Ifound some comfort on the ground, curled in a corner beside the bathroom door. It’s been a while since Bunny went in, allowing the tears to crust and fall from my skin before her shouting begins. It jars me from my place, sending me scurrying across the floor to break the locked wood open.
I should have checked for a window, I scold myself. I should have fucking checked! Because I didn’t, she’s in there alone screaming, with who the fuck knows.
I burst in without warning, leaving me no time to grab my blade or them enough to prepare. I come in, fist ready, cocked beneath my jaw, to kill the fucker who has his hands on her, but when I stumble in, it’s just Bunny—just Bunny and her thoughts.
“No! No! No! No! No! No!” she shrieks, palms slapped over her ears, huddled beneath the cooling spray.
Once my heart registers there’s no threat, and indeed, there is no window in the room. I race to her side. Prying her paralyzed muscles away from her face. It takes some force, some strength that I hate to use on her, but I need her to stop screaming before someone calls the cops for some sort of domestic disturbance.
When her hands are no longer protecting her ears, I take hold of her jaw and pull her underneath the ice-cold water,hoping the shock will bring her back to me. It brings me a closed fist instead, slamming right into the corner of my mouth. I swallow the blood and continue to hold her, taking all the punches until her heart rate resembles my own.
Bunny’s eyes never open, whether through exhaustion or fear, I don’t know. Maybe the tears are keeping them shut. Regardless, I pull her from the bathtub anyway, holding her close, keeping her shivering form pressed into me while I walk us back into the main room.
I try my best to ignore the way Bunny sinks into me—her soaking, naked chest on mine. I tell my body that we’re a good guy, that we don’t behave like a fucking animal when someone’s in need.We’re not that fucked up, I think to myself as I drop her gently in the middle of the bed, wrapping her up instantly in the thick blankets to protect her dignity. When she’s tucked, I gift myself a second to look at her, a second to take in the last good thing I have left, and when that second is over, I hide myself in the bathroom, trusting the patter of water hitting the porcelain tub to shield the screams that leave my body.
I get why Bunny lost it in here, only it didn’t take me nearly as long to lose my composure. I break, and when I do, it sends me to my knees. When I found Bunny, her hands were wrapped protectively around her head, muffling any sound that might come in. I’m assuming it’s to keep the voices out—one voice in particular. I wonder what he did to her, what he had donetoher. But that’s not why I scream.
I scream and shout and howl and cry because I think I just realized, just as Bunny did, that no matter what I do, no matter where I go, Ignacio Marone will always be here inside me.
When I have no voice left to give, I crawl beneath the falling water and let it attempt to bring me back to life. A part of me is surprised at its failure, especially given the cold temperature, but the larger part of me expected it. I’m numb.
To pain.
To sensation.
To life.
There’s nothing to bring me back.
Maybe except her.
Dragging myself from the dewy room, I watch the blankets rise and fall with nothing but the moon’s glow giving light. It shines directly across her face, highlighting all her perfect features. Even with the bruising and beatings, Bunny is the prettiest person I’ve ever seen.That’s why he took her.
Marone is a collector of pretty and perfect things. We’re something to admire and to bring envy. And then he likes to break us, not all at once, but over time. He likes to watch the cracks grow until pieces fall away, and then he hands us over to monsters because what use does he have for broken toys?
Broken or not, Bunny is… something otherworldly. The moon is only a testament to that.
Exhaling, I back away from the bed and lower myself onto the floor. I tell myself it’s because I’m dirty. Yes, I scrubbed my skin raw, washing away the blood that will inevitably stain my soul, but my clothes are covered in what remains. I won’t betray Bunny’s permission by lying beside her bare. I won’t do anything without her consent. I tell myself I get on the ground because it’s the right thing to do and not because I can’t stand the way the soft fabric feels on my skin. I don’t mind the floor anyway. I’ve slept on metal and found comfort on stone—carpet will be a cakewalk.
Though sleep tugs away at me, it takes hours until I finally give in, and when I do, there’s nothing but darkness, Marone, and Bunny.
And blood.
Consciousness slowly fades back into me. It starts with a small crack in my lids, taking in the rising sun. The next time, it’s with the sound of creaking, Bunny adjusting herself on the bed. The third time, it's because the door closes a little forcefully. I tell myself to get up then, to make sure we’re safe, but my body refuses, falling back into the darkness. Suddenly, the door slams open, colliding with the wall, and I can’t ignore it any longer.
Fuck! Springing up from my position, I grab the blade I placed beside my head and position it, ready to jab it straight through my attacker’s eye. Hands grip me instead, clearing the haze enough for me to see bright, terrified blue eyes.
“Bun?” I ask, letting the blade swing at my side. “Where were you? Where did you come from?” I ask, heart slowing, “Are you okay?”
Waiting for her response, I reach for the robe covering her, noting how well it wraps against her soft curves. I wonder for a brief moment if outside this hell, she was a different person, someone who enjoyed little luxuries like cotton robes. Would she have ever looked at someone like me? Someone who sleeps with farm animals on dirty, grassy hay bales—someone with nothing but dreams and broken bones.
Would I have ever deserved someone like Bunny? My insecurities want to ask, but then she crashes my train of thought. “Marone came last night while we were sleeping.”
Dread pooling in my stomach, I drop my hands, knowing this little slice of heaven is ruined. “We have to go.” I waste no time collecting our scraps, shoving whatever I can into the pockets of my sweats before throwing on my tattered t-shirt.
“Wait!” Bunny shrieks, eyeing my shirt with disgust. “Stop! Stop!”
Why the fuck would I stop?! He’s here! He knowswe’rehere! The rest of what I can’t fit in my pockets goes into a pillowcase.
