And I can say nothing because part of me believes him, and how fucking insane is that? Nothing I do makes sense anymore. I begged him to stay. It sounds crazy, but I just can’t take the solitude, and even though I hate him, his company is better than no one’s.
Then again, thereissomething about him that’salmostcaring. My mind begins to travel down a dark, warped rabbit hole. The thing about people like he and I—our normalistwisted and fucked up. And as ludicrous as this may sound: some bad peopleareactually good. It’s all a luck of the draw, much like being born into royalty. You become a prince due to your lineage, and sometimes you’d prefer to be anything but. It’s the same for criminals, well, some of them. I want to believe Max is one of those people who don’t belong in this world, but are in it merely from inheritance. I want him to be lost because I feel he’s too beautiful to truly be tainted. No, I want him to be lost because what terrifies me is the thought that maybe he really does belong to this darkness, just like I do, and if that is the case then there is nothing I can do to stop where we are heading…What the hell am I saying?
“You okay?” The lull of his deep voice snaps me from my thoughts.
Taking a seat on the edge of the mattress, I shake my head. “I just don’t want you to leave.”
“And for whatever reason, I don’t fucking want to.” He laughs and I find myself becoming lost in the way his eyes light up when he does that. “Fucked up, huh?” he says, his smile quickly fading. And here we sit in an odd silence. Our eyes are locked, and pieces of me know I should break this stare, but a larger part wants to keep looking, digging deeper, hoping I will see something he doesn’t let anyone else see.
He grabs my knee and my gaze breaks from his because I can’t look at him when he touches me like this. The gentle movement of his thumb as it glides over my skin feels too right. It should feel cheap. I want it to feel cheap because this—this, it makes me feel vulnerable.
“Iamsorry, Ava,” he huffs and I look back up at him. “I am…it’s just one of those things I have no control over.” His eyes fall to the floor. “It’s wrong, it is, to take you like this, but in this part of the world it’s business, you understand that? I promise you though, I won’t let anything happen to you. Iwillkeep you safe.”
And my heart does this little flitter because that sounded so sincere. Max’s gaze sweeps the room, stopping on the bed. “Do you need another blanket?”
“Um, no.”God, this is fucking insane. Why am I even having this conversation with him? He is horrible. He is keeping me here…but…the way he touches me. He’s nice. He brings me things. Hecares. Right? That is caring? Why else would you act that way when you don’t have to? I feel like my brain can no longer make sense of a damn thing. Up is down and down is up.Fuck!
I’ve lost myself so deeply within my thoughts that when Max reaches for me, the sudden movement startles me. I panic and jerk away from him, and my back hits the cold wall.
“Chill, Ava. I just wanted to touch you. Just…” His eyes narrow as he reaches out again—cautiously, and swipes a strand of hair from my face. “Fuck.” His head slams back against the wall. “I hate this.”
He silently stares at the floor for a long minute while I sit here wondering how I can convince this man to let me go. Wondering why in the hell I am attracted to him. Why I want to run my fingers through his thick hair. Why I want to strip down to nothing and have him touch me, have him look at me like I’m something he can’t be without. Why do I wantthatvalidation from him?
A short-lived smile flickers over his lips then disappears. He swallows. I swallow.
“I have to…” His gaze trails down to my lips and I know that look. He wants to kiss me. And I want him to, so I do what any normal girl does in a situation similar to this, I lean in, close my eyes, and wait.
“I have to go,” he says. My eyes fly open as he abruptly stands. “I’ll come back though. I promise.” And with that he walks to the door, opens it, and leaves.
Worthless…
I sit on the mattress for a few moments, dumbfounded by what just happened. My heart is in my throat, pounding with an uncomfortable force. Closing my eyes, I try to recall the feel of his hands on my cheek again. I crave his touch and I wonder if it’s because, down here, there is no human touch.No, that’s not it, it’s because I want him. I want him to want me. I want him to fuck me.I imagine what it would be like to have his hands on me, to have him rip my clothes from my body and throw me down on a bed. What it would feel like to have him inside of me, and I realize Ihavelost my mind. I see now how fucked up I really am because the fact that he doesn’t crave me the way I crave him, it makes my chest go all tight. It makes me angry and disappointed all at the same time.
The longer I sit and stare at the door, waiting for him to come back inside, panic sets in. With him gone, I’m once again forced to see the filthy room, the locked door I can’t get out of. Death. That is what this is: the holding room for death.
Sweat pricks my entire body. My breathing grows erratic and every last inch of my skin buzzes with the fear of dying in this room. The walls seem to shrink in on me. The silence so strong I can actuallyhearit. My senses are overwhelmed by the deprivation.
No sound.
No touch.
Nothing to see or do.
I am nothing. I am in a state of absolute nothingness—no longer in existence outside of these four walls. And it is in this moment of despair I realize we are always alone. Even when surrounded by people, it truthfully is no different than this right here. Our bodies are prisons. Our minds a captive no one aside from us will fully understand.Oh, shit. I am losing my mind!
I don’t know why I do it, but I jump up from the bed and run across the room to the door. Screaming for Max, I pound over the wood until the skin on the sides of my palms split open. Blood seeps from the wounds, but I continue to beat over the door. Each hard hit leaves a stamp of blood. I want to feel I have some control in this, even though I know I don’t. I just want him to come back. I just want to see his face. I don’t want to be alone, whether that means sitting with the proverbial devil or not. I beat over the door again and again, screaming until my voice goes hoarse, until I am exhausted and fall to my knees, resting my forehead against the door.
Out of breath, I give into the fact that I am never leaving, and if by any chance of God I do, my sanity’s already gone.
14
Ava
Day 17
Idon’t knowhow long it’s been since Max left me alone. To be honest, the entire concept of time is lost on me now. I don’t need time. It doesn’t matter to someone like me.
I’m lying on the floor, staring at the ceiling, watching the water drip from that goddamn pipe. A rustling sound draws my attention to the side of the room. A tiny field mouse scurries over the shopping bag Max left on the floor. It sits up, running its little hands over its head before taking off again across the room and disappearing behind the toilet. Rolling onto my hands and knees, I make my way to the side of the room and grab the bag, digging through the contents. Jeans, shirts, sweaters, panties, and bras. At the bottom is a hairbrush, some toothpaste and a toothbrush.
