Chapter Thirty-One

Ivy

Pain.

So much fucking pain.

Everything hurt. The pain was so excruciating that it made my body shudder uncontrollably, spasm involuntarily, and ache relentlessly, leaving me struggling to catch my breath.

I didn't know how to control it.

Nothing worked. There was no reprieve.

It was a constant presence, crashing over me like an unrelenting tidal wave. In a moment of agony, I screamed and instinctively clutched my stomach. Desperate to alleviate the torment coursing through my veins, I attempted various methods, but none offered respite.

With each passing moment, the pain intensified.

Father brought me in here when I wet myself. I pleaded with him, my voice filled with desperation, but he remained unmoved by my words. He never listened to me. I tried cleaning it up before he found the mess I made, but I wasn't fast enough.

I found myself trapped in the blue room, feeling a sense of despair as there was no escape and no one around to offer assistance. Throughout the course of several months, I'd experienced a constant feeling of sickness, resulting in frequent episodes of throwing up, regardless of the time of day. My father subjected me to relentless whipping as punishment for my inability to exercise self-control. With the passing of each month, I noticed that my belly was starting to grow larger and rounder. Fearing my father's reaction to my weight gain, I began restricting my food consumption to avoid any potential anger. But that only made things worse.

Then I felt it.

A strange sensation stirred within me, an internal movement that seemed to twist and kick, as though something was alive and restless, trying to fight its way out of me. I screamed bloody murder the first time I felt it move. Trembling with fear, I looked to my father for comfort, and he calmly assured me that everything was part of God's plan.

He gifted me with a new pillow that night.

It was really soft.

Following that, my father reassured me that I no longer had to endure encounters with his friends. That I was fulfilling God's plan, and I was to stay in my room. I didn't understand.

During the next few months, I didn't leave my room and became increasingly mesmerized by the sight of my stomach swelling with each passing day. I knew that there was something extraordinary brewing within me. Father said it was. Excitement coursed through me while I eagerly anticipated uncovering its identity, but at the same time, I couldn't help but worry about its means of escape.

I slept a lot during that time.

I was so tired.

A sharp pain in my back abruptly awakened me last night. No matter how much I shifted and adjusted, I couldn't find a comfortable position. It helped when I walked around my room for a while or when I sat on the toilet. Tired, I tried to go back to sleep and that's when I wet myself. It got everywhere.

My bed, the floor, my rug.

On my knees, diligently cleaning up the mess, I caught a whiff of my father's cologne when he walked in.

He smiled and yanked me from my room. He dragged me down the hall toward a room I knew well. I pleaded, begged him to let me stay in my room. That I would do better next time, but he didn't listen to me.

Now I was in the blue room.

His room.

The room where father taught me how to please him.

I'd been in this room for hours now as the pain encompassed my body while I waited for father to come teach me another lesson.

Only he never came.

I screamed out when my stomach hardened heavily.

I needed to go to the bathroom. Only there was no bathroom in the blue room.

I didn't know what to do.

My stomach stiffened again, and I couldn't stop myself. The intense urge to use the bathroom overwhelmed me and I finally succumbed to it, desperate to relieve myself. I exerted all my strength, but the pain remained unrelieved, lingering like a constant reminder.

The door swung open, and my father entered, pushing a small table ahead of him. Behind him, there was someone I knew very well.

Father was smiling again.

"How are you feeling, sweetheart? I hope you don't mind but I brought a friend. I thought you might like the company."

"It hurts!" I screamed, panting heavily as sweat beaded across my forehead.

"It's supposed to hurt, Ivy. Such is the lot of women. You are fulfilling God's duty to man."

"She needs a hospital, Devlin. She's too young," the other man gasped when he looked at me. "What the fuck did you do to her? She's a child."

"You are not here to pass judgment on me or mine, Oliver. Just do what I am paying you for or leave and I will care for her myself."

"You son of a bitch," the man cursed, rolling up his sleeves as he pulled a chair over and sat at the end of the bed. Reaching for my legs, he spread them wide, and I screamed, trying to move away from him.

Father grabbed my neck and squeezed, cutting off what air I had. "You will behave, or I will rip that baby out of you myself."

With no choice, I nodded and opened my legs.

Over the next hour or so, I endured excruciating pain that surpassed any agony I had ever felt before. My body trembled with an unfamiliar combination of sorrow, anguish, and heartache, leaving me feeling completely shattered. Even though I couldn't find the words to express it, the moment the pain subsided and the man standing at the foot of the bed held a tiny doll in his embrace, tears welled up in my eyes. The cause of my tears remained a mystery to me, yet they cascaded down my cheeks relentlessly as I laid my eyes on it.

So that was what was inside me all this time.

It let out a piercing wail, drowning out all other sounds, as I desperately pleaded for it to hush.

Father didn't like it when I cried.

Yet when I looked at father, he was smiling.

"Well? What is it?"

"A boy."

"NO!" father shouted loudly, making me jump. "It was supposed to be a girl. I was sure of it this time."

"She had a boy. Would you like to see the penis?"

"Get the fuck out of here!" Father yelled angrily, leaving my side while he paced the room as the man walked over to me, placing the small wiggly body in my arms. He was so small. Like a little doll I once played with. He had ten fingers, ten toes, and a full head of black hair, like mine. And when he opened his eyes, I smiled.

He looked like me.

He looked like Father.

He was perfect.

I don't know what made me say it, but looking at the little doll in my arms, I whispered, "Thank you, Father. I will take such good care of it. I promise."

"FUCK!" Father roared, turning as he slammed his fist into the wall. He was angry, and for the first time in my life, I didn't care. I didn't feel the need to soothe his temper or make him feel better. All I cared about was the little doll in my arms quietly looking up at me.

It was so beautiful.

The most adorable little doll I'd ever seen.

"I should have fucking known you were too damn stupid to do anything right. Cunts like you are always rebellious. Your mother was the same way."

I wasn't listening to him.

I didn't care.

All I cared about was the doll in my arms.

"Give it to me," Father sneered, standing next to me.

Looking up, I frowned, holding my little doll tighter while I slowly shook my head.

"You gave it to me."

"Now, Ivy."

"But—"

"NOW!" father roared, and I reluctantly handed him my doll. It was only then did I see the red silk rope in his other hand, the decorative knot at the end.

I knew that knot. What it meant. What it signified.

Father had used that knot on me many times to bring me to heel.

To teach me what I refused to learn.

Shaking my head, I forced my tired and uncooperative body to sit up. "Father, what are you going to do?"

"What I should have done in the first place. I won't make the same mistake twice."

"Give me my doll back!"

Ignoring me, father walked to the door and stopped, turning to face me as he said, "Maybe next time you will learn your lesson."

The next thing I knew, he walked out and shut the door behind him.

With a scream that seemed to pierce the air, I fell to my knees, pleading and begging for mercy. My worn-out body dragged itself across the icy, unforgiving surface of the tiled floor. Reaching for the door handle, it wouldn't budge.

The door was locked.

Banging on the door, I screamed, "Please don't do this. It's only a little doll! It can't fight you! I'll do better next time. I promise! Please, Father!"

My screams echoed relentlessly when I tried to withstand the excruciating pain that seemed to encase me, leaving no room for anything else.

Jerking awake, I lay there in the darkness as fear plagued my mind.

The bed shifted behind me when Luc pulled me closer, fitting himself around me while his hand gripped my bare breast. A possessive reflex that should have soothed me, yet another trickle of terror coated my heart.

I lay there, dreading sleep while buried memories plagued me.

My dreams had been out of control lately, causing me to sleep restlessly. I tried to make myself lie still, focusing on his breathing, the warm air flowing over me when he exhaled. I noticed the weight of his arm across my torso and the involuntary twitch of his fingers while he slept deeply. I tried to drift off as my father's sinister smile erupted before my eyes, causing an indescribable storm of pain.

Gasping, I sat up, choking on the surrounding air as a roaring inferno of sorrow seared my soul while fragmented clips of the blue room assaulted me. In an attempt to shield myself, I pulled my knees up to my chest and curled my body protectively, all the while gripping my hand tightly over my mouth to stifle the scream that threatened to escape.

There was a heavy feeling in my throat, like there was a sob trying to escape and my eyes tried to hold back tears. The intense combination of coppery blood, sweat, and the pungent odor of urine overwhelmed my nostrils, creating an unpleasant sensory experience. The tension in my body increased and I coiled tighter, my hands gripped tightly onto my calves as my forehead repeatedly tapped against my kneecaps.

The emptiness I felt was so profound that it left me gasping for breath. The desolation in my soul was so intense that it rendered my heart incapable of beating. Memories mercilessly attacked me, expanding in my mind like a never-ending sea of heartache, until they left behind a trail of destruction that claimed fragments of my very existence. With a sense of desperation, my fingernails dug into my skin, desperately seeking any nerves that would still react. I turned my head and positioned my cheek against my knee and carefully observed Luc.

In a state of profound and undisturbed sleep, he was completely unaware of anything happening around him. While I watched him, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy toward the effortless way his chest rose and fell with each breath he took. Witnessing his eyelids twitching and his lips curled into a smile during his slumber. I craved the imaginative wonderland his mind effortlessly produced. I kept my eyes on him as he was oblivious to the battle I faced or the overwhelming flood of horrifying memories that rushed back to me.

Slowly extracting myself from the bed, I quickly dressed.

I didn't know what I was doing or where I was going, but I knew I couldn't be here. Quietly leaving the room, I snuck downstairs, careful not to wake the others. The second I stepped into the main room, I halted, seeing Slash sitting at a table with Father Dominic.

Hearing me, they both turned, and when Father Dominic stood, I didn't hesitate. I ran to the man.

"Oh, my sweet girl."

Crying into his chest, I sobbed uncontrollably when his familiar arms held me tightly, consoling me in the only way he could.

"I'll leave you two alone," Slash muttered, getting up and leaving the room.

Releasing him, he brushed my hair from my face and wiped away my tears. "How about a walk?"

I nodded, sniffing. "I'd love that."

The early morning air was chilly. We walked side by side, with no direction in mind. Both of us were silent for the longest time, neither of us willing to break the silence between us.

It was one of the traits I liked most about Father Dominic.

His quiet nature.

He wasn't pushy like Logic. With Father Dominic, he didn't prod, pick, or demand answers. He was just there, waiting patiently for me to say whatever it was I needed to say. His silence spoke volumes and it never failed to calm me because eventually I started talking.

"I think I made a mistake."

"We all make mistakes, Ivy. That's what makes us human."

"No, I mean about not helping the detective. I should have told her what she needed to know."

"Michael told me your Luc did that. What more could you have told her?"

"The truth. I remember, Padre."

Father Dominic stopped. "What do you remember, Ivy?"

Looking up at the man, I whispered, "Everything."

Father Dominic took a deep breath and continued walking. "I see."

"You knew all along, didn't you?"

He nodded. "Yes. Gladys and I knew. When Michael found you after you killed that man in the church, you were in a catatonic state. Dr. Lansing did a thorough exam. He left nothing out."

"Do the others know? Does Luc?"

Father Dominic nodded.

"Fucking great."

"Gladys and I never wanted you to know, Ivy. That's why we insisted August prescribe you all those meds."

"August didn't prescribe them to stop my dissociative identity disorder, did he? Those meds were to stop me from remembering."

"Please forgive us, Ivy. We only wanted to protect you. You'd suffered so much. Gladys and I feared that if you remembered what happened, it would destroy you."

I wanted so much to be angry at him, but I couldn't. I knew the man didn't have a mean bone in his body. All he cared about was helping others, and, while I needed help, I wasn't the most receptive person back then.

God, Logic was going to have a fucking field day when I told him this shit. It was bad enough that I had to sit and listen to him drone on and on while he dissected every fucking word that came out of my mouth. But this? He would have me in therapy for the rest of my freaking life.

Which, in hindsight, probably wasn't a bad thing.

Everyone needed therapy now and then, right?

"I think it did destroy me. Well, some part of me, from what I can remember. It's still in pieces. Like fractured glass, my mind is still trying to put all the pieces together, but I know something terrible happened. Something that's still out of reach. I just remember hurting really bad. Not from punishment or anything else, a deep soul pain. I've felt nothing like that before. Not even when he took my mother away."

"Ivy, I can't—"

"I know, and I'm not asking you to. I think without my meds, my mind is finally ready to show me what I've erased for so long. I'm scared. Don't get me wrong, Padre, I want to know. I need to know."

"Just know that when you put everything together, you're not alone. There are people who love you and will do anything to help you. Like that man of yours. Michael told me you've tamed the Devil himself."

I chuckled at that. "I wouldn't say that. The man's name is Lucifer for a reason."

"Only you would find—"

"Would find what?" I smirked when I realized that Father Dominic was no longer beside me. Turning, I saw him standing on the edge of a shadow while he smiled serenely at me. Just then, the streetlight shimmered off a knife that slowly slid across his neck. Blood sprayed across my face. Blinking, I slowly raised my hand as warm, sticky blood dripped down my chin.

I knew what I was seeing.

I just couldn't get my mind to assimilate it.

This was Father Dominic. The man who cared for me, listened to my first confession, taught me how to play chess. The same man who held me when my nightmares ravaged my body.

My mind screamed at me to run, to flee, to get help, but I couldn't move. I couldn't leave him. He needed me. He didn't know this town like I did. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

Blinking, I watched his body slowly sink to the sidewalk and the shadow moved.

Stepping out of the darkness, my eyes moved from Father Dominic to the man glaring at me. He grinned evilly when he licked the blood from the knife and that was when I noticed the knife in his hand.

It wasn't just any knife.

Moving my hand to my side where I should have felt the hilt of my knife, I felt nothing.

Looking back up at the man, he glared menacingly at me.

"Run."

I did just that.