Something for the pain, fuck yes. I offer a half smile, desperate for anything he’s willing to give me. “If you have some Advil, and maybe a whiskey or some sleeping pills?” I ask, knowing I’m pushing my luck, but fuck, I would take anything at this point to block all this shit out.
His brow rises. “I should be punishing you for running from me, not rewarding you with your favorite drink.”
“After the shit you laid on me tonight about Syd, don’t you think I deserve an escape, just a little one?” I flutter my eyelashes, hoping to appear endearing, feeling a sense of desperation as I almost plead for any assistance he’s willing to give. I hate myself for it, but what other choice do I have? My life is in his hands right now.
With a huff and something mumbled under his breath I don’t make out, he stands and leaves the room, leaving me alone and waiting, hoping that when he returns, he will have the goods for me. I’m starting to feel like I’m losing my mind, acting like someone I don’t even recognize. The strong badass chick is nowhere to be seen. I prop myself up in bed, stacking up a couple of pillows behind me so I can inspect his handiwork on my ankle. It’s better than anything I could have done and already feels much more supported.
Orlando comes back into view with a small tumbler of whiskey, two little pills, and a bag of ice. “Advil,” he says, handing me the pills and the whiskey. He moves down to myankle and places the bag of ice over it, making me wince as the cold hits my bruising.
I nod, offering him a half smile, slightly surprised he got me what I wanted. He must feel guilty for how badly I’m injured, even if he’s not willing to say as much. Taking the pills from him, I swallow them down with a chaser of the whiskey. “Thank you,” I say when I realize he’s still watching me. He took care of me tonight. He was kind of sweet, if I don’t count him admitting to watching me with his brother, when he could have been furious with me. Maybe I do have him all wrong. “Orlando, when you call the doctor, will you get my pills for me?” I ask, not far off begging him at this point.
He gives me a slow once-over, a slight frown furrowing his brow, and I can tell he’s not so sure it’s a good idea.
“Please, Orlando, I need them.”
His lips form a thin line. “I’ll see what I can do,” he grumbles, unimpressed, and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m reduced to begging him for what I need or if he’s just not happy about me being on them in the first place.
But “I will see what I can do” is better than a “hell no,” so I sip my whiskey, praying that tomorrow will bring more relief than today.
He watches me, waiting as if he has more to say, then he turns and moves toward the door. “Get some rest,” he mutters before leaving me alone in his bed. This time, though, he doesn’t lock the door; he leaves it wide open. I thought after me running for it he would have locked me up tight, but maybe he knows I now know there is no escape off this island, so what’s the point in trying. I’m sure he will be back soon to sleep next to me as well. Or is this another test and he’s just waiting to see what I will do next.
Chapter 8
It’slatewhenIhear him enter his room again. He closes his door and locks it in place with a fingerprint on the security panel, then moves toward me where I lie in his bed. I feel his eyes on me, but I don’t dare move. Eventually he moves past me into the bathroom, and I hear him flick on the shower.
A nervous knot forms in my stomach knowing he’s about to come and sleep next to me. The man I have been scared of most of my life. But he’s not that man, at least I don’t think he is. I try to remember that night and imagine how I could have gotten him wrong. But his intentions were clear. I can feel the terrorized scream that ripped from my lungs as he lifted me and crashed my body down on the bed with him violently. I remember his words.“This is going to be fun,”he said as a cruel smirk stretched across his face. His eyes glinting with menace as he peered down at me through his mask. A sharp, distinct angel tattoo staring back at me, its intricate details etched cleanly into my brain forever. He wanted to hurt me that night, I’m sure of it.
Fortunately for me, Onyx was right there by my side, fighting off the other attacker and doing everything he could to help me. Things would have been very different if he wasn’t there.
At one point I thought that was it for both of us, our attackers seemed to be stronger. And even though I knew how fierce Onyx was, I was letting us down. I couldn’t do anything to fight off Orlando. His fingers dug into my arms as he pinned me down under him. My heart raced out of control, and my eyes blurred with tears. But I didn’t give up, no matter how helpless I felt against his overpowering strength. I kept fighting him.
I managed to bring my elbow up, connecting with his chin and forcing him to loosen his grip for just a second. Long enough I could scramble up the bed, but he was far too quick for me. My face burned in pain as he slapped me then pinned me down with his large hand holding both of mine above my head. His body moved over mine as his knees knocked mine out wide. I might have been young, but I wasn’t naive, I knew what he wanted to do to me. I told him to get off me, cursed at him. But that only made him chuckle darkly. That’s when I kneed him in his balls with all the power I had in me. Even though it was satisfying as hell to get something over him, it only slowed him down for a split second and made him angrier.
“You’re going to regret that, little girl,”he seethed bitterly, as he got his hand right up under my skirt and ripped my panties from my body. I can still feel his hands on my skin.
Then there was the loud bang that changed everything, once then twice. And his body crashed over me, covering me in his blood. I had nightmares about it for years. I could still smell the metallic tang in the air. I was sure Onyx had killed him just like he did the other guy. Till two days ago, I would have bet my life on it.
How is the man who took care of me tonight the same man who attacked me? It doesn’t make any sense.
The shower shuts off, and I roll onto my side facing away from his side of the bed and lie as still as I can, shutting my eyes up tight. I wait for the inevitable, for Orlando to join me in bed.
Not long after, I feel him throwing back the covers on the free side, the crisp cotton sheets rustling against the mattress. He moves in beside me smelling fresh and clean, a hint of the lavender and chamomile bodywash he used in the bath.
I keep my eyes squeezed shut, pretending to be asleep. I can’t deal with him any more today.
He rolls toward me, and I feel his hand reach out and touch my arm ever so lightly. My body goes rigid, but if he can tell, he doesn’t act like he can. He sweeps my long hair over my shoulder, then continues to gently brush it with his fingers. I don’t dare move, frozen, not sure what he’s about to do. “Don’t hate me, treasure,” he whispers, his words barely audible. Then he places a kiss on my shoulder and rolls over to the other side of the bed. It’s not long before I hear his breathing even out and I know he’s asleep.
But I’m left wide awake. What the fuck was that? That’s what he said to me tonight as well.Don’t hate me. Does he want my forgiveness? My understanding? I can’t give him any of that. Not with the memories still so prominent in my head. He might be helping me now, but what happens when he snaps and the real him shows his evil head. He can’t have changed that drastically in the past nine years, even if it appears like he has.
WhenIwakeup,the sun is streaming into Orlando’s room and his arm is slung over me, my back to his chest. Our bodies are all cozy and warm together like they were made to be this close.
I freeze.
I’m shocked I let him get so close, even if it was in my sleep. I must have eventually fallen back asleep in the early hours of the morning when my racing thoughts exhausted me. His breathing is peaceful, a soft hum against my ear, and in any other situation, this would feel comforting. But I don’t trust this man, not for a second.
My ankle throbs like a bitch, reminding me of how stupid I was last night. I guess the painkillers have worn off now. I’m also desperate to pee, so I know I’m going to have to swallow some concrete and harden up and hobble to the toilet, pain or not. I bring my elbow back into Orlando’s gut as hard as I can.
He stirs, but his grip doesn’t falter. “What did you do that for?” he complains sleepily.
