“Take off your shirt,” Gore instructs him, making my breath catch.
And then the eldest brother steps away, allowing me to see Billy, and I feel safer as soon as my eyes land on him, his on mine.
His long fingers work the buttons open down the front of his black shirt, tugging it up and out of the waistband of his slacks when he unfastens the last one. The soft cotton falls open, revealing the ink I couldn’t properly see before, and even in this dull light, I can see it now. It holds my attention as he pushes the shirt back, over his shoulders, letting it fall down his arms, keeping it gathered in the ditch of his elbows, so he can easily pull it back on.
My eyes take him in greedily, running over his smooth, warm skin, goosebumps springing up on his flesh and his own nipples pebbling in the cold. I study his ink. Webs, I realise. The dark, delicate inked lines adorning his left side. My fingertips twitch, wanting to ghost over them, dance across the designs. And even though we are still apart, separated by six feet or so, it feels as though the thick heat of his flesh still warms me as my dark eyes follow the decorations. Tracking each individual line across his brown skin, almost ashen in the dull light of this room.
A sharp breath sucks into my lungs, an involuntary reaction.
Spiders.
Something that feels as though it should be softer, but is bitter and acrid on my tongue, the meaning behind the inking of them. Something I am gentle with,love,now, but was frightened of as a child, innocent creatures I used to pluck the legs off of, letting the bodies writhe into death. Billy helped me learn to love them, stopped me hurting something innocent, the way others always hurt me when I was innocent too.
My breath feels acidic as it splatters through the insides of my lungs with sudden uneven gasps, I feel lightheaded, twitchy, all out of sorts. Up until this very second, I’m not sure I understood, or even really thought about, why our connection was so strong after being apart since we were children, twelve long, hard years without each other.
Because he saved me, even if just for the year we spent together.
And then he left.
He decorated his section of this house with me in mind, he’s inked his skin with things that make him think of me, like the carved critters on his ceiling. There is love for me in everything he does, has done, even when we weren’t together.
He says he loves me, I know I love him.
I am sick.
Sick in the head, sick in the heart, sick in the mind.
Sick in love.
Lovesick.
But this is all moving too fast.
It’s been one day, and now I’m on my knees, agreeing to invisible contracts I don’t understand, with a cult he calls family. I haven’t had any time to think. What if I don’t want this?
“Billy, I-”
He cuts my whisper off with a single shake of his head, panic beginning to well up, choke me from the inside out. The heat inside of me dies, everything cooling, and I shudder, my ears muffling, my eyes feeling glazed, like I’m fighting my way out of my own body, Billy watching me with narrowed eyes. I don’t know what’s about to happen inside this room, and as much as I am submissive to him, I don’t want to do this.
Whatever this is, I don’t want to do it.
Sweat beads along the nape of my neck, a single drop running down my breast bone, slipping beneath the silk fabric of my dress. I glance to my right, seeing only Gore’s back as others surround him, huddled together, their voices low murmurs. I flick my gaze back, turning my head, my chin touching my shoulder, and her eyes are on mine, the only other woman in the room, limp blonde hair, sad blue eyes.
Dolly.
She looked out of it earlier, spacey, not in the room, but she doesn’t look like that anymore. Her features hard, her body standing tall, assertive. My lips part, as if to speak her name, and like she knows, can read something in me I’m not aware I’m sharing, she cocks her head, her soft pink lips pulling up at the corners. It’s not a comforting smile, the gesture, it’sterrifying.
Whatever this is, I don’t want to do it.
“Billy,” swinging my head back around, I say it firmer this time, my voice shaky but louder, hysteria almost, the way his name pops out of my mouth, scraping up my throat. “I don’t w-”
Billy throws himself across the floor, skidding towards me on his knees, closing the distance, the palm of his hand covering my mouth, the side of it tight against my flaring nostrils, fingers digging into my cheek.
I shake my head, claw at his arm, his hand, fingers, trying to dislodge him. The tiles bite into my knees, and I feel the way, asI stretch up straight, my dress straining with the pull, the thin straps cutting into my shoulders.
“Penelope,” Billy says quietly, firmly, making me still on instinct, my breath coming hard and fast against the warm skin of his hand where it blocks my nose. “You promised to trust me, I would never do anything to hurt you,” he coos, soft but violent, the undertone a sharpness he tries to hide. “Physical pain is only temporary.” Those words again, sinking like a knife through my heart.What does that mean?“I will look after you, there’re just a few things we need to do first so you can belong to me forever.” His eyes plead, his words quiet, but I just don’t understand why we can’t just be together, why do I have tobelong.
That word scares me, making me feel like my wings are clipped, gold bars falling around me in a cage formation without a door. I stare at him, my breath still hard, my chest aching with heat where it rises and falls so fast. I want to trust him. And I think, to some degree, I do. But only with my heart. My head is telling me to run, even if running ends in my death, because I don’t understand what’s going on here, and I’m so sure I want to find out.
