Ricky slips the photograph free before shoving it in front of my face. “Can you tell me what you see in this photo?” My eyes skim across the picture of a body lying on a concrete floor, in what looks to be a warehouse. There’s a slice across his throat, two toes missing, no dick and words scrawled across his chest.
“A dead body.” I say, keeping my eyes on the photo.
“My, my you are clever. And who do you think butchered my dealer?” He asks, tipping his head to the side, awaiting my answer. I move my gaze from the grim photo and stare into Ricky’s eyes as my arms start to go numb.
“How am I supposed to know that?” I say through heavy breaths, the throbbing agony from my wrist sending sharp spikes of pain down my arm.
Ricky huffs in annoyance then slips the photo back inside the folder and hands it over to Nico before stepping back in front of me again, his face now void of any emotion. He’s as dead on the outside as he is on the inside. He shoves his hands inside his trouser pockets, a bored look on his face, then rears his head back.
I don’t even see it coming, his forehead connects with my face and bursts my nose open with force. Blood begins to pour profusely from my nose, the thick liquid trailing over my lips and settling in between my lower teeth. The pain quickly firesthrough my system and tears begin to well in my eyes, but I manage to keep them at bay as the blood continues to pour from my probably fractured nose.
My husband inhales deeply through his nose, a sinister smirk tips his upper lip like he’s proud of himself, but there’s something else there that I can’t quite pinpoint. I used to be able to decipher my husband’s moods, I could tell when he was angry and I knew he would take that anger out on me but this version of my husband is someone I don’t recognise at all which gives him the upper hand.
“Red was always your colour, sweetheart.” He murmurs against my skin before quickly pulling away to walk around me like a predator hunting its prey. His steps are light as he strides in circles around my hanging body, his words surrounding me. “You’ve got quite the reputation in my hell hole, it seems you’ve made a name for yourself.”
“Oh yeah? And what would that be?” I say whilst spitting the blood out of my mouth, it lands with a wet smack on the floor. Ricky follows the trail of blood in disgust before looking back at me, his frame now in front of me again.
“You’re the woman that never cries.” He simply says, and maybe he’s right. In all the time that I’ve been here I’ve never let him see me cry. I spent years of my life crying in front of him, begging him to stop hurting me and I refuse to do that anymore. Ricky will never be worth my hurt, no matter what he brings down on me.
Choosing to keep quiet, I cut the connection between us and turn my head to the side, my eyes staring off into space. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Ricky’s jaw ticking in frustration and I know I’ve touched a nerve by ignoring him, he never did like that.
After a moment of silence, he starts to speak again. “I see you’ve forgotten your place Annabelle, whilst you’ve been here, so this is how it’s going to go. I’ll tell you who butchered my dealer, and then we’ll test that theory of your new name. How’s that? You know I love games, your mother and father found that out the hard way.” He sniggers like the cruel bastard he is.
He’s taunting me, looking to get a rise out of me. The thought of my mother and father succumbing to the hands of Ricky has my teeth grinding together painfully, the throb of my cracked nose still pulsing through my face but I shove the painful memories away into a locked box in my mind, and remind myself that I won’t be broken anymore.
Movement in the corner of my eye has me turning my head slightly to see Ricky grabbing a serrated knife from Nico’s outstretched hand, the blade gleaming under the fluorescent lights. He flips it in his hand a couple of times before catching it with the handle, then he strides back over to me where I keep my eyes trained to the ridges in the floor.
The coldness of the blade caresses my skin as Ricky glides it over my cheek, down the edge of my jaw before sliding it across my neck and I swallow harshly. His icy eyes never leave the trail of the blade as he drags it down my chest with more pressure this time. Immediately, blood begins to bloom under the thin slice and I tremble, fearful of his next move.
Ricky stops at the top of my robe, the tip of the blade inches away from the filthy material. “Your little boyfriend butchered my dealer.” He states, his voice low and dark.
What?
Dean did that?
The photograph instantly flashes behind my eyes. The image of the body lying limp on the dirty floor, the wound in his groinarea where his dick should be, the slice across his throat done with expert precision, the words butchered across his torso as a warning. All of this flashes before my eyes and my chest heaves at the thought of Dean killing this man in an attempt to find me.
He hasn’t picked up a weapon in all the time that I spent with him, and now he’s forced to do the unthinkable and I can’t help but feel that it’s my fault, I sent him to that place he swore he’d never go back to.
I inhale through my throbbing nose and lift my gaze to meet Ricky’s once again. “How do you know it was him? Maybe your guy just wasn’t great at his job.” I say with a snide remark which causes Ricky to dig the tip of the knife further into my skin and I hiss through my teeth at the sharp pain.
“Don’t get cocky with me bitch. I’ll end you right here and now but I need to send a little message of my own. Yourboyfriendis the only one stupid enough to fucking test me, but you better believe my message will have a bigger effect than his ever could.” He spits through gritted teeth, his resolve slipping slightly. It seems Dean has gotten under his skin and it’s a small joy to see.
The blood from the small puncture wound on my chest trails down in thin lines towards the edge of my robe, and I notice Ricky watch the red liquid with intent before slicing straight through the flimsy material with the blade. A gasp slips through my lips as the material falls open at my sides, leaving me bare and vulnerable in front of my husband and Nico. Right away the coldness from the room skims over my bare skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake, my nipples pebbling to sharp points at the sensation, and I feel nothing but embarrassment at this moment to my body’s natural reaction to the cold.
Ricky’s eyes glow with something wicked and evil as he drags the blade down my sternum, the tip skipping over the prominent bones that now protrude from beneath my thin skin. Themoment he drags the blade over my left breast, I turn my face away in shame. In all my life I’ve never felt more degraded in my life, nothing but a fucking toy to play with and taunt. A ball forms in my throat that threatens to spill free but I quickly swallow it down.
“Fuck. Your tits were always my favourite thing about you, but I must admit I’ve seen better. They’re not quite full enough for my liking, and your hips,” he says with disgust as he slips the blade over my frail hips. “They’re still a little too wide aren’t they. I guess you’ll always be that frumpy woman.”
His cruel words stab into that woman who tried every diet under the sun, who wore tight clothes in an attempt to get some attention from a man who would probably never love her. A woman who always stood behind people in photos so she could hide her weight, squeezing herself into moulds that just didn’t fit her.
I know I shouldn’t let his words affect me but I’ll always be reminded of the woman I once was.
Ricky digs the knife into my hip and I yelp in pain, but I can’t tell what hurts more, his words or the physical knife. I guess they’re both just as bad as each other. I flinch backwards as much in the handcuffs as I can when he brings his face to mine, our noses inches from one another and I can smell his favourite whiskey on his breath. The spicy notes tingle through my senses.
“Are you going to cry yet?” He taunts against my skin, his lips brushing over my cheek. “Are you going to cry like the weak little bitch I know you are?”
An anger like I’ve never felt before simmers in my bloodstream, just barely brewing at the surface at his taunting words. Maybe I am ready to cry, maybe I’m ready to cry for myself and everything I’ve fucking endured in this rancid place, but myhusband will never know the satisfaction of that.
