I nod in understanding. They are truly locking us in here.
But she adds, “You will have dinner tomorrow night with everyone present where they will let you know what is expected of you.”
With that, she leaves and closes the door behind her. We hear a lock, and then her footsteps trail off until there is nothing but silence. Suffocating silence.
I study our surroundings and then look at Emma. She sits on the bed, hugging herself. I walk over and sit beside her.
“Will you sleep with me, Evie?”
I nod. I don’t want to be alone, either. Even though our rooms are connected through a Jack-and-Jill style bathroom, it feels too far to be away from one another. I’d like for us to stick together in this place.
“Mateo won’t let anything happen to us, Emma.” I don't know if I say that to reassure her or myself because right now, I am feeling anything but safe in this palatial prison.
I walk to the bathroom with my toiletries and belongings under my arm to shower. As the water runs, I undress. The images of Jameson just a few hours ago seem like a lifetime away, but I can still smell him on me, and that thought brings me comfort.
I reluctantly step into the shower, not wanting to wash his last memory off me, but I need to freshen up from the trip. I let the hot water warm me up. Even though it is a hundred degrees outside, I feel chilled to the bone. The warmth of the water seepsinto my skin, absorbing the heat and moisture past its protective dermal barrier.
After I’m done, I step out and towel dry my hair. I touch my earring and remember that Jameson is here with me, and that gives me a sense of comfort. Emma is waiting to shower after me. I brush my hair in front of the mirror. I wonder if he can hear me.
“We made it. Emma is in the shower. We have adjoining rooms on the second floor with a bathroom in between, Jack-and-Jill style. Emma wants me to sleep with her tonight, and honestly, she didn’t even have to ask me twice.”
I put some product in my hair, slicking it down. “They locked us in here. They said they will feed us breakfast and lunch here, and then we are to join them for dinner to learn what will be expected of us. I am sure they would love to discipline us if given the chance. I’ll try my best not to cause any trouble.” I pick up the blow-dryer and dry my hair.
I look up to see Emma standing in the doorway of the bathroom, looking at me. I apply some moisturizer to my face, stand, and walk past her returning to the bathroom to brush my teeth. When I step back out, she is braiding her hair where I was just sitting.
“It helps to keep the curls if I do it this way.”
I didn’t ask her, but I feel it, too. There is a need to say something, anything, to make the feeling of normalcy return to our lives. Except this isn’t anything normal. We are locked in a room of the house of an evil man, going to be auctioned off to the highest bidder through a forced marriage all to help Mr. Martinez gain power through our family connections.
Walking over to my bag dropping it to the floor, I start taking things out of my suitcase, standing up pissed. “They took my Kindle, those assholes. I thought maybe I’d get to read, but nope. It’s not like I can access the internet. It would just be to readwhat I had on there. I have a lot of books on there. It would have helped to pass the time.” I throw my head back, fighting the tears that threaten to fall.
Emma shrugs. “Well, that is one thing we have…” I pause, looking around and then back to meet my sister’s eyes, wondering what she means by that comment.
“Plenty of time,” Emma explains. She walks over to the bed, pulling back the covers. She climbs in and pats the side of the bed. “Come on, Evie. We should get a little sleep. Who knows what will happen tomorrow.”
I walk over to the bed and climb in. “The bed is comfortable. I’ll give them that.” I pull the blankets over my chest, and Emma leans into me.
“Good night, Evie.”
I place my head on hers. “Good night, Emma. Maybe when we wake up tomorrow, it will all be just a bad dream.”
I feel someone pulling me. “No, I don’t want to go with you. Please, just stop. You’re hurting me.”
But he just shakes me over and over.
“Evie,” I hear my name being called, and I sit upright in bed in a place I don’t recognize. “Evie, it’s me, Emma. You were having a nightmare.”
I notice a pale light coming through from the window drapery. I lay back down.
“Great, I woke up from one nightmare just to realize I’m living in another one.”
I feel the sweat cooling on my skin as I take a deep breath and count my breathing to stop the anxiety and panic from creepingin. I don’t want Emma to witness it. I’ve always tried to keep it from her.
“Do you have dreams like that a lot?” she asks, and I look over at her.
I bit my lip with worry. “Sometimes, I guess.” I shrug it off, trying to make light of my nightmares. “I haven’t had one in a while.”
I’ve changed, and I think it has a lot to do with Jameson being in my life. He has been there for me, loved me, and made me feel safe. My brother may have saved me from several close encounters, but Jameson saved me from myself. From being in my own head. He gave me the time and patience I needed to learn how to trust someone and relinquish the control that I sought to maintain after I had none with the assault, and later in the situation with Emma’s own abuse.
