29. 29

29

Ember

I f Ethan thought he was winning this bullshit, he couldn’t be more wrong. Of all the things my parents had taught me, did he really think I’d missed out on learning how to manipulate a person?

He might think he’s the one making the rules, but I’ve already subverted them with my demands. He’d see that in time, but for now, I’d play nice, and give him a little grace before I pulled the rug out from under him.

He made breakfast for us; porridge with some fruit, and honey. I had no idea this kind of healthy shit was the preference for him, but again, I’d change that in time.

“Today’s subject will be something scenic and pretty, to go up on the wall in here. These white walls are fucking unbearable.”

On that fact, we were in absolute agreement. White walls were like a blank canvas, desperately waiting for art to adorn them, and it made the artist in me itch to get started.

“Scenic and pretty? Those things are subjective. What if what I find scenic and pretty is black and desolate, and you’re expecting fairies and flowers?”

Ethan snorted, rolling his eyes at me.

“You do what appeals to you, Ember. This is about you exploring your art, while you’re stuck here with me.” We were supposed to be exploring each other actually. This isn’t what my dads meant when they locked us in here.

“Why are you doing that, Ethan? Why call me Ember, when you know I hate it?”

His jaw clenched at my use of his name, but he fought the urge to correct me yet again.

“Calling you Em is something you’ll have to earn again, Ember. You just need to do as I ask, and you’ll get that back too.”

What a wanker. Suddenly everything is by his directive, and I’m expected to just follow along like a good little girl? Well, fuck that.

I pushed my half eaten breakfast aside and stood up, flipping him off as I passed him.

“Ember, you should finish your breakfast.”

“You should go fuck yourself, but apparently neither of us are getting what we want today. I’m ready to paint. You’d best hurry, because you’re supposed to spend that time with me, remember?”

I heard him cursing as he hurriedly finished his food, and took the bowls to the kitchen.

“I’ll bring coffee with me. Go and get set up.”

Oh, I’ll get set up. You’re about to learn that my ‘demands’ weren’t quite as straightforward as you thought… Mr E .

I went to my bedroom first, changing into my chosen attire for painting, to give me range of movement, and ease of working. Once I reached the art studio, I selected a mid-sized canvas, and started preparing some of the acrylic paints. He wants scenery? That’s what he’ll get.

“Jesus, Em!” I turned to smile innocently at Mr E, while he stared in horror at my clothes, or lack thereof.

“What? I’m going to get started on something with some nice earthy tones for you.”

“You’re naked.” Wow, full marks to the teacher.

“I told you I need to be able to move freely. You agreed to that, remember?” Ethan glared at me like he wanted to yell, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“This isn’t appropriate, Ember. You’ll go and put something on. That’s an order.”

I dropped the tubes of paint on the floor, ignoring the splat of yellow that hit my foot and stained the pale threads of the carpet.

“Fuck!”

I lifted my hands, looking at him with frustration.

“You demanded that I paint to please you, Ethan. I demanded that I get to be comfortable while I work. You agreed to that. You agreed to three things, remember?”

He headed for the door and I called out to stop him.

“One of those things was staying in the room with me while I paint, Ethan. Are you not a man of your word? How can I even begin to trust you, if you go back on your word this easily?”

Checkmate, motherfucker . Ethan practically growled at me, as he took a seat on the floor as far from me as possible, and gestured to me to get working. See, my plan here was simple; he thought he could stay away from me, but I planned to keep teasing and enticing him until he lost his grip on that control, and touched me again.

Once he’s touching me, he won’t be able to hold back. I know my first time was a little traumatic, but I wanted to do it again, to experience it the way it should be, now there was no fear of how painful it would be the first time.

I started painting, using wide swipes of colour, to background the canvas. It’s really easy to do a basic ‘scenery’ painting like he said. It’s all about little dots and flicks here and there, to make the leaves of the trees, and the rest of it is imagination. I spent the next two hours doing just that, adding thick trunks, and then flicking and dabbing leaves everywhere.

Every time I looked up and saw he wasn’t watching, I made a sound to attract his attention, so his eyes were back on me. I was naked for a reason, and it wasn’t for ease of painting, it was to seduce him, so the least he could do was look at me.

“That’s looking nice, Ember.”

I ignored him, because I’m not answering to that fucking name. He knew my problem with it stemmed back to what happened to me at school. He knew that their taunts and cruelty led to me hiding from my name, my entire identity. It was cruel of him to even enforce it again.

Unbidden, a memory hit me, as I remembered the one person who made me hate my name so much.

“Oh look, it’s pretty little fairy Ember. Come here, little girl,” he taunted, following me down the unfamiliar hallway. I’d only been at the school a few days, and I didn’t know my way around, but these boys were all bigger than me, and I didn’t understand why they kept being cruel to me.

“Please let me pass. I’m just going to the library for my-”

“Don’t care. Gotta pay the toll, pretty girl. Let’s see, what should it be, boys?” He grabbed a handful of my hair, and pushed me back against the wall.

“Please!”

“Touch her tits, man.” My what?

He leaned closer, sneering at me as his hands landed on my chest, squeezing at my small breasts.

“Well, I would, but she’s hardly got any. Maybe I should just make little Ember the fairy suck my dick. Does Ember wanna suck a dick, huh?” They all started chanting my name as he shoved me down to my knees, and several of them held me down, as he started unfastening his grey trousers.

“Ember! Look at me, dammit,” Ethan hissed, his hands tight on my arms as he practically shook me. I shuddered, tears burning my eyes, as the familiar sense of shame and helplessness washed over me, weighing down on me, making me feel dirty and worthless. Ember was the school slut, and I never wanted to be that. They gave me no choice.

“Jesus, Em, focus on me, please,” Ethan said, lifting my chin and swiping away tears with his other hand. I tried to speak, but a choked sob was all that came from my lips.

For the first time, after a horrific memory like that, someone was touching me, and it wasn’t awful, and it wasn’t a nightmare. It was comforting. It was comfort that I desperately needed, so I buried my face in his strong chest and sobbed out my despair, my torment, and my pain.

Ethan

I HAD NO IDEA what the fuck had happened while she was painting, but she’d gone from taunting me to freezing in place, the paintbrush clenched tightly in her hand as her body started to shudder. I distinctly heard her whispering something, but the only word I picked up on was ‘please’. I had no idea what she was begging for, and if it was aimed at me, or someone only she could hear right now.

Holding her was a risk, but she needed it, she needed something to break that memory’s hold on her, because I was pretty sure that was what just happened. A flashback to something. It had happened a couple of times early on when I started teaching her, but her family always just ushered me from the room, and I never saw what happened next, or heard what she’d just relived or suffered through.

“Em, talk to me.” I lowered us down to the floor, sitting on the paint-stained carpet, and hugging her against my chest. She was shuddering so violently that I eased back to pull my jumper off, and pretty much manhandled her into it, tugging her back against my chest again.

“Shh it’s okay. Whatever you just lived through again, it’s over, okay? It’s not happening, and you’re not there anymore. You’re here with me.”

Her sobs finally calmed down, but she was still shivering intermittently, and I had no idea how to help with this, because I’d never fully experienced one of her flashbacks before. I wished I had some kind of advice or guidance to build upon, but I didn’t know enough of the specifics of what had happened to her, to understand what might hurt or trigger her.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head vehemently, but if she didn’t tell me, how the fuck was I supposed to help her?

“Your name triggered it?” It was just a guess, but her reaction to her name was always a surprise, because it was more than dislike, it was like revulsion. Like it disgusted her to hear it. She shrugged, and I fought the urge to demand answers.

“Was it something that happened to you at your old school?” She froze for a moment, then nodded once. “Em, please, talk to me. I’m sure it’ll help you to get this stuff out of your head, and they say talking helps.”

She shuddered again, but I’d obviously sparked something, because she started to speak.

“Oh, do they? Do they say that hearing that sick stuff out loud is good for victims? Wow, okay.” Sassy was fine, as long as she talked to me.

“I was new at senior school, Ethan, I was eleven fucking years old. Imagine being eleven and being forced to suck an older kid’s dick, purely because they decided you’d be their target.” Jesus . At eleven? I bet those fuckers weren’t even punished for it. Expulsion wouldn’t have been enough. Fucking castration would be more suitable.

“Jesus, Em-”

“Oh, don’t stop me now, Ethan. It’s good to talk, right? And it’ll be good for you to pity, and be repulsed by me, even further. Eleven years old and having cum shoved down your throat. It’s a real joy. Oh, and we weren’t alone. Oh no. Four of his fucking friends were there, holding me down, and chanting my name, calling me a whore and a slut.” Fuck .

My heart was fucking aching for her, but there was also this deep-seated desperate need to fucking avenge her too. I wanted to find the assholes, and beat them until they begged for a reprieve. Of course, these days I think I was less likely of having enough control to do so, than I’d ever been before. If I ever thought I could kill, this would be why.

“Please tell me they paid for what they did, Em. Please tell me that somehow they were held accountable, or expelled, or something.”

She giggled, pushing out of my lap, and getting up, leaving me immediately missing the warmth of her bare skin.

“Did they pay? I’m not sure why you think that’s any of your business, Ethan, but maybe you should ask my brother if they paid.”

I watched her leave the room, my eyes unable to avoid that pert ass of hers as she walked away from me, but her words finally permeated my brain. Ask her brother? Blaze? Jesus fuck… he’d exacted revenge for her? Suddenly the last thing I wanted was to know what that revenge might have been.

I stared at the painting she’d been working on. It was beautiful, truly, but it lacked any of her usual signature style. True, I’d only seen her pen and ink work, but this was generic, almost faceless. She’d given me what I wanted, but it wasn’t her.

I dug her phone out of my pocket and stared at it. Was I a complete fucking idiot? I nodded to myself, as I selected a number and set it ringing. A videocall, because some things had to be discussed face to face.

“She better be okay, or you’re dead.”

I sighed, faced with Gray fucking Cross, when I’d rather be speaking to literally anyone else right now.

“I was hoping to have a chat with Wilma, please.”

His eyes narrowed dangerously at me.

“That’ll be a fuck no. You’ll talk to me and like it.” Jesus fuck. Not. I like it not.

“I need to talk about Em, but I feel like you’re not going to be the one who can help me.”

Gray got up and moved across the room he was in, and I heard Dory’s voice too. Oh great. Two men who want to kill me is always better than one.

“You’ll talk to both of us, fuckhead. What’s going on?”