7. Olivia

Chapter seven

Olivia

S lowly, I wake up, my limbs feeling heavy. I move my arms in an attempt to rub the sleep from my eyes. I stiffen and go completely still. My arms are tied to the headboard. My legs are spread and my ankles are tied to the bed.

I open my eyes to look around in the room, but I’m met with complete darkness. Oh god, he has me blindfolded. I try to think back over the afternoon. What did I do? I ask myself this every time, but it doesn’t matter.

He was in a bad mood tonight, so I tried my best to not be seen. I strain trying to figure out where he is, but I can’t tell. I don’t remember coming to my room. Where’s Ruth? She didn’t eat dinner with us tonight. She’s not around like she used to be. I squeeze my eyes shut. The people I love always leave.

Did he drug me? A cold sweat breaks out over my body. Do I have any clothes on? A lump forms in my throat and my lips tremble. I hold my breath, listening even more closely, but I know he won’t reveal himself until he’s ready.

Why wasn’t I in the car with my mom? Why did she have to leave me? My eyes sting, but I inhale slowly, trying to stay as quiet as possible. Maybe he won’t realize I’m awake. I know he’s in here. I can feel him watching me. The floor creaks. Every muscle in my body is tense as I wait to see what he’s going to do next.

“My sweet, sweet Olivia.”

His voice is soft. Bile works its way into my throat. I want to scream. I want to yell for help, but I know no one will save me. He no longer allows the staff to stay overnight. There are a few of his men that stay, but they’re as sick and demented as he is.

They look at me the same way he does, but if they were to ever touch me, he’d kill them. His fingers touch the inside of my ankle and trail up. I flinch and wrap my fingers around the rope at my wrists, gripping it so tight the fibers irritate my skin.

“You love it when I touch you, don’t you, sweet thing?”

I clamp my teeth shut and take a deep breath. He’s delusional. I don’t respond, instead I go to my happy place. My mom and I are at the lake. She’s putting sunscreen on my back. The sun is beating down on our faces and we’re laughing at something silly she says.

He lays across me, and I tense. I swallow. I should have waited to go to my happy place. He snarls and slaps my face. The sting from the slap reverberates in my skull. My whole body is trembling now. I can’t stop it.

“Why do you always defy me?” he yells. Spit falls on my face. My ears ring and my eyes burn, but I know it’s best to just lay here. Lay here and wait. I know he won’t hit me again. He doesn’t like to see marks on my body.

He runs his fingers through my hair. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I know you love this.” I take deep breaths. In through my nose and out through my mouth, slow and controlled. He positions himself over me again, and I force myself not to flinch. “I knew you loved this.”

I know it’s time to go to my happy place as he…

I bolt upright in bed drenched in sweat. As I quickly glance around my room, I nearly scream from the shadow of my chair against the wall. I turn and switch the lamp on next to my bed. My heart is racing. My hands and feet are tingly. And I can’t catch my breath.

“It was just a dream. It was just a dream,” I tell myself. I search my room again. “He’s not here,” I murmur over and over.

My skin is clammy, and my pajamas are heavy against my skin. I push the blanket off and shake out my limbs, reminding myself that I was not just tied up. It was just a dream. Why do they have to feel so real?

I swallow and change out of my shorts and tank top, into something that’s not drenched in sweat. Closing my eyes, I inhale slowly, forcing my legs to move out of my bedroom and turn every light on in my small house as I search every room. He’s not here. The alarm would have gone off if someone was in here, but I also know I won’t be able to go to sleep until I check.

Stopping in the kitchen, I grab a glass and fill it up with water. Sipping at it, I glance out the window and study every shadow, reminding myself the entire time he’s not outside either. The motion sensor lights would have turned on.

I snap my eyes closed, turn away from the window, and lean against the counter. I don’t have the night terrors like I used to, but I do have them three or four times a week. When my heart goes back to normal, I pour the rest of my water out, place the glass in the dishwasher, and walk back to my room, turning lights off as I go.

I lay down in my bed and roll over to turn the lamp off, but stop just as my fingers touch the switch. I’m not a child. I can sleep without a lamp on. Shaking my head slightly, I keep the lamp on, and roll over on my side, facing away from it.

Will it always be like this? Will I have to deal with nights like this for the rest of my life? It’s been four years since I left. One day I’ll be normal. One day.

The blaring of my alarm wakes me up. Rolling over, I turn it off, slowly sit up, and lean against my headboard. I bring my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them. I’d love to stay home, work on my garden, and maybe the app I’ve been slowly building for the past few months.

I grab my phone and pull up Victor’s name. Clicking on the messages, my thumbs hover over the letters.

Olivia: I’m not going to be able to go to lunch today after all.

Not waiting for a response, I place it face down on my nightstand to get ready for my day. Walking to my closet, I stare, hoping an outfit will just jump out at me, but nothing does. I grab two dresses, two pairs of pants, and two blouses. I wish I had someone to pick out my clothes for me.

Or at least I give them these options, and they choose from the options. It may sound dumb and it’s something I wouldn’t say out loud. I stare at the items I placed on the bed. Why do simple things like picking out my clothes give my heart palpitations?

I shower, fix my hair, and do my makeup before walking back out to my room. When I see the outfits still laying on my bed, I sigh. I don’t know what I expected. If only I had the closet app Cher had in Clueless .

“There’s an idea,” I murmur as I grab the black slacks and gold blouse.

My phone vibrates on the nightstand. I get dressed slowly, eyeing my phone every few seconds. It might not be Victor replying. It could be Ansley or Caroline. Once I’m dressed, I swallow and rub my thumbnail over the lingering cut on my fingertip. Finally gathering my courage, I walk the few steps to my nightstand, pick my phone up, and click on my messages. It is from Victor.

Victor: Did something come up?

I tap my phone against my chin. I could just ignore it. But I have my read receipts on, so he’ll see that I’ve read it. I could lie and say yes. My thumbs hover, ready to say yes, but I can’t lie.

Victor: Olivia?

I scowl at the name. I wish he would call me Liv; I hate Olivia.

Olivia: I’m super busy at work.

It’s not really an answer, but it’s safe.

Victor: Did something come up between last night and this morning?

I don’t know how to respond. Why did he have to ask that? I could go to lunch with him, but I’m not ready. Not yet.

Victor: I understand when work gets crazy. I’ll bring you something to eat if that’s okay with you. Where do you work?

I read his text multiple times. He’s letting me out of this, but he’s still bringing me lunch. I swallow. If I tell him where I work, will he tell Donovan? I still don’t know about their relationship.

Victor: I promise. I haven’t spoken to him and I won’t.

How the hell did he know what I was thinking?

Olivia: I work at the Holloway building.

The Holloway building belonged to Lincoln’s dad. That’s where he had his practice before he died, but in the will he only left a portion of the building to Lincoln because Lincoln refused to join him. It said he could have it all if he decided to become a lawyer, since he didn’t the other floors were given to other people his dad knew.

Victor: Thank you for trusting me. Please meet me in the lobby at noon.

My throat tightens reading his acknowledgement that it’s a big deal I’m trusting him and my heart skips a beat at the fact I’ll see him today.

Olivia: Okay. Thank you.

Victor: I’ll see you at noon.

I lick my lips before walking to the kitchen and pour myself a to-go cup of coffee. I gaze out the kitchen window and fight the urge to walk the perimeter of my backyard. Turning, I grab my purse, set my alarm, and walk out the door, making sure it’s locked. Maybe I could get some security cameras.