21. Ava

21

AVA

I stare out the floor to ceiling windows, sitting in the most comfortable bed, surrounded by pillows and blankets and anything else Cal felt would sooth my battered soul. The view takes my breath away, just like the first time I looked out to the forest that engulfs Cal's property.

He has done anything and everything he can think of to make my transition from tortured hostage, to beaten victim, to a recovering survivor as seamless as possible. I'm not ungrateful. It's been a long road to recovery, months and months slipped by as I recuperated in the hospital. I stayed at the hospital to heal from the physical damage until I was strong enough to be transferred to a drug treatment facility.

Overcoming my need, my addiction, was not easy. I relied so heavily on the drugs; it was like a warm, comfy security blanket, pulling me from the nasty reality that Kiel was shoving at me and allowed me to sink into its cozy embrace.

Cal and my brothers have been the best. A bit overbearing, but I should have expected as much. They take turns watching out for me. From the moment I woke up at the hospital, someone has been at my side, step by step. Comforting as it has been, I don't know if I can handle much more of their mother henning me.

The door creaks open. My head snaps in the direction and a gasp of air leaves my parted lips. It's just Cal bringing me a cup of chamomile tea to help me sleep, but the jumpiness is a new tick I've developed. I have so many new twitches that it's overwhelming. The nightmares continue night after night - some more realistic, as though I'm there again, while others are faceless and full of pain. Cal is hoping that the calming tea will have a positive effect on my nighttime sleep. I'm not holding my breath.

Nothing has worked.

Sliding the tray softly at the end of the bed, Cal sits on the edge. "Is there anything else you need?" He reaches for my hand, giving it an affectionate squeeze. Shaking my head no, he sighs and sinks further into the bed, wrapping an arm around me. It feels good. I want this. I don't want to fear touch. But the reality is, I can't stand being touched. It makes my skin crawl; my stomach roils with dread, and then it happens. Instead of Cal, my brothers, or even Paige, it's him, I feel his hands, smell his scent, hear his voice. I tumble right back to being held as his captive. The shaking starts and my breath comes out in heavy pants as if I was running a marathon.

Cal snatches his hand back and scootches away, leaving a large gap between our bodies. The space looks small, yet it feels like a canyon between us. I feel like a piece of shit for it. He keeps trying, but my mind is still healing from the trauma. The demented sociopath who devoured the last bit of good that was in me, lashing his hooks deep within my soul, continues to drag me down into the depths of the abyss that I currently reside in. I haven't found a way to dislodge his hold. It pains me to see the flicker of hurt that flashes across his deep blues. I know I cut him deep, but I can't seem to navigate these churning waters. I don't know if I'm strong enough to break the surf and make it to the shore, but also don't know how to ask for the help I realize I need.

A throat clearing snaps me out of my internal beatdown. Cal is standing by the door. I didn't feel him get out of the bed.

"Drink your tea." He rubs the back of his neck, eyes skittering about the room. "I… uhhhh…I have a few things to get done, but I'll come join you later … If that's okay?" I nod my acceptance. Knowing that he is leaving me in hopes that it will make my adjustment back into this space easier. His uncomfortable behavior has red flags flashing, making me nervous. I wonder what secrets he's keeping, and if my brothers are involved.

I'm shaking.

Why am I shaking?

I hear screaming. A name … My name. Someone is yelling. "Ava …. Wake up!" My eyes snap open. I gulp in breaths of air. I'm soaking wet; my heart is pounding. Cal's warm hands are still on my arms, and I flinch at the sensation of his skin against mine. He rips his hands away.

"Sorry." He clears his throat. "You were screaming and thrashing in your sleep. I came running in to see you scratching at your arms." There are gouges running from my elbow to my wrist; my nails are covered in red. The damage I caused in my sleep is shocking.

The nightmares aren't getting better. I can see the strain this is putting on him, and I don't know any way to make it better. Living this way is not what anyone would want.

"Cal, I can't do this. I know you can't want this either." I fiddle with the duvet, so I don't have to see the emotion burning in his eyes. "Who would want to be with me? You? That's laughable." A hoarse laugh chokes its way up from my throat. I throw my arm up at him, gesturing at him. "You have your good looks, money, a kickass job, and so much more. Why the hell would you want some broken drug lord's used up whore? A piece of trash he threw at his investors like a toy that was on the playground for everyone to use and enjoy. How can you even look at me?" I choke on a sob. "To think you would want me to stay here with you and be by your side, you should have cut your losses." Quivering with agitation, twisting the sheet, I look up and immediately regret it. My voice cracks. "Please just leave. I don't want you to see me like this anymore."

I curl into myself as the door quietly clicks shut. How could he want me? How could Cal even think about wanting a life with me? I'm used up goods. I'm a mess. I sink further and further into this puffy pile of comfort and blessedly fall asleep.

Waking to blue clear skies, I roll out of bed and take care of my basic needs. That little bit of activity knocks me on my ass. Exhaustion takes hold.

Crawling back into my comfort nest, my mind wanders. It flits from thought to thought, memory to memory, seeping further into a trance-like state. Time has no bearing on me. It could have been days since we arrived at Cal's property or weeks.

The bed dips. A soft whisper of skin touches my face pushing back the hair that has wrapped itself into my eyes. The blurry vision before me clears, taking the shape of the beautiful smiling face of Paige.

"Sweetheart, Cal's worried." She moves back, giving me space to sit up. Scooching up to lean against the headboard, I stare at my friend, the one person who I know would never judge me for all that has befallen me.

"He called me. Asked - No, demand I come over." She sighs. "He is looking to find your spark. A bit of fight, Ava. He has the tenacity of a pitbull. Goddamn, he is fucking relentless." She sighs as though she doesn't love a man with those exact tendencies. "He's determined to see you back to rights." Looking down, I continue to sit silently, watching my fingers twisting and turning as they interlock - an apparent nervous tick I picked up.

Paige doesn't push or prod. In fact, she is a silent calming presence. It feels like she is waiting me out, hoping that I will give her something. I relent.

"Paige, I just don't think I am worthy. I'm tainted. Ruined goods. Who would want to be with me after all that has been done to me." Tears gather in the corner of my eyes, preparing for their trek down my cheeks. "How can I be with him after everything I have been through?" A sob catches in my throat. "I don't know if I can let another human touch me again." Shaking, I let the emotion roll over me. Melting back into my nest, I effectively shut her out.

Murmurs glistening over me. Voices of different cadence glide on the cusp of my reality. Spots of conversation filter through. A gruff tone skits along my nerves. "She seems to have lost touch with reality."

"She's under the impression that she is used goods that no one would want," a female voice shares.

"I'd hope that she would overcome …" the male growls, slowly fading out.

"Maybe she needs more time," a different male says, sadness creeping into the words that spill from him.

I wonder if I am dreaming about them. Who are these people? Who are they speaking about? They sound sad.

Time slips. It's beginning to blend. The bed is my vessel of safety, and I don't want to leave it. I fall deeper and deeper into numbness, closing my eyes and diving into a nightmarish slumber.

Feeling a weight on my shoulder, I jolt, scrambling to move away from it. My back slams into the headboard and my breath comes out in pants as my eyes widen in shock. Cal scrambles backwards as if I shocked him with a cattle prod. The turmoil I feel when I look at him eats me alive. I don't want to imagine what I am doing to him.

I have only been here at Cal's house for what I think is a few days, or maybe it's been weeks. I just don't know. Each moment is slipping through my fingers like sand. But months upon months spent with him as I recovered has shown that I don't have a damn clue what I want.

I want him.

I pleaded for him while strapped to that table in the basement. I want a life with him. I want nothing more than to fall into his warm embrace and roll around in the security that his strong arms offer.

Yet, I want nothing to do with his touch. He scares me. There is a fear that takes hold and grips me, stealing my breath, and I don't know why. I feel like my heart and mind are in a marathon match of ping pong. Anytime a side scores, that's the emotion that dominates. It's a tiring game. The longer this goes on the further down into the dark abyss I feel the emotional riptide is yanking me.

To make matters worse, this visceral reaction seems to prime my body. Shame fills me. Cal scares me. I fear him and yet I want him to have his twisted way with me. I can't stop thinking about how it was between us, but I can't seem to stop my reaction to my body's fear turning me into a dripping hot mess for him.

Thinking of telling Cal about my reaction to him sends my thoughts crashing in different directions. My head has me reaching further into the numbness. Cal has begged and pleaded so many times. He wants me to walk, to shower, go to the living room and watch television or, hell, step outside and feel the fresh air.

It is not happening.

I will not move.

I can't.

As the days pass, I turn into a sloth, barely moving or eating. Just sleeping. Getting lost in the memories. Drowning in the agony of past transgressions. My mind is projecting my time with Kiel on a continuous loop. And for fun, my brain is throwing in bouts of Elliot. The longer this happens, the more their faces blur and blend. The longer the torture and rape are relived, I can't seem to identify either devil. Instead, it's as though their actions and bodies have melded. In its place, a new demon has emerged, one that I can't seem to battle. It seems to have me frozen in place and I lose at every turn. I've lost Cal. I lost my brothers. Now I'm losing myself more and more as every moment slithers past me.

Cal tries every day. It breaks me further to see how much he cares, yet I can't seem to get over the fact that he was never there. I longed for him, and he never came. Then, when he finally did come for me, he left Kiel alive. He allowed that bastard to keep breathing; the thought guts me.

After all he did, he is still walking this planet. He could be at this very moment coming for me, and Cal and my brothers expect me to pick up my life as though nothing happened. Okay, maybe not as if I wasn't tortured and raped repeatedly, but they do have an expectation of how I should be. Why else are they constantly attempting to get me to move, to eat, to live?

I vaguely recall Cal brushing his hands against my face. His words never register as I continue to submerge. He must hit a breaking point because the next face I hazily see is Chase. Worry and concern flicker in his expression. He turns looking at someone else in the room. Who, I haven't a clue. I can't seem to dislodge myself from this state. Chase shoves a cup of something under my face. The scent of fresh brewed coffee hits me. I see the glimmer of hope in his eyes. But I can't bring myself to crave my most favorite drink.

None of those things bring me joy. He took that too.

In fact, it feels like he took it all from me. My strength. My will. My need to live.

Kiel took it all.

He won.