Page 85 of Isle of Beauty

I went to the bathroom after a meal, they had to perform the “favours” the guards required in my place.

Every time I close my eyes, I see Sally’s empty ones and Jennie’s reproachful ones.

Even now, in the safety of Lisandru’s arms, in my own apartment reinforced by four of my men on a 24/7 watch, I jump at every single sound. The cars that pass by under my window, the creaking of the floorboards when Pierce decides to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, the beeping of the microwave signalling my meal is ready.

Lisandru has been the first-hand recipient of my anxiety when he tried to get me my bathrobe after I took a shower the first night back. I didn’t notice he was in the room with me so when he held it for me, I screamed and punched him in the gut, a knee-jerk reaction. He doubled over and took a moment to breathe normally again. By that time, I was a crying mess under the spray, knees to my chest, in both dejection and anger.

I barely sleep three hours each night and they’re restless. I’m always back in that room. Except in my nightmares, no one comes to save me.

I feel weak and helpless. I’m the shoulders on which the rest of the family relies. I thought I had killed any fear in the bud in my father’s basement when I took pain like it was meant for me during our “torture training sessions”.

I was wrong. Because the fear of never seeing my family again, of never seeing Lisandru, of leaving them behind, of being abused and sold, of other women taking punishments for me, of not being seen as a human ever again, that’s fucking killing me.

My head hasn’t been right since I came back. Lisandru wanted to move to our new house but I can’t move to a new place now. Only familiarity comforts me.

I also feel the absence of Igor like I'm missing a part of my heart and of myself.

I look at the clock on my nightstand. Four am.

I climb out of bed, cautious not to wake my sleeping fiancé. His face is relaxed in his sleep. The sheet fell to his lower abdomen showing off his chiselled chest dusted with dark hair. He’s so beautiful he takes my breath away.

And he came for me. He found me. Again.

Tears line my eyes and I tear my gaze away then walk to the seat I placed against the window. From here, I can watch the city underneath. At this hour, only a few cars drive by, and the occasional worker starting the morning shift or ending the night one. Looking at them calms my racing mind and irrational fears that what I have will be taken away again.

These nightmares and lack of sleep are debilitating. I haven’t been to a Moretti-Bartoli meeting ever since I came back five days ago. It feels strange, but everything is fucked. Julian woke up but is still in the hospital. I’m grateful he’s out of trouble, I dread the moment I’ll have to break his heart.

Both my best friends are gone but one of them seems to have disappeared from the face of the Earth.

Lisandru and I talked about therapy and I have my first session with Dr. Sharifa Chatti today. Turns out, I will be using the same services I’ve put together for my people. I don’t think I deserve them though. The psychologists and doctors should be helping real victims. No one touched me.

Stop it. “Your pain is valid,” I murmur out loud in the dark and close my eyes as if to blink the pain away.

“Still not sleeping, mo cara?” His voice is soft and rough from sleep and makes my insides melt a little. I know he announced his presence from far enough so I wouldn’t be startled by him and I both want to weep in gratitude and yell at the unfairness that I fucking need that in the first place.

“I miss them” I say but my voice is hollow.

Lisandru shuffles closer to me and kisses the top of my head lightly. The affection and devotion that pours from his every gesture makes me want to get better, for him, and for myself, to reclaim who I really am.

“Come to sit on the sofa with me, baby. Let me hold you.”

When he’s seated, I curl myself around him and burrow my nose into his chest, inhaling his scent to calm my battered nerves. I feel like a junkie who needs her fix but that never gets old. The mix of his cologne and the lingering undertone that’s only him always quiets my mind.

His arms embrace me in a cherishing hold. This is the only moment I truly feel safe. Anyone else hasn’t been able to come close to me, I just can’t let them. It makes me feel naked all over again and I only trust Lisandru around my naked soul and body.

He swipes a throw blanket over our bodies. One of his thumbs rubs soothing circles against my hip and with his other hand, he gently caresses my hair.

I release a deep sigh and my shoulders immediately drop, like I just shedded a thousand pound weight. With my ear against his heart, the steady beat lulls me back to sleep. It will only last an hour or so but I’m grateful for the reprieve anyway.

Julian was dismissed from the hospital this morning and is now lounging in his flat, two floors down mine, wincing at every move.

“Stay still, you stubborn mule, you’re going to rip your stitches,” I admonish and come to sit next to him on his sofa.

Physical contact with others still makes me shudder so I simply land my hand on his and squeeze. The sadness behind his tender eyes tells me Lisandru must have told him what happened while he was in a coma.

“How are you?” he asks.

“I should be the one asking you that.”

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