30. 30

30

Ember

A fter I left Ethan, I went back to the room I’d chosen as mine, and climbed into the bed, wrapping myself in the covers as my mind raced. He’d comforted me. He’d supported me. He’d held me, for god’s sake, but he was still keeping me at arm’s length, still seeing me as someone to distance himself from.

Maybe it wasn’t all just about me being younger, or inexperienced though. Maybe it wasn’t all just about being forced to be here because of my dads. Maybe it wasn’t even because he felt guilty for the way he took my virginity.

What if knowing a little of what they’d done to me had put him off me? What if it had made him see me as the slut they all said I was? What if it had made him feel disgusted by me, or like I wasn’t worthy of him? What if this was all about him realising I wasn’t good enough for him?

He hadn’t actually rejected me earlier, I knew that. He’d been focused on whether my attackers had been punished, but what I’d wanted, what I’d needed , was for him to care more about me than them. For him to focus on my needs, instead of anything else.

I’d needed him to follow me, to push me to be held, to push me to accept more of his touch, because after years of not allowing anyone near me, I craved his touch now. I craved that closeness. I needed him to hold me, to touch me, to kiss me. I wanted to try sex again at some point. Maybe not now, when I could still hear their voices chanting in my head. What I needed now was for him to care that I could still hear them. That I could still feel their touch. Ugh .

I got up and headed for the shower, switching the water on, and watching it for a moment, putting my focus on the soothing sound and motion of the water. The feel of it against my hand as I held it under the spray. They’d taught me mindfulness techniques during some of my therapy, but mostly it was all crap. Sometimes I could focus on the task at hand, and let it consume me, and other times, it was like trying to catch the drops of water; impossible.

I stepped under the almost too hot water, and let it cascade over me, feeling the droplets pouring over my skin, closing my eyes as I lifted my face and let it rain down on me.

The heat warmed me from the outside in, offered me the comfort that Ethan’s touch would have done more successfully. What would it take to get him to see me as an equal, as someone worthy of his time and attention? What extremes would I have to go to, in order to convince him to give me what I needed? What would I have to do to coerce him into pushing aside that teacher role he’d tried to step back into? What would I have to say to get him to push his way through my boundaries again, to free me by giving me what I crave, but am so afraid of?

How can I get a man to see me for me, when I know what he sees is what they created? The defensive emotional mess that arose from the ashes, when they burned me so badly I lost every ounce of the person I’d been?

Bright, sunny, cheerful, stupidly trusting of everyone. Young Ember had been the epitome of innocence, and the dumbest fucker on the planet. People can’t be trusted, and I learned it the hard way.

Hands shoved me from behind, and I fell into the empty stairwell, catching myself before I fell down the next flight of stairs. I landed on my hands and knees, the concrete stinging my palms, as I fought to breathe after the panic of nearly falling face-first and getting injured.

“While you’re down there, slut.” A hand on my head kept me from getting up, and when I struggled, a hand slapped my face, hard.

“Please let me up,” I whispered, tears burning my eyes as I recognised the voice of my aggressor. It was him again. This time he was alone. Did that mean he’d be nicer to me? Would he still do those horrible things to me, if he didn’t need to show off for his friends?

“Little Ember the fairy likes it on her knees, don’t you? You get to suck my dick when you’re down there.” No. Oh god no, not again! I still felt sick from when he made me do that yesterday. When they held me down and forced it into my mouth. I could still remember that horrible musky taste, and the way he made me swallow that salty stuff he filled my mouth with.

“Please don’t. I don’t like it.”

He laughed, grabbing a fistful of my hair and dragging my head up, so he could look me right in the eyes.

“I don’t care what you like. You come from that weirdo twisted family. Just like your fucked up asshole brother. He likes it too, you know. He probably sucks dick, just like your dads do.” My dads?! What was he saying? No! I struggled against the fingers in my hair, using both of my hands to try and pry them free.

“Sluts like you don’t get to decide what they like, because you’re worthless. You’re nothing. Nobody likes you. Nobody cares about you. Do you think you’re pretty? Do you think you matter?”

He spat at me, leaving it dripping down my cheek.

“You’re mine now, and when I want you to, you’ll suck me. I don’t want you to right now though, because I don’t feel like lowering myself. That’s what you are, so cheap I’ll be lowering myself, every time I fuck your mouth.”

I slumped down in the shower, wrapping my arms around my knees as the tears fell again, and I knew no matter how long I stayed in the shower, I’d never be clean again.

Ethan

GRAY AND DORY WERE both glaring at me through the phone, and only the fact that they couldn’t reach through it and punch me, kept me from ending the call.

“She’s okay, right?” Dory finally asked, the worry on his face making me see him as just a dad for a moment. Not a psycho, but a dad who cared for his little girl so much.

“She had some kind of flashback, and I don’t… you’ve never let me be around before when she had them, so I don’t know how to help her,” I finally said, feeling like a complete fucking moron for not knowing what to do. Gray and Dory exchanged one of those worried looks. Jesus, don’t start thinking of them as reasonable guys. They’re monsters.

“How did she react? Yelling and crying, or silent and shaking?” Fuck. The fact that there were different behaviours to watch out for was a surprise and, frankly, terrifying. I’d only ever seen her silent and shaky when it happened.

“The second one. One minute she was painting and the next, she was rigid, and trembling, and definitely not in the room with me.”

They looked at each other again.

“She’ll never tell you what she saw in those moments, but we figure it’s the worst ones. The stuff she always refused to talk about.” My mouth dropped open for a moment, because I was starting to realise a lot of her behaviours were different with me.

“Actually, she did tell me, and it was fucking horrific. Those fuckers deserved to be castrated for it.”

They stared silently at me, and their stillness made me wonder for a second if the signal had dropped, and the image was frozen, but then Gray’s eyes lowered.

“She told him . She would never tell us, not even Wilms, but she fucking told him?” He wasn’t talking to me, so I stayed the hell out of it.

Dory nodded slowly, one hand landing on Gray’s shoulder and squeezing.

“Okay. Clearly she’s more attached to you than we even realised. Ethan, she’s never told us any of it. You hear that? Not a damn word. We only know some of it, based on what Blaze witnessed, and what came to light when we confronted people about the little we knew. Jesus, we knew she was assaulted by them, but… if she’s trusting you with details, then you’re probably the only one who can help her. Where is she now?”

Shit, I should have checked on her. She had a history of attempting to end her life, and I’d let her leave the room. I stood up, starting to walk to the hallway.

“She went back to her room, I think, but now I’m worried she shouldn’t be alone.”

“She definitely shouldn’t fucking be alone, you dipshit! Find her now, and keep us on the phone. I need to know she’s okay,” Gray yelled at me. I should have fucking followed her, instead of sitting there freaking out about how I couldn’t help her. Following her was how I could fucking help!

I could hear the shower running, and threw the door open, my eyes darting around the room. For a split second, I couldn’t see her, and my heart nearly beat right out of my chest, as panic surged. Jesus, please be okay. Please be fucking okay.

“Where is she, asshole?” I walked into the steamy room, and realised I could see a small shape in the shower cubicle, practically curled into a ball on the floor. She was distraught, but alive, and not injured that I could see.

“She’s here. She’s not hurt, but I need to go.”

“Call us back later. If you don’t, we’re coming there.” I ended the call and tossed the phone on the floor.

“Em,” I reached up and turned off the water, grabbing the largest towel I could find and leaning into the cubicle, wrapping it around her as I practically dragged her up from the floor. She didn’t fight me, but she wasn’t helping me either, and I nearly faceplanted in the damn shower cubicle, as I struggled to manhandle her out of there, and got the towel fully around her. Her skin was blazing hot to the touch, so pink that I realised she’d had the water way too fucking hot.

“What did you do to yourself, huh? My poor sweet girl,” I lifted her into my arms and carried her out of the bathroom, into her room, and climbed onto the bed, keeping her cradled in my arms. Her sobs seemed to have stopped, but she was still rigid in my hold.

“Please talk to me. Em, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry you went through the things you went through, and I’m sorry I didn’t offer the right kind of support at the time. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I want to help. How can I help you? What do you need from me?”

“J-just hold me,” she murmured, pressing her face against my chest as the sobs started again. You know what? That, I can do.