his
downfall.”

My own smile dropped as I shook my head.
“Not true, plus, he wasn’t all wrong.”

She stared down at me. “You sound like a
petulant child who never admits that he’s the one in the wrong.”

I smirked at her. “The same goes for
you, Rachel. You always end up admitting to being the victim and nothing else.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I’ve paid plenty for
my crimes. I don’t owe anyone anything and I certainly don’t owe you of all
people an explanation.”

“Fuck. I’ve had enough of this. I don’t
want to fight with you. I’m sick of going around and around in circles. What do
you want? What the fuck do you want, Rachel? Do you want to stay or go? I’m not
forcing you to be here. I’ll give you money or whatever you want if you want to
leave, but you need to realize that once you’re away from me, I won’t be able
to protect you. Luca never forgets. He’ll hunt you down just to get to me, and
when he does, you’ll wish that you stayed with the lesser of the two evils.”

“Are you trying to scare me into staying
with you, is that it?”

I shrugged. “Think whatever you want. It
doesn’t matter to me.”

She moved over and crouched down beside
me. “Maybe I should just kill you then. I could kill you and send your head to
Luca. That would solve a lot of my problems.”

“True, but you’d miss me.”

She didn’t return my smile and just kept
watching me with those hard eyes. Abruptly, she stood and moved over to pour
herself a drink. Taking a seat away from me, she stared at the fire as she drank
her bourbon, each of her movements silent like she was a ghost.

And in a way, she was.

She haunted this room as that naked girl
standing by the fire, begging and threatening. But she wasn’t that girl
anymore. I’d had a hand in that, for better or worse.

“What are you going to do with Luca?”
she asked after minutes had passed.

“Get him alone and kill him.”

“How?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“I just want to know. Tell me.” How
could she ask that question in such a soft voice?