Page 90 of Cedarwood Cabin

“I’m too weak, mentally and physically, to fight you anymore,” I mumble as my eyes gloss over. “What do you want from me, Lyka? Why are you still keeping me here?”

“Me and Dax would be fools to let you go. You’re ours now, Flora. Plus, who do you have apart from us?”

“I might not have anyone, but I would have freedom.”

“You have everything you could ever want here. We just want to take care of you.”

If I had the energy, I might have scoffed.

“Take care of me? You’ve tortured and tormented me. You lied about a Covid lockdown. My mother died from Covid. How can you be so cruel?” I whisper.

I see guilt in his eyes for a moment, but he quickly looks away.

“Me and Dax are all you have, and it's staying that way. Yes, we did some fucked up things, but you were ours the moment we brought you back to the cabin. I didn’t want to bring you back here. But–” he stops talking and swallows. I try to look down at the floor, but he holds my chin in place. “I had to keep you here. I’m just as tainted as you. The dark thoughts that trouble you…Well, they trouble me, too,” he whispers.

For a moment, I feel a connection to the man who holds me captive. We just look at each other, a silent conversation passing between us. His eyes search mine, but I don’t have anything else to say. The numbness has taken over any other emotion in me.

His forehead presses against mine and I feel his breath against my lips. Despite everything, in this moment, I want to kiss and hold him. I want to feel something.

Dax strides back into the living room, his voice breaking the fragile tension between me and Lyka. “Flower, we have a treat for you since you’ve been a good girl,” Dax coaxes, holding up a backpack. I turn to look at him and my eyebrows flicker, confused. Lyka stands up, his demeanor still soft. “We’re gonna take you to the lake and have a picnic, go fishing. What do you think?”

“Uhh…I would like that,” I stutter, caught off guard by the offer to leave the cabin.

Dax steps closer, his voice lower and stern, almost threatening. “You’ve been so good for us, flower. Don’t give us any reason to punish you.” His eyes bore into mine.

What they don’t know is that I don’t have anything left to give. The last of my fight bled out of my body three weeks ago. I nod and stand up from the stool. The thought of heading out into the open to see the lake sends me waves of both thrill and terror. I haven't been outside since being tied up like a sacrifice. Lyka helps me gather my things while Dax just watches us. His eyes still locked on me, reminding me of the boundaries that are still present.

We walk toward the door; some outside light filtering into the cabin. My heart pounds in my chest. Stepping outside, I fill my lungs with the fresh air, and for a moment, I feel a flicker of something I haven't felt in weeks—hope. But their presence behind me reminds me how imaginary that feeling is.

We walk toward the garage as Dax takes my hand; his grip is firm but tender. It’s like we are boyfriend and girlfriend. I can’t find it in myself to care; I’m just happy to be outside. The breeze feels amazing against my skin and the view of the forest is something else. It’s as if I haven't seen the outdoors before; everything is so vivid.

“You’ll be getting on the back of my ATV,” Dax says, pulling me along.

Lyka drops the backpack on his ATV and opens a container filled with weed brownies. “Let’s have these before we leave,” he says, holding out the container. They both take a brownie and eat it, enjoying the treat. I reach for one of the brownies and scarf it down, letting the rich chocolate dissolve in my mouth.

Dax guides me toward the four-wheeler, boosts me to the seat, and then holds my hand steady. He starts the engine and I feel the strong vibrations traveling up the seat into my body. “Hold tight,” he says over his shoulder.

I wrap my arms around his waist, feeling his solid muscles beneath his shirt. We speed off into the forest, the wind whipping past us. Lyka follows behind us.

We come to an open area beside the lake. The water glistens in the midday sun. Dax parks the ATV and helps me off.

Lyka pulls off the backpack and spreads a blanket on the grass as we sit down to eat. The scene is idyllic. I slide all the way back, leaning on my elbows, feeling the sun's warmth soaking into my skin. Lyka and Dax sit on either side of me. Though their proximity reminds me of my captivity, I let myself appreciate this moment in the sun for now. I look around, seeing mushrooms spread across the grass, ducks zip across the lake's surface, and butterflies flutter by.

So beautiful. I may be noticing more because I am high.

Dax pulls out containers of food and lays it out. There are sandwiches, fruits, chips, and nuts. Lyka hands me a bottle of water and I take it gratefully; my throat is parched. It almost feels like three ordinary people are picnicking in beautiful weather beside the lake. The darkness of our reality was pushed out of my mind.

“Oh, shit. We forgot the fucking fishing rods!” Dax states, breaking the moment. I can’t help but chuckle and shake my head.

“I’ll see if there is anything in the fishing cabin,” Lyka says, rolling his eyes and standing up from the blanket.

Dax pulls out his pack of cigarettes and gets one out, putting it to his lips. He tosses me the lighter and it lands on my lap. He nudges his head for me to come over. “Light it for me,” he mumbles from the side of his mouth, the cigarette dangling between his lips. I flick the lighter a couple of times, but my fingers feel a little unsteady. Finally, a small flame appears and I hold it to the end of his cigarette. Dax takes a long drag and then breathes it out. He then places an arm around me, pulling me back to his side. For a quick second, something like comfort washes over me, like I’m not captive, but just sitting beside a lake with someone who cares.

Dax drags on his cigarette once more and I watch the smoke drift away into the air. Part of me hates him, but another part is desperate for human connection.

Even if it comes from a person who has caused me so much pain.

Dax holds out the cigarette in his hand, the tip still glowing faintly. “Oh, I don’t smoke.” I shake my head.

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