His screams sent me hurtling back to the day I wished I could forget.
“Stop it!” I didn’t care the rack kept me immobile. I didn’t care blood seeped down my wrists from fighting the leather. All I cared about was a silently sobbing Jasmine at Cut’s feet. “Leave her alone!”
Cut breathed hard, swiping away damp hair from his forehead. This lesson had been the worst of them. He’d done everything he could to get me to no longer care he hurt Jasmine. He forced me to stay stoic and calm, hooking my heart rate up to a monitor so he could track my progress.
After the first few lessons, he couldn’t tolerate my lying. He struggled to know if he’d made progress or not.
He hadn’t.
No matter what he did to me, I couldn’t stop what was so natural. I felt what others did. I couldn’t switch it off. How could I when I didn’t know how to control it?
So he’d upped his efforts, forcing me to hunt with him and shoot hapless rabbits and deer. He threatened to hurt Kestrel. He brought Jasmine in to watch. For a time, he didn’t touch her. Just having her there made me work doubly hard.
In every lesson, she never said a word—merely watched me with sad eyes and hugged herself while Cut tried everything for me to mimic his inner calmness. To accept his ruthlessness. To become him in every way possible.
For a while, I willed it to work. I got better at lying, and Cut began to believe he’d ‘cured’ me. But then he hooked me up to the lie detector and heart monitor. And I couldn’t bullshit any longer.
Jasmine didn’t look up as she huddled at my father’s feet. He’d slapped her repeatedly; he’d used his hands rather than blades, forcing me to focus on his mind rather than hers.
Become the predator, not prey.
Embrace ruthlessness, not suffering.
Become the monster, not the victim.
The pinging of the heart machine wouldn’t stop shredding my hope and showing Cut just how hopeless I was. I couldn’t be fixed. It was impossible.
“Please, let her go.”
Cut swiped a handkerchief over his face, looking disgustedly at me. “I’ll let her go when you can learn to control it.”
“I can’t!”
“Youcan!”
“I’m telling you—I can’t!”
As we roared at each other, Jasmine scuttled away. The dust from the barn layered her pink dress, staining her black tights. It was winter and frost decorated the glass, billowing our breath with little plumes of smoke.
Keep him yelling.
The longer I kept him occupied, the more chance Jaz had to escape.
I glared at Jasmine, willing her to get to her feet and run. Run out the door and never come back. She nodded quickly, understanding my silent command.
Cut stormed toward me, grabbing my cheeks and shoving my face toward the out-of-control monitor. I’d always had an irregular heartbeat whenever there was too much emotion to contain. My heart felt others; it was only natural it tried to skip into their beat, to mimic their pulses.
“What the fuck am I going to do with you, Jet? Are you ever going to get better?”
My cheeks couldn’t move beneath his pinching hold; I did my best to speak without spitting. “Yes, I—I promise.”
“I’ve heard you promise before and it never comes true.”
Over his shoulder, I silently cheered as Jasmine shot to her dainty legs and tiptoed toward the double-born doors.So close...keep going.
“What else can I do to make you focus inward and not be so fucking weak all the time?” Cut prodded my chest where my teenage heart thundered. “Tell me, Jethro, so we canend this charade.”
Jasmine’s hands looped around the handle, yanking on the heavy exit.
