“Is there any way – ”

“No.”

I paused. His tone was absolute. But I wondered if it was because he had considered it, considered keeping me from this fate. I had to believe he had. I had to hope he cared enough about me to ponder it. I had to; because it was the only hope I had of seeing myself out of this situation but a part of me reserved itself for the truth.

“Will you miss me Caleb?” I let my arm circle his waist. I don’t know what prompted it and instantly I tried to pull away. He held me still.

“Yes,” he said simply. The moment I tried to look up at him, he pulled away and turned his back to me, “But it doesn’t change a single thing.” I could tell he believed what he said.

He was closed to me again, I could tell in the way his shoulders squared as he turned to face me again. Caleb lifted the sling from around my neck, and the tingle of pain in my shoulder and collarbone brought me back to the moment, but I still stood there in a trance. After the sling came off, he lifted my nightgown over my head, careful to maneuver around my shoulder. He threw it in the wastebasket. I stood in front of him, wearing only bandages. Tonight he didn’t really look at me the way he did on other nights. There was nothing sexy about me. Tonight he looked at me and there was hardly anything behind his eyes.

He walked back to me. “What’s wrong?” he asked again, but he sounded distracted or dismissive, I didn’t know which – maybe both.

“Nothing,” I said again, solemnly, but I doubted he heard me. He was undoing the bandages around my mid-section, telling me I didn’t really need the bandages to heal my ribs, but that having them in place would remind me not to sit in certain positions or make certain movements. He would replace them when I was done showering. Yes, I thought bitterly, the last thing I wanted was for my ribs to heal improperly.

He put his arms around me as he unwound the bandages, but though my breasts were only inches from his face, his eyes didn’t register that he even noticed. In a strange way, this added to my embarrassment. Apparently, now that everything was out in the open between us there was no need for him to pretend to feel things for me he didn’t. But he said he would miss me. That has to mean something. Doesn’t it?

Once the bandages were off we stared at one another for a moment, as if we both tried to figure out what the other was thinking. Then he walked over to the shower in the corner of the room and turned it on.

He never ran the shower, always the bath, though this was a simple thing for me to understand. I didn’t exactly want to sit in my bath water at the moment either. What I didn’t understand was how he was going to be able to help me wash myself if I was in the shower. I couldn’t really raise my arm above my head to wash my hair, and moving around in general was painful because of my ribs. If this meant he was going to be in the shower with me, I didn’t like the thought of it.

He tested the water and seemed satisfied. I felt his eyes staring me up and down and heat crept up into my face, my entire body blushed. He cleared his throat.

“Why don’t you go ahead and get in this water. I’ll get you the things you need. If you want me, call out for me. I’ll be in the room.”

I nodded as he walked past me, and I stood still until he left the room and the door shut behind him.

The water was warm, and clean, and reassuring on my skin. The shower had multiple heads at varying heights so no part of my body was left open to the air but the pressure wasn’t so hard that it made me wince, but soft and gentle. I let it run all over me, I breathed in the steam and it seemed easier to take in air. I stood for several minutes before I lathered myself up, or at least the parts I could reach.

As I stood, I got lost in thought alone in the shower for the first time in over three weeks. I knew that once I stepped out of the shower, I would begin the hardest journey of my entire life. I would have to save myself. I would have to be strong and smart and brave. I would have to let the other side of me, the ruthless side, take over and this me…would cease to exist.

“Make him love you,” Ruthless Me whispered. “Make it so he can’t live without you. The devil you know.” I felt her growing inside me, bringing with her the insane idea that I actually wielded power with Caleb. I had never tried to ‘use my feminine wiles’ before, but I had certainly been accused of it. What would happen if I actually tried?

The idea of trying to seduce Caleb frightened me, terrified me to the point of physical ache, but also…I wondered if I could. And that positively thrilled me. I wondered if I could bring that bastard to his knees with desire for me. I knew now why he had never fucked me in any conventional way; he needed a virgin.

And if he needed a virgin, then I needed to be anything but that.

Before I could stop myself, I leaned on the shower wall and cried, and cried, and cried.

Just for old time’s sake.

FIFTEEN :

It was out now – the truth. He would never forget the look in her eyes while he told her about his plan to sell her into sexual slavery. What had he expected? That she would understand? Revenge was his purpose. She could not understand that, not yet. It would haunt him forever. One more memory among hundreds that always haunted him. Except, he had always been the victim in those memories. Always the boy and never the man. Now, the kind of man he’d become would haunt him too. Caleb slumped against the bathroom door. He needed a minute, to breathe, to keep from retching, and to deal with the jumble of thoughts tearing him apart. For the first time in recent memory, Caleb wanted something other than revenge. He wanted the girl. He wanted Livvie.

He knew her name now, but it was the least of what he now knew. He knew all kinds of things about her – too much maybe. She wore shapeless clothing to school because she wanted her mother to love her. Her eyes were sad because she knew her mother didn’t.

She had brothers and sisters. She felt responsible for them and jealous of them.

She was funny, and shy, but also fierce and brave.

Her first kiss had been a disaster.

She’d grown up without anyone to protect her.

And no one but Caleb had brought her physical pleasure.

Livvie was a survivor. That much he’d known, but what he hadn’t known was what she’d had to survive. She deserved better. Better than them and certainly better than him.

He’d seen it in her eyes and her manner, but he had tried not to know why. He had wanted her nameless. He wanted to forget she had ever had a past, a history, dreams and hopes and all of those other things that made her…Livvie.

He could hear her crying through the bathroom door and it nearly ripped his heart from his chest. He had done that. He had caused each and every one of her tears and to hiscomplete consternation, they did not make him hard, they made him… profoundly sad. Sadness was an emotion he had not felt in a very, very long time. And back then, he only felt it for himself; he’d never had pity for anyone else, not even the other boys.

Why now? Why her?

An image of her bloody and limp body in that young man’s arms flashed across his mind and he doubled over. She could have died. And Caleb knew he would never forgive himself if that had come to pass. Whatever the reason, he felt something for the girl, something he’d never felt before and couldn’t put into words. He just didn’t know if it mattered. He had told her everything mattered, that everything was very personal, but what did it mean in the grand scheme of everything?

She could no sooner forgive him than he could forgive Narweh. She would never be able to see beyond everything he had done to her. So, in the end, what did it matter? He could never have the girl, so why not his vengeance? Didn't he deserve it?