I sit up, squint through a wave of nausea. The bare mattress beneath me is lumpy and crawling with stains. I swallow and drag my legs over the side of the bed. Standing, my knees wobble, but I guide myself to the window, lean one hand against the glass for support, and peer past the bars. Suddenly, I see too clearly. Stucco walls may block the view of Detroit, but I know exactly where I am. I used to stand in this bedroom’s doorway, so good at being invisible, and watch my mom’s silhouette as she stared out of this window. Graffiti climbs up the neighboring apartment building’s cracked walls, and dozens of barred windows mirror this one.
So, this is what prison looked like from my mother’s eyes.
Home has never felt so sinister.
Aslamwhips my eyes to the door across the room. The muffled sound of cabinets opening and closing hits my ears, and a shaky breath pours out of me. A monster is out there. And yet, I’ve never wanted to escape a room so badly. I can’t be here. I would return to that fucking hotel room before coming back here. But there’s only one way out. Desperation closes my throat, stings my eyes, and spurs me on across the spotted, torn carpet.
I try the knob, but it’s locked from the outside. My knuckles whiten when I bang on the door. “Let me out.” The plea is unsteady. I shut my eyes.I can’t be here. I can’t be here.“Let me the fuck out!”
Silence ticks, ticks, ticks in my ears.
Thenhisvoice slides under the door. “Watch your language, little girl. That’s your room now, so I suggest you use this time to reacquaint yourself with it.”
“This isn’t my fucking room.” I pound on the door, and tears burn my cheeks. “Let meout!”
He laughs, a sound quiet but bitter.
Hatred, vile and staggering, floods me with molten flames. I bang on the door again as my mom’s beaten body—black and blue, blue and black—flashes in front of my eyes.Bang. Her brokengoodbyecrushes my chest.Bang, bang, bang, my heart bleeds raw. I was never supposed to come back here. This was my mother’s hell, the place we left behind. Yet I made it easy, so fucking easy, forhimto drag me back.
Breathing hard, I stumble away from the door, away from him.
Stupidgirl.
Stupidlies.
The backs of my knees touch the mattress, and I sink onto it. How was he able to bring me here? There’s no way he’s living in this piece of shit. Did he buy the apartment after my father died? I drag my gaze upward, look at the ceiling fan. My stomach lurches, and, this time, it’s not drug induced. I imagine my dad’s limp body strung up by the fan, and a scream locks tight in my throat.
Did your guilt finally kill you?I silently ask him.Or did you choke on your fucking debts?
A knot forms in my chest.
How could you do it?How could you sell me?My eyes shut, lungs constrict, and I struggle to inhale. It’s the first time I’ve allowed my thoughts to go there, and now, trapped in the same room as my father’s ghost, it’s all I can think about. Why me? What’s so wrong with me that the only person who wants to keep me isn’t a human at all but a monster?
Dirty.
The word drills into my head without mercy.
Damaged.
Relentless and loud, so loud.
Worthless.
The scream trapped in my throat climbs higher, vibrates on my tongue, and I clench my teeth.Shut up. Shut up. SHUT UP.Whiskey eyes flicker into my mind. Gentle touches, shared secrets, whispered promises. My airway opens slightly, and I release a slow breath.
Shhh ... You’re okay. You’re safe now. Safe ...
Easton wanted to keep me. He wanted to protect me. I wipe my cheeks, and my hands shake. I wonder if he’s looking for me. I wonder if it even matters. If he manages to find me, could he save me? That’s the thing about monsters: they’re never really gone. For almost five years, I escaped mine, and yet he was always with me—his voice in my head, grip on my throat, and blood on my hands.
My gaze slides to the door, and awareness turns my veins to ice.
I will never be rid of him.
I can’t be saved.
“Knock knock.” As if to prove I’m right, the door opens, andhestands on the threshold. “Comfortable?”
The instinct to look away pulls on my neck like a leash, but I force my gaze to remain on his aquamarine tie. I jump from one gratuitous diamond design to the next in a silent game of hopscotch until I summon the courage to look him in the eyes. I grip the edge of the mattress, heartbeats fast and sharp.
