The Enemy Inside (46 page)

“Jay?” Berg whispered to the figure below her. Nothing. “I need you. Please wake up . . .” She shifted, trying to get comfortable. Her hands were numb—she wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or the too-tight handcuffs. Her arm muscles screamed in protest as she moved, and fatigue and thirst weighed upon her.
 

But nothing weighed as heavily as Leigh’s words. They dragged her under the surface like an anvil.
 

She tried desperately not to think about what Leigh had said.
I’m not broken!
 

But Leigh’s words had started merging with the words her mother had been hissing her whole life, words that were replaced by the increasingly loud voice in her head when her mother was no longer around to hiss them. The all too familiar beliefs came bubbling to the surface, like oil on water.

Suddenly, the lock was thrown back and the heavy metal door swung open. The bright light was switched on, and Leigh sauntered back into the room. “Had a chance to think?” she asked.
 

Berg remained silent.
 

“I don’t mean to be cruel. You have had a less than opportune start to life. None of it was your fault, just as none of this was mine. Nevertheless, that doesn’t change the facts. Your shame and hatred of yourself is like a beacon. You will never be accepted, and you will always attract people who would use and abuse you. You will never live a normal life. Not now. Why keep fighting it?”
 

Berg shook her head in denial.
 

“Men like this will always judge you,” Leigh said, referring to a still unmoving Jay. “You think he’d touch you now? Knowing what you’ve been doing with all those men for all these years?”
 

Berg felt tears once again well up, remembering the night he bolted from her apartment in disgust.
 

“Oh, no. You offered yourself to him didn’t you?” Leigh asked.
 

Berg remained tight-lipped.
 

“You offered him your heart and he rejected it out of hand, didn’t he? Without any thought of just how hard that was for you to do, how much courage it took, or how much trust it required? And then he was repulsed. Is that fair? Of course not! How many women has he fucked? How is what he does any better?” Leigh let the question hang in the air. “He’s a misogynistic pig. You’ve seen it yourself. Yet society feels just in passing judgment on you. You’re a whore, a slut. And this one feels fit to pass judgment on what you’re doing just to get through the pain!” she said, agitated. “Now he doesn’t even want to work with you anymore.”
 

Berg felt herself agreeing, and struggled against it. She wanted to shake her head roughly and feel the evil thoughts spill out and over the floor.
 

“You’ve been trying so long and so hard to resist the darkness haven’t you?” Leigh whispered. “But it’s always there, pulling you down, like quicksand. The more you struggle against it, the quicker it pulls you under . . .”
 

The tears streamed down Berg’s cheeks now, unrestrained.
 

“But it’s too hard, and you know the darkness will eventually win. You can only fight it for so long. Give in, Alicia. It’s not so bad. Stop trying to fit a mold other people set for you. There’s nothing wrong with what you are. You are struggling against your nature. Give in to it and live up to your full potential with me. I will never judge you. You can heal yourself any way you want to. But I have a feeling you won’t need to do that when you’re on the path of true justice with me. You can live free of addiction. You never need to worry what society says about you again. You and I are above them all. We will judge them, as they should be judged!”
 

Berg wished she could cut off her ears so she couldn’t hear anymore. She would have done it with rusty kitchen scissors, gladly, but Leigh kept on speaking, her words penetrating Berg’s skull like bullets.
 

“You can never have a normal relationship with a man. Not after such betrayal at a young age. You can never hope to find anyone who will not judge what you’ve done to survive. Except for me. Because
I
know.
I
understand. You can never be unbroken. I wouldn’t want you to be.”
 

Stepping away, Leigh left the room without another word. As the light clicked off, Berg felt the last of her strength switch off with it.

In the dark for hours, but what felt like days, Berg listened to Jay’s shallow, bubbled breathing without emotion.
 

Why am I struggling to fit in when I so plainly don’t?
 

Why is life this constant internal struggle?
 

Why is everything just so fucking hard, when it looks so easy for everyone else?
 

Why am I pretending to be something I’m not?
 

And all for what—him?
 

Berg touched the darkness in her mind, exploring its depths and feeling its power flood her body and tingle all the way down to the tips of her toes.
 

Why fight it?

Don’t give in!
Her voice pleaded, but she sounded so far away.

The blackness beckoned, pulling her under. Its power sizzled through her body like a lightning bolt, instantly reviving her. Despite its control of her mind, she was surprisingly calm, calmer than she’d been in years. She was finally free of the shame, the guilt. It felt good, right.
 

She started to laugh.

The overhead light flicked on again and Berg looked up. Her mouth and throat burned with thirst, but she now found it easier to ignore. Reveling in her newfound source of energy, her arms didn’t even ache anymore. She faced her jailer with a steady gaze, giving away nothing.
 

It was clear what she had to do now. There was no choice.

Leigh laughed and clapped, recognizing Berg’s transformation. “I welcome you,” she said to the darkness. She stepped over to the shackled Berg, carrying a fresh bottle of water.
 

Berg licked her dry lips as Leigh cracked the bottle open and held it to her eager mouth. She gulped the water until there was nothing left.

Looking like a proud mother, Leigh continued her last conversation as if she had never left. “The best thing people like you and I can hope for is to find a like-minded purpose. Yours can be helping to ensure that other little girls are not broken, too.”

“How can I do that?” Berg asked, interested.

Leigh smiled. “By ridding the streets of the filth that takes innocence away.”

“That’s what the justice system is for.”

Leigh snorted again. “Justice system. That’s an oxymoron. The system doesn’t work, and it certainly has nothing to do with justice. And we know. We work in it. It’s a system that is centered on freeing the guilty and putting the victims on trial. Look at you. Your own mother didn’t believe you. What chance did you ever have in the justice system?”
 

Berg wanted to say her mother was sick, an alcoholic so dependent on men and so terrified of being alone that she could never stand up to them. But somehow the words didn’t come.
 

“Look at the crimes you see every day. It’s just getting worse out there. The offenders get better lawyers, get off on technicalities, and they never pay for what they do. They never face justice, not true justice, the way it should be. They just get away with it—over and over. You know I’m right,” Leigh said. “If we don’t do something, women will keep being victims to these animals. This is the only way . . . this is the only way to ensure Daddy never hurts anyone else again, Alicia.”
 

Berg lowered her head.
 

There was no fury, no anger left in her now, just an eerie calm.
 

Because she knew in her heart Leigh was right.
 

“I know you understand,” Leigh said, now close enough to lightly touch Berg’s shoulder. “You’ve strived so long to fit in, haven’t you? To forget the past and pretend it never happened?”
 

Berg nodded.
 

“You don’t have to anymore. Your past is your blessing. You never need to seek their approval ever again, because you can feel safe in mine. Now you can do what you were made for. You can help other women and make men pay.”

Berg nodded again.

“Here,” Leigh said, unshackling Berg. “I’ve got a gift for you.”
 

Berg rubbed her wrists and wiped her face, watching the last tears she would ever shed fall wetly onto the cold concrete floor and mingle with Jay’s drying blood.
 

“Do you want your gift?” Leigh asked in baby talk, as if asking a child if they wanted candy.
 

Berg nodded.
 

Leigh waved at the prone Jay with her gun. “Here. Have him.”
 

Berg looked at her, confused.
 

“I saved him for you, don’t you see? He can be your christening into your new life.”

“But . . .” Berg looked to Leigh for guidance.

“Don’t disappoint me,” Leigh replied.
 

Berg flinched at her tone.
 

“I didn’t choose you, above all others, for no reason, did I? My faith isn’t misplaced, is it?”
 

Berg shook her head, looking at Jay.
 

“He’s hurt you, yes?”

Berg remembered the Chinese restaurant, how quickly he dismissed her. How he looked at her that night at the sex club and the disgust on his face. How she had given herself to him, only to have him reject her. Oh yes, he had hurt her. She nodded.
 

“Then accept my beautiful gift,” Leigh said, gesturing again to Jay’s inert form.
 

Berg continued rubbing the blood back into her hands, contemplating Jay.
 

Suddenly, from deep inside, a cold, dark rage burst forth with a blinding ferocity. She reared back and slapped Jay hard across the face, watching as his head rocked back from the stunning blow without resistance. Feeling the adrenaline shoot through her body with the blow, Berg struck him again, harder. Then a third time. A fourth.
 

Berg poured all her hate and anger into the devastating blows. Stopping after a time and breathing heavily, she noticed with detached interest that her hand was stinging.

Leigh smiled proudly, bent down and picked up Berg’s small, cold revolver off the ground. Picking up a single bullet, she pushed it into the chamber and passed the weapon to Berg.

Berg took the gun in her tingling hand. Leigh stepped back, standing to Berg’s right, and raised her own weapon, pointing it at Jay’s head. “For insurance, you understand,” she explained. “I trust that you are with me, but I’m not stupid. If you move from that spot or lower the gun, I will kill him myself.”
 

Berg looked at the familiar contours of Jay’s face and then looked down at the gun. Slowly, she raised it so it was pointed at Jay’s forehead.

“That’s it,” Leigh whispered. “Feel how it cleanses you of all the pain . . .”

Berg’s hand shook violently as she cocked the hammer and aimed the revolver at Jay’s bloody face. Her eyes raked over his unconscious form, searching his barely recognizable features for a reason not to give in, not to surrender to the dark with his undeserved murder.
 

Her mind raged.
I can’t do this!
 

His chest rising almost imperceptibly with his shallow breathing, he was still oozing blood from the countless wounds Leigh had taken special care and many days to inflict. Now tight bonds at arms and wrists were the only things keeping him upright in the hard metal chair.

His blank features, usually so animated with joy, were still vaguely, heartbreakingly, familiar under the swelling and bruising from the most recent beating, the one she had participated in.
 

She felt a stab of grief for a moment before pushing it aside with a quick, practiced shrug. She couldn’t afford to feel anything. Not now.