Page 16 of Acts of Contrition
It’s morning? Hell, I didn’t even know. I didn’t think to ask.
He places the tray on the bed and bends down by me, observing me. Studying me. He sighs. “I calculated based on your estimated weight — did you know you’re severely underweight for one of your build? Anyway, it appears you are not accustomed to medications or even illegal drugs for it to have hit you this hard. That is my mistake, and I will atone for it. Here.”
Before I realize what’s happening, Thomas picks me up as if I really do weigh nothing and deposits me on the bed.
“Eat. I will return later. If you are still feeling severe effects such as dizziness, our community doctor will see you.”
No. No. No private, community doctors. Not after my stepfather’s “friend” happily removed my reproductive organs without my consent or proper knowledge.
“No,” I say, hating how weak my voice sounds. “No doctor. I’ll be fine.”
Thomas nods, apparently seeing I’m serious. “Good. Because we have to begin your training, and I would prefer to do so immediately.”
I glance at the tray; it holds a bowl of oatmeal with fruit, a cup of what looks like black tea, another of milk, 2 eggs, and some sort of meat. Maybe turkey sausage?
I don’t usually eat this much, but what will happen if I don’t?
I wonder briefly if he’s going to drug me again, but he doesn’t seem like that’s on his agenda. That was only to get mehere. Now that I’m here, it’s clear he wants me alert for whatever he’s going to do to me.
I manage to eat half the plate and finish the tea and half the milk when Thomas returns. My eyes follow him warily as he picks up the tray and glances. My body automatically tenses, sure he’s going to be upset, but why would he give me so much food anyway? If what he said is true and he wants me as his crazy psycho-bride, wouldn’t he be worried if I got fat? I already gained weight since I went on my own.
“Not fond of eggs?” he asks.
I shake my head.
“I expect you to speak when I am asking you a direct question, Diana.” His voice is soft but stern. That’s different. Mike preferred me to be silent.
“No, I just … it’s been a long time since I could eat a lot. That’s all.”
“I see. I will lower the portions and bring you more slowly over your time here with me.”
“Why?” It just slips out and I hate myself. Closing my eyes, I brace myself for a punch or a slap but it doesn’t come.
“Why do I want you toeat?” he says slowly.
Opening my eyes, he watches me as if I am a zoo exhibit he can’t wait to write up a scientific report on.
I nod. “Yes. Why?”
“You are an interesting woman, little sinner. I will return later on.” He turns and leaves without another word, quietly in control of everything.
Even me.
It doesn’t matter if the end result is different, a man still wants to tell me what to do and how to eat, how to live.
What did I ever do to deserve this?
A noise jolts me; apparently the remainder of the drug made me doze off. Immediately I notice my head feels better now and I am no longer dizzy as I sit up.
Thomas has entered the room, standing at the foot of the bed, watching me. I’m not used to this. Not used to being clothed in bed, not used to a man not touching me as he pleases. This is not how I would expect being kidnapped to go.
“Your eyes are clearer,” he comments, his voice soft and deep. “Dizzy?”
I shake my head.
“Speakwhen spoken to,” he commands.
“Not dizzy anymore, um, sir.” Should I be this polite? Should I call him ‘Pastor’ instead? I just want this to be a nightmare, but since it’s reality, I have to do what I can to make it bearable.
