The man approaches me, grabs me by my elbow, and roughly pulls me from the chair. He starts dragging me in the direction of the bedroom, and I try my best to keep up with the pace he set. I can see a smirk tug on the corner of his lips, and my heart sinks to my feet.
Not again.
He pushes me into the room, leaving the door slightly ajar. I back up, trying my best to create some distance between us, but in two quick steps, he closes the distance. The wicked gleam in his eyes makes me swallow thickly, and I know what’s in store for me.
His hand gently traces the contour of my collarbone, taunting me. In one swift motion, he rips my shirt open, and I close my eyes. They never go too far, just enough to scare me. To make me wonder just how far they’ll go, just how much of my sanity they’ll strip away.
His hands are all over me, and I’m paralyzed. My mind wanders off, and I dissociate. It’s something I learned to do on command, because otherwise, these people would’ve won. They would’ve seen me crumble, cry, and scream for them to stop.
Instead, it’s calm.
All I can think of in these situations is Arlo. His laugh, that damned tooth gem that looks so perfect on him. The memories we created together flood my brain, from the time I met him in prison to the time I bleached his hair. All of it tugs on my heartstrings, and I’m praying I live long enough to see him again.
Even if I die some day, I want it to be next to him. In his arms, where I feel the safest. My personal Heaven, the reason I’m trying my best to stay alive.
“Silent, huh?” Cam’s voice reaches me, yet I can’t bring myself to respond. “Maybe I should actually fuck you one of these days. That ought to get a reaction out of you, huh?”
When I don’t respond, he chuckles. His hands drop frommy body, and he steps back. His eyes linger on my bare upper body, and it’s disgusting the way he looks at me. Then again, I’ve been through so much worse before I went to prison — I can definitely handle this.
“Sleep. Simmons will come soon.’’
That snaps me out of the trance. Before I can ask anything, Cam leaves the room, and I hear the sound of the door locking behind him. Questions start running through my head, and a sense of dread fills me. I haven’t seen the motherfucker in too long, yet the fear slowly starts creeping up my body. It’s always been there, hiding, waiting for him to reappear.
With a deep breath, I try to cover myself with the torn-up shirt, then realize it’s useless. Slowly, I climb onto the mattress, pulling the duvet up to my chin, curling into a ball underneath.
My eyes close, and the tears flow freely down my face.
The violation, the humiliation they’ve been putting me through are slowly starting to get to me. I grew thicker skin, but it’s still not enough. Anyone would break in a situation like this, and I’m no exception. I just don’t let them see it. Because the moment they see it, it won’t matter what they do; they will have already won.
The moonlight shines through the wide window, falling right onto the corner of the room. I’m not sure what time it is, but I’d say between midnight and two in the morning, by the position of the moon. My eyes fall on the far corner of the room, the duvet covering everything but my eyes.
And there he is.
He’s sitting on the floor, knees lifted up, his arms resting on his knees. The rings I’m so accustomed to seeing are there,shining slightly. The turtleneck suits him perfectly, the white hair falling just down his nape.
“You’re here,” I murmur, careful not to stir too much.
“Aren’t I here every night?”
That voice soothes the ache in my chest. The deep, yet uncharacteristically soft sound reaches my ears, the most calming lullaby for my depraved soul. Arlo lifts a brow as he stares at me, the piercing eyes making my breath hitch.
Underneath the duvet, my fingers start twitching. I’m itching to touch him, to kiss him, to hold him. Just to be closer to him, to smell that signature scent of his, to hear the rumble of his chest as he laughs while hugging me tightly.
“You are,’’ I respond. “I miss you.”
“I know you do, butterfly,’’ his gaze and voice soften even more, and there’s a flick of longing in his eyes. “I miss you too. Every single day.’’
My chest tightens, and the pain shoots through my body. My vision gets blurred from tears, but I quickly wipe them away with trembling hands. I’m scared if I keep my eyes closed for too long, he’ll disappear.
“They’ve made you cry again.” His voice is sharp, cutting through the otherwise silent room. “You do know I’ll kill them all, right?”
“I know,” I whisper, voice cracking.
“I love you, Blair,” Arlo says, and somehow, that makes me cry harder. “I’m coming for you soon. Please, wait just a little bit more.”
“I know you are,” I respond, trying to keep my voice steady. “Hurry up, please.”
The plea reaches him, and his eyes are filled with agony I’ve never seen before. His throat bobs when he swallows thickly, but a look of determination replaces it.
