1
MALIN
Blood poolsaround my knees as I slam the knife into his chest again. Over and over. He makes gurgling sounds, and his eyes are glassy. But he can still look at me. He still sees me.
He remembered me. He recognized me.
“William?”
My next impaling is more brutal. The knife isn’t exactly perpendicular to the body, making him twitch as it tears skin instead of cleanly slicing through. A strangled cry.
Even though I can see that this is the disciple Leon, his face is morphing to that of Ryan Johnston with every passing second. As if his ghost is beginning to inhabit this man’s body and is slowly rearranging his features to look like the man long dead.
“William, I’m disappointed in you. You need to cleanse your sins away.”
“I’m not William!”I internally shout back.
My knife slams into the man’s face, but it’s all bone, and I don’t hit right to catch an eye or his mouth. My wrist bends at an angle.
I wish I had the chainsaw.
Even so, I don’t stop further rearranging his face until it no longer looks like Ryan’s. Doesn’t look like Leon anymore, either. He doesn’t even look human.
My chest heaves as I let my arms fall to my sides and look at the mess I’ve made. Ryan is still here, though. Always here. Standing over my shoulder. When he reaches out like he has so many times in the past to set his hand on my shoulder, I jerk to the side so he can’t touch me.
“You’re dead.”
I think those words often, needing to remind myself that he’s not here. He can’t actually touch me anymore.
My stomach clenches, and I scowl at myself. I don’t want him to touch me. The room smells of blood, and that’s why my stomach clenches. That’s the only reason.
A door opens. Footsteps approach. I close my eyes to block out the view I have of Leon. Ten years later, and there are still New World Order Temple cultists roaming around like they did nothing wrong.
Ellory’s hands rest on my upper arms. I feel his lips press against the top of my head. “Feel better?”
I nod. I always tell him yes, but the truth is, I don’t ever feel better. I’m stuck in this weird limbo that I don’t understand. Ryan haunts me. My abuser. My rapist. The man who loved me.
My therapist says he didn’t love me. My second therapist says he didn’t love me. All the therapists I’ve had over the last decade say he didn’t love me. Ryan says he loved me. He said he loved me like no one else ever would.
“You’re always going to be mine, William.”
I don’t have the strength to correct him every time. I wish I had. Even in my head, I can’t find the motivation to tell him he’s wrong. I’m not his anymore. And I’m not William.
William left a long time ago. I’m now Malin Van Doren.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Ellory says. I nod. When he puts a little pressure on my arms to help me up, I adjust so I can stand.
I made the mistake of telling my therapist that I wished Ellory would love me like he loves his partner. I wish he’d choose me.
He said I was replacing one inappropriate relationship with another. Ellory is my father figure. I don’t disagree. I suppose he is. He and Avory have been my parental figures since they rescued me from Ryan’s island and freed us all.
That doesn’t change the tight feeling in my chest every time I see them together and the affection between them. I want to feel that again. I want to be important to someone. I want to be loved.
It doesn’t really matter how many times someone tells me it wasn’t love and I wasn’t important to Ryan. As if my age negated everything and made it not real.
They’re right. I was a child. Throughout our entire relationship, I was a child. I understand I was brainwashed, groomed, and made to feel sinful and dirty if I didn’t accept Ryan’s cleansing. Iknowthat it was all inappropriate.
But I was cared for. I had someone who made me their priority every day, all the time. I had clean clothes, a comfortable bed, and all the blankets I could ever ask for. I had more food than most were allowed. Better food. My comfort and my happiness were important to him.
