“Don’t make me regret uncuffing you,” he says with a low, threatening tone to his voice.
“I won’t.” I’m quick to respond.
“You’re going to have to lie with me though.” He walks to the other side of the bed and lifts the covers. “I’m a light sleeper. Just know that.” He stares at me as he gets in and lies down. “Lie down, Ava. It’s alright; I’m not going to hurt you.”
I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding. My heart swells and shatters in my chest and tears prick at the back of my eyes. But they don’t surface. They never do. Even though this is the first time in a long time that the tears are from a man’s kindness and not his cruelty.
“Thank you,” I whisper. My body stiffens as I realize I haven’t spoken clearly. I clear my throat and look him in the eyes, as he told me to. “Thank you.” I repeat the words with confidence and slowly slide under the sheets. I lie on my back, staring at the ceiling, although I can feel his eyes on me.
I lie still and close my eyes, focusing on my breathing. It’s coming in ragged breaths as I try to calm myself. How odd that my breath is failing me when I believe I may be safe from harm. At least for the moment. The other times, when they rape me, beat me, humiliate me or leave me to starve or lay in filth--those times my breathing is just fine. It’s as it should be. But right now, I don’t know what to think. I’m frightened of the unknown.
My body jolts as a heavy arm settles across my lower belly. Kane drags my body across the bed and into his arms. I struggle to move, to speak, to breathe. I thought he said he wouldn’t hurt me. My body trembles as he kisses my jaw. I keep my eyes closed, although I shouldn’t.
“Sleep well, Ava. I’m here. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” He speaks quietly into my ear, his lips close enough that they just barely touch my skin. His hot breath sends a warmth through my body. As he settles along my side, my entire body relaxes.
An overwhelming urge to sleep suddenly makes everything heavy. For a long while, I listen to Kane’s breathing. It’s steady. The grip his fingers have on my waist loosens. I think he’s fallen asleep.
My eyes slowly open. I don’t dare turn my head. Instead I look at the ceiling, at every imperfection. Time ticks by. I can’t sleep. The bed is heaven on my sore and aching back; the sheets are warm and welcoming. It’s the first time I’ve been allowed to sleep in relative comfort.
But I can’t.
I’ve been given an opportunity. I could run, although I probably wouldn’t get far. Kane could wake up and come find me. But I could kill him. He’s asleep. I’d do it quick. It’d be relatively painless.
Once that’s over I’d have to cut the tracker out of my arm. I thought about doing it before. But they’d know. They’ll know the instant the temperature changes, and then they’ll come for me. I’d have a little time to get a head start, but that might be all I’d need. I could run and hide. My body lifts slowly off the bed without my consent. Kane’s arm drops onto the bed beside me and my eyes dart to his.
He’s still asleep; his breathing is steady and his eyes are closed.
I scoot slowly to the end of the bed and gently lift my body up. I shouldn’t be doing this. This is bad. It’s wrong. I close my eyes as anxiety and fear weigh down my limbs. But I move against them. I hear my feet pad across the wooden floor.
I open my eyes and find myself at the dresser. Staring at his gun. I saw him leave it here earlier. I don’t know why I’ve walked here. I didn’t want to. But maybe I did? I’m so confused. So terrified. But I slowly raise my hand and let my fingers wrap around the metal. My head whips around as I hear Kane move against the sheets. I wait a long while, watching him, anticipating that he’ll wake. He moves to lie on his back, but other than that, he’s still. I watch his chest as I lift the gun, bracing the butt of it and holding it steady as I walk back to the bed.
I look back at Kane with the cold gun in my hand and my finger on the trigger. His broad chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm. He’s at peace. I study his face. His hard jaw is covered in stubble. His plump lips are slightly parted. My heart pangs in my chest. I feel a pull to him, a desire to be at his side. I must be fucked up from everything that’s happened. It’s not right to feel this way, to want to be with someone whose purpose is to torment me. Someone who's only going to ship me off to someone new. Or worse, give me back to them.
I swallow the lump growing my throat and lift the gun. My finger barely reaches the trigger. I have to steady the cold metal with both of my hands. I look past it at Kane’s sleeping form and breathe in and out. Time passes as I stand there, trying to pull the trigger. Trying to set myself free.