Page 24 of Under Her Skin

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 finallydidcome 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.

22

CAL

A few days of Ava being home, I’m failing her again. She has succumbed to the terror in her mind that is holding her hostage. The Giovanni brothers, Paige and I thought if she could just exist with no pressure for a few days, that it would help to revive her.

I was wrong. Oh, so very terribly wrong.

Now, I need to rectify the situation. I hate to do it, but it needs to happen. With the decision made, I leave my command center, shaking off the bad news. I have spent months and months hunting for any news on Kiel's whereabouts. I will keep turning over rocks until I find him and eviscerate him. Unfortunately, no one has heard from that bastard. Stomping up the stairs, I hesitate at the door, breathing in deeply. None of this is Ava’s fault. I want to have a calm collected aura around her. I don’t want to make things worse.

I push the door open, doing my damnedest to box up the shitstorm brewing before I walk through the threshold and come to halt just short of the bed. She hasn’t moved. She is in the same position she has been for days: curled into a ball in the center of this nest of blankets and pillows. Her eyes are open. She’s staring into space as though she is lost, floating on the broken memories her brain is still trying to process.

Cracking my neck, I turn and head to the bathroom. I start running the water, feeling for the right temperature. I plug the tub, pouring in a bunch of smelling good shit, and prepare myself for what is about to happen.

“Ava,” I call gently. “You need to get up. If you don’t get up…” I sigh, leaving the empty threat hanging. I’m not going to really do anything, but maybe that would spark her sassiness to jump out. It doesn’t. I grumble about my displeasure. “Okay, you leave me no choice.”

Dipping down, I rip the covers off her. She snaps up and screams at me. Claws at the ready, she goes straight for the eye, my vicious little thing. I bat her hands away. She is so weak from lack of food that this is child’s play. I lean down, carefully and softly snatching her up in my arms. She continues to wiggle and turn as if she were a caterpillar stuck on its back.

Once securely in my arms, the fight all but leaves her. She doesn’t have the strength to sustain her actions. Yet another punch to the gut, another visual reminder of how I failed her.

Stalking to the bathroom, I place her on the countertop. Giving her a stern look, I turn back to check the water temp and levels.

“Don’t move.” The bubbles have tripled, covering the whole tub in light fluffiness. The water is toasty. It should help alleviate any soreness and aches in her muscles.

Ava’s hoarse voice sounds muffled against the raging water as the tub continues to fill. “Cal, I don’t want this. Take me back.”

I shake my head, turning off the water and facing her with my arms crossed. “No, Ava. Not happening. You will get in this tub and get clean.” I soften my words. “Then, you can go back to bed.” A look of indignation flies over her face, and her shoulders drop, her body submitting before her mouth.

“Fine. B-but …” she hesitates, then straightens those slumped shoulders. Her voice gains a bit of steel. “But, you need to leave. I can bathe myself.”

I flinch at her request. Kiel has done so much damage. He’s broken something in her that I hope and pray can heal. I won’t give up on her, but I need the chance to show that to her. I drop to my knees, reaching for her deliberately with care. I want her to see my hand coming. I want her to make the choice to accept my touch. Ava holds still, watching my hands. There is a flash of emotion in her eyes, but it quickly dies.

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