Scars: Book One (7 page)

Even
when the water ran cold, I didn’t move. Icy needles hit my skin like I was
outside in nature instead of trapped in this decaying house. The cold was
punishing and cleansing, it felt good. Even when the shivering began, I didn’t
move from my kneeling position. I wondered if I would die like this. If I did,
at least I would be clean.

“What
the hell?”

Aaron
reached over and turned off the water before throwing a towel around me. He
lifted me with ease despite my shivering. He took me swiftly down the stairs
and into the living room. There, he laid me in front of the fire while rubbing
at my skin. “Are you nuts?” he muttered. I almost laughed at the irony of that
comment, but my face was too cold to move. The heat from the fire and his
constant rubbing on my limbs was slowly bringing warmth back to my body, but I
still shivered and struggled to catch my breath.

He
frowned at me then he lifted the long sleeved t-shirt he wore over his head and
grabbed a blanket from off the couch. He pulled me hard up against his body as
he spread the blanket over us. His hands rubbed over me constantly, like pure
force would inject heat back into my bloodstream. That’s how I fell asleep,
with those hands on me.

I
dreamt of a girl in a shower degrading herself; and then Mara and Torrance
stepped over the edge of a cliff, and their bodies turned to skeletons before
they hit the rocks. Their bones shattered into a thousand sharp shards, but
their voices remained.
Come with us Paige, come with us…
I stepped over
the cliff, only I didn’t shatter. I landed with my neck in a noose.

I
woke up with a small cry, and I didn’t know where I was. But when I felt that
one hand was fastened above my head, I remembered. Aaron lay beside me, fast
asleep, but so silent that he obviously didn’t have the same nightmarish
slumber as me.

This
room was larger than the one he kept me in. The wallpaper was the same faded
floral as in the living room, and apart from the dresser with a comb resting on
it, and a cracked mirror, there wasn’t much else besides the double bed we lay
in. My wrist was cable tied to the head board, but the other was free. I
fantasized about reaching over and strangling Aaron as he slept, but reality
told me that I didn’t have the strength for that.

When
he moved in his sleep, it made me jump. But he only rolled over onto his side
so that his back was to me. The blanket fell away as he did so, revealing white
lines of scars crossing his back. They were bright against the tan of his skin.
They were old, and for a moment I was tempted to reach out and touch one.

Instead,
I lay back and stared at the ceiling. I wanted to die last night, I really did.
That kind of desperation was dangerous. I needed some kind of control. I needed
some form of power, no matter how small.

I
thought of my mother. There were so many things I disliked about her,
especially the deceit that lay in her bloodstream alongside her blood cells as
if it were part of her genetic make-up. But she was a survivor. She could
manipulate nearly any situation and place herself as Queen before anyone knew
any better.

I
needed to be like her.

I
turned and stared at my mark. He was yawning and showing signs of waking. This
was when I put my hand against his scars.

He
opened his eyes and twisted his head back to look at me. I slowly removed my
hand from his scarred flesh and then he rolled onto his side to face me.

I
frowned at him. “Who did that to you?” I asked softly.

“It
doesn’t matter.” He raised himself up to rest his head on his hand.

“Oh.”
Then, “Why did you put me in here?”

“Body
heat. You were freezing.”

I
nodded slightly then looked down at my free hand. “Well, thank you. I’ve never
been so cold in my life.” I tugged at my harnessed wrist. “Could I please use
the bathroom?”

He
reached over to the bedside drawers and pulled out a pocket knife which he used
to cut me free. What would I have done if I knew that knife was there? But I
kept my gaze averted; I didn’t want him to know what I was thinking.

I
rubbed my freed wrist and put a smile on my face, not too big so that it would
look natural and convincing. I hadn’t smiled in what felt like forever, and it
felt foreign on my face. When was the last time I had genuinely smiled?

“Why
are you smiling?”

 I
looked up at his frowning face, and I instantly dropped the smile off my lips. “I
just…my wrist was hurting and now it’s free. That’s all. Can I go?”

A
nod of his head sent me straight to the bathroom to relieve myself. I didn’t
bother running for the door or trying to find an escape. There was no point; it
would only enrage him and I doubted he would be so lax with security at this
point. After I had peed, I brushed my teeth and then dragged my fingers through
my matted hair. I tried not to look at the bruising on my face.

I
headed back to his bedroom surprised that he hadn’t come to supervise me. He
lay in the bed, hands behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. He must
have been listening to my movements, but he made no indication that he
registered that I was even there. I grabbed the comb from the dresser and sat
on a small stool. The mirror was large enough to show my upper body. It was so
strange to sit here as I dragged the comb through my hair and stared at my
naked breasts as the reflection caught him in the background. This could have
been any scene of lovers, instead of the sick and twisted reality.

I
held my breath, waiting for him to say something to stop me using his comb. But
he was silent. Finally, my hair resembled something mildly feminine and human
again and I allowed a small smile to myself. I always liked how I looked, and
it always pleased me to see my reflection, as vain as that sounds. Even through
the bruising, I could still see that I was me.

When
my hair was finished, he still hadn’t said anything, although he had changed to
a sitting position as he watched me at the mirror. I replaced the comb on the
dresser and turned to face him.

“Do
you want me to make breakfast?” I asked, cautiously. I needed to eat to keep my
strength up. He got out of bed and dressed while I waited. Then he reached
under the bed and pulled out a bag. Not any bag,
my
bag that was filled
with my stuff. I held my breath as he rummaged through it. Finally, he bundled
something in his hand and launched it at me. I caught it with ease. It was a
black see-through G-string that Finn had bought me for my birthday and I’d
never worn. I didn’t know why I had packed it.

Still,
it was something. I looked at it then back at him. “Can I wear this?”

“Just
for today, so you don’t get pneumonia.” Then he hurled a long sleeved black top
at me. I caught it and wasted no time putting on the clothes. It felt like
Christmas, and I had a hard time keeping a grin from my face in spite of
everything.

“Thank
you,” I said, relishing the feeling of cloth on my skin. I wondered if he would
give me my jeans as well, but he nodded toward the door.

“Let’s
go.”

I
followed him down the stairs and into the kitchen where I scrambled eggs and
made toast while he watched. Like the other times, I waited on the floor until
he had finished, and he gave me his leftovers. I didn’t even care,
I had
clothes
.

Afterward,
I cleaned the kitchen with painstaking perfection. I knew the diary reading
would come next, and I wanted to delay it as long as possible.

“You
trying to be housekeeper of the year or something?” He asked, his irritation
evident.

I
lowered my eyes. “I just wanted to do a good job,” I muttered as I put the
cloth in the sink.

“Come
on.” He waited for me to walk in front. The living room looked even dingier in
the light of day, but the fire was going, and it was warm. We took our places,
and I hesitantly opened the diary to the marked page. I took a breath and began
to read.

‘Rachel
had a date. The boy picked her up. He was one of those jock types with too much
ego for his own good. He was polite to Hannah and myself, but I couldn’t
contain my hostility and quizzed the kid about his plans for the evening. Hannah
tittered about me being overprotective while Rachel looked irritated. After
they had left, I felt annoyed at my feelings. Was it jealousy? Surely not. Not
when the little whore tempted and serviced me daily. I wanted to force her to
her knees in front of the kid and make her take me in her mouth while he
watched, just so he knew who she belonged to.

Hannah
went to bed but I told her that I’d wait up. I sat in the dark and waited, and
God help me, I drank. I haven’t felt the need for a long time, but I sat there
and sipped the whisky while I waited. It was midnight when she got home. I saw
her face in the light, and she looked like a normal girl. The date must have
gone well. The expression on her face was dreamy, and a wide grin stretched
across her pretty little face. But I had to remind myself that she wasn’t a
normal girl.

She
jumped when I spoke, her eyes wide. She wasn’t expecting me.

“Hi.
I–I was just going to bed,” she stuttered.

“Not
yet.”

I
walked over to her and forced her down to her knees. Of course, she didn’t
protest while I fucked her mouth. But I didn’t cum in her, I withdrew so the
ribbons of cum spurted over her head and face. She jolted with the shock of it,
and the look on her face was one of disgust. She tried to disguise it, she
tried to look happy. But I could tell.

“Did
you let that boy do that to you?”

She
shook her head emphatically.

“You’re
lying.”

“I’m
not.”

I
shook my head at her sadly. “You’re such a lying whore. You need to pay for
your sins.”

She
looked scared, but I knew it was all an act. I took her out to the garage so we
wouldn’t be heard. I kept drinking all the while otherwise I would have lost my
nerve. She stayed in bed the next morning. Hannah, oblivious to all, just said
Rachel wasn’t feeling well, as she carried on with her cleaning and humming and
singing. God, I love that woman.

It
ended there. Thank god. And I quietly closed the book and took a step toward
Aaron, placing the book on the table beside his chair.

“Don’t
you feel sorry for her?” I asked softly.

“No.”
He didn’t blink.

“But
he’s hurting her. You must know what that feels like. Someone hurt you, badly
going by those scars–“

“Stop.
Just stop, Rachel. Or I’ll lock you back up in that bedroom.”  He didn’t appear
angry though, everything about him was calm. Still, I decided not to push him.

He
got to his feet. “C’mon. We’re going outside.”

My
eyes widened in alarm. He saw and gave a small grin. “Not to the barn as long
as you behave.”

I
was allowed to wear my jacket outside. It hung down to mid-thigh, and it felt
like another small triumph was achieved. Until he perched me on top of a tree
trunk next to the woodpile and connected a handcuff to my wrist. I was locked
to a misshapen part of the tree that jutted out then joined in again. I wasn’t
going anywhere.

I
watched him as he started to split wood. I half fantasized about taking that
axe and splitting his skull in two. It was a warm in the sun, and soon he shrugged
off his jacket before pulling his top over his head. His skin was golden like
it lived in the sun, or at the very least came from an ancient people who
belonged on the land as if the clay of the earth had leached into their blood
to be proudly displayed in beautiful color. His muscles bunched as he swung the
axe; he was slim but so well formed and cut. The scars on his back stood out
starkly, their twisted tissue forming something like hieroglyphics on his flesh
as if they had a secret to tell.

I
shook my head, forcing away that notion. There were no secrets here. Everything
was abundantly clear to me. I leaned my head back, enjoying the winter sun on
my face and for a moment I could imagine that I was elsewhere. The sound of his
wood chopping ceasing brought me back to reality.

The
axe was firmly embedded in the block. I wouldn’t be getting that out anytime
soon. As he started to gather the wood up, I held up my handcuff.

“Let
me help.” He stopped what he was doing and studied me carefully. “I need some
exercise, let me help.”

He
stood still for a moment, then walked slowly toward me, fishing the key from a
pocket in his jeans. He picked up my wrist and inserted the key in the lock;
then his hand stilled. “Let me make it clear, Rachel. You run, and you won’t be
happy. Got it?”

I
nodded my head, and my wrist was released. I gathered the wood in my arms,
happy to have something to do and ignoring the scratches that the wood made on
my skin. When we both had a pile in our arms, we headed inside with me in
front. I imagined turning with a piece of wood in hand and whacking him over
his head with it. I couldn’t see him not being prepared though; it wouldn’t end
well for me. I heard the door lock behind me as I headed into the living room
and dumped my pile of wood into the basket beside the fire. He followed suit, then
stoked up the fire so it would burn for a long while.

I
sat on the couch while he did that. His top was back on now, covering those
terrible scars. For just a moment, I thought he could pass for someone normal.
Just for a moment though, he was too pretty not to be fucked up.

After
he was finished he turned to me. “Give me the jacket.”

I
fingered the material reluctantly; the jacket felt like armor to me, some kind
of defense against the world. But I didn’t want to piss him off, so I slowly
slid the jacket off my arms and held it out to him. He took it, and then
motioned to the rest of what I was wearing.

I
bit my lip, fingering the edge of the top. “Why do you have to humiliate me
more than you’ve already done?” My voice was small, and I knew my words were
unwise. I waited for his asshole comeback about how I deserved it.

But
all he said was, “I like seeing you naked.”

I
opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out. It didn’t matter though.

“Come
on, Rachel. I’ve made it plenty warm in here for you.” His voice was soft, and
I shifted, uncomfortable under his gaze. Averting my eyes, I slowly lifted my
top over my head. I felt exposed anew and shamed even more. I moved my fingers
down to the string-like waist band of the panties I wore and hesitated.

“You
can keep those on.”

I
let out a sigh of relief, moving my hands in front of me to cover my chest.

“No.”
He moved to kneel in front of where I sat on the couch. His hands gripped my
wrists and slowly pulled them away from my attempt to cover myself. “No. I let
you keep the panties, but you do not cover yourself. You understand?”

I
nodded, and he let go of my hands, and they stayed resting at my side.

He
sat back on his heels.

“How
long did you live here for?” I wondered if he would answer me. But he did.

“Until
I was twelve.” He got to his feet.

“And
then your uncle rescued you? Is that why you’re so hell bent on doing,” I waved
a hand, “this.”

He
gave a smirk. “Wouldn’t you be? If someone saved you from hell?”

I
shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. No one’s ever rescued me.”

He
stared down at me. “If someone came along right now and set you free, are you
telling me that you wouldn’t do anything they asked, that you wouldn’t be so
grateful that–“

“That
I’d do something so cruel?” I lifted my chin and looked him directly in the
eyes. He looked away and turned his back, picking up the diary and tossing it
to me. I stared at it for a moment, feeling the soft leather and wondering how
such a beautifully crafted book could hold such terrible things inside.

“Read
the next entry.” He settled himself in the armchair, while I stood in front of
the fire. It was funny how I felt far more exposed wearing that ridiculous G-string
than by when I was completely naked. Finn had even wrapped it, watching eagerly
as I pulled it out of the paper with one finger hooked through it in disbelief.
I never wore it for him. I told him that I wasn’t a whore for him to dress up
and play with.

I
took a deep breath before I started to read.

“Hannah
had gone out when Rachel finally ventured from her bedroom. She mustn’t have
thought that I was home because her eyes widened in shock when she saw me
waiting for her in the kitchen. She quickly looked away and headed to the
refrigerator to grab out some juice.

I
leaned against the countertop and watched her as I drank my whisky. Her actions
were stiff and nervous.

‘What’s
wrong, sweetheart? With sin comes pain, just remember that next time you decide
to become a whore.”

The
juice spilled on the bench as she poured, and her hands shook. Before she
grabbed for the cloth, I beat her to it, reaching around her and crowding her
so I pressed her into the counter while I soaked up the mess in front of her.
She held still, and I reached up to stroke down her hair. She flinched at my
touch, and that made me grin.

I
reached down and pulled up her robe, putting my hand down the back of her
panties, and I searched for where she was sore from the night before, plunging
my fingers into her with no warning.

She
let out a moan.

“You
act like a whore and I’ll treat you like a whore.” I pushed deeper inside her,
but she stayed still, frozen in place. I heard Hannah’s car pull up then, and
pulled out of Rachel. She wasted no time running to her bedroom while I washed
the blood off my hand just in time for Hannah to call out to me to help her
with the groceries.”

I
bit my lip and closed the book softly. I wanted to hurl it into the fire and
see everything horrible in it licked by flames until it become nothing, like it
had never existed. Instead, I handed it back to Aaron with a shaky hand. In
fact, all of me seemed to be shaking. I made my hands into fists and dug my
nails into my flesh to try and still myself. But it didn’t work. I shook my
head.

“I
can’t be here. I just…I can’t
be
here.” Tears started to run down my
face. “This is too horrible. I have to go home. This can’t be happening to me.”
I fell down to my knees and wrapped my arms firmly around myself to try and
stop that shaking that rattled my bones. It was uncontrollable, and I sunk my
nails into the skin of my arms. There would be blood, but I couldn’t stop it.
The pain felt good, but it didn’t stop the shaking, and I squeezed my eyes
shut. I wondered if I’d die.

Strong
arms lifted me. I felt denim beneath me, and the softness of Aaron’s t-shirt
against my cheek as he cradled me in his lap. His arms wrapped around me and
held me in place while I shook and cried. It seemed like a great amount of time
passed but maybe it was only minutes. Finally, I just lay there against him, so
numb like there were no more tears, but the shaking had stopped.