Chapter Twenty-Three
You Can’t See It
Present day, six days later…
They had him chained to the floor, cheek to the cement, tape on his upper and lower eyelids, stuck to his lashes, holding his eyes open.
So Creed saw her when they pushed her down and chained her to the floor six feet away.
At first glance, he thought she was me. Same hair. Same build. Same face shape. Even the same colored eyes.
She wasn’t me.
Daddy held his head down so Creed couldn’t even turn it. The tape held his eyes open so he couldn’t shut the visions away. There was no way he could close out the screams.
No.
He had to watch.
Watch as they ripped her clothes away.
Watch as, for hours, repeatedly, brutally, they raped her.
Watch as she fought the chains, strained, shrieked, begged.
Watch as the blood flowed from between her legs, where the chains gouged into her wrists, her neck, her ankles.
Watch as the fight left her, the light died in her eyes and she lay, her head turned, her gaze locked to Creed’s as they kept at her for hours, one after the other and then back again.
Five of them.
Then they were done.
“You know,” Daddy whispered into Creed’s ear, “you take her, you think to escape me, you know I’ll find you.”
He knew. Daddy had a lot of money. Daddy had a long reach.
Daddy kept talking.
“I’ve tried to talk sense into you but it’s come to this. You’ve already sullied her, taking her virginity. You take her, Tucker, I’ll find you. I’ll bring you both back. You take her, she’ll mean nothing to me. If you take her, I’ll bring you back and I’ll make you watch like you did just now as they do the same to Sylvie. But she’ll be safe if you leave her be.”
This time, Creed didn’t say, “never”.
His eyes forced open, his head still held down, he had no choice but to stare into the girl’s eyes. The girl, so young, maybe seventeen, maybe even sixteen, my hair, my body, bloodied, bruised, violated, the light in her eyes extinguished.
So like me.
So very like me.
He knew, if Daddy would do that to her, he’d do it to me.
Creed’s voice came, weak, raspy, “Promise me.”
Daddy’s hand left his head but she didn’t look away so Creed, now free to move his head, didn’t either. He gave her his gaze, the only thing he had to give, the only thing he had to offer her as even a scrap of comfort as she endured a nightmare.
“Promise?” Daddy asked.
Creed stared at the girl who was almost me.
“She’ll be happy.”
Quickly, Daddy declared, “I promise, Tucker, she’ll be happy.”
“Swear it.”
“You leave, never come back, never phone, never try to see her, I swear. She’ll be happy. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure she’s happy. You come back, phone, ever, ever try to contact her again, she’ll be lying there as that girl is and you’ll be lying right where you are, watching.”
“Just make her happy.”
“I’ll make her happy.”
Creed stared into the girl’s eyes and watched the fresh tear roll over the bridge of her nose, drop and mingle with the blood on the cement by her face.
So me.
So very me.
“Then I’ll leave.”
I shot up in the bed and, not thinking, my skin prickling, cold sweat trickling between my breasts, I jumped to my feet and for some reason hurdled over Creed’s body. My feet landed on the other side of the bed and I bounded to the floor. My foot lifting to run, flee, escape like that girl sixteen years ago was me and I had the chance, one shot, to get away before they destroyed me.
Creed’s arm hooked my waist and I flew backwards, landing in the bed and Creed rolled over me.
“It’s a dream, Sylvie. Just a dream,” he said what he’d said over and over again when I woke up after a dream assaulted me.
“I know those men. I know those men,” I panted, my breath coming fast, sharp, heavy, hurting as it tore up my throat and out of me. “I know them… knew them. Served them beer. Nachos. I knew those men, Creed.”
“Beautiful, what are you –?”
“The men, Richard’s men, those men who Daddy forced you to watch raping that girl who looked like me.”
“Fuck,” he clipped then bit out, “You’re dreaming that shit.”
My hands drove into either side of his hair and held tight. “I knew them. I brought them beers while they watched games on Richard’s huge ass TV.”
“They’re out of your life, Sylvie.”
“I knew them.”
“Baby, they’re gone.”
“I knew them!” I shrieked, Creed stilled then he rolled, sitting up, forcing me to straddle him but his arms clamped tight around me.