Page 51 of Cook

He set me down and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll explain later. I wanted to show you this. It’s what I used as a darkroom as a kid. To develop pictures.” He gestured at the camera I still held.

“Aahhh.” My whole body breathed a sigh of relief.

It made sense now. The camera. The absence of windows. Not a cage, but where Cook developed his photos from the old camera.

Cook strolled to a cabinet in the corner and opened the doors. Old bottles of chemicals and supplies sat inside, along with anothercamera. He pulled the second camera out and looked like he was gauging its weight.

“I like this one.” I cradled the one Vivi gave me to my chest.

He turned over the other one in his hands, inspecting the dials and where the film would be inserted. “We’ll develop the photos you took with that, but this one will take higher quality pics.”

Cook paused for a second, switching gears, then saying, “Hmmm. It looks like there might be film inside. Hope there’s nothing embarrassing on it.”

As he spoke, I noticed a small white corner sticking out from under the cabinet. Stooping, I pulled it out and stared at a man that looked almost identical to Cook, but this man had a bulging belly and flabby arms poking out of a tight white tank top. Short hair. No beard. He looked past the camera, off into the distance, and appeared angry, but angry in a way that it seemed like his whole being might constantly be pissed off.

“Fuck, Maddie. Give me that.”

He snatched the photo from my hands and turned his back on me.

Shit, I’d really done something to get him worked up now. His hard voice raked through my soul and made me cower on the floor.

“I thought I’d burned all these.”

His reaction was so much harsher than I’d seen so far, and I had no clue how to respond. I bowed my head, thinking how I could make it up to him. I didn’t mean to find the picture or for him to see it. Next time I saw something, I’d have to wait until he was out of the room before looking.

The paper ripped, and my fingers itched to stop him. The subject of the photo might be an ugly man, but the photographer captured his essence to perfection. It was a shame to destroy something so expertly crafted.

A gasp escaped my lips as he continued ripping it up.

“What is it?” He whirled around to find me kneeling.

“Nothing. Nothing,” I said, fighting to hold my body still. Angry men hit. They cut and bruised and found ways to make me shut up.“I’m sorry.”

“What?”

Angry, still.Don’t move, I told myself. If I’m invisible, maybe I can stay safe. I stared at a scuff on the tip of his boot, where he must work that lever on his bike.

He crouched down in front of me. “No, Maddie. I am the sorry one. A sorry sack of shit, but... that’s just, well, it’s ancient history.”

We sat there on the floor in silence for several minutes. Then I worked up the courage and said, “You can punish me if you want. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“What?” he barked again. “Not a fucking chance in hell. It’s not your fault at all.”

“I only meant to make things just right for you.” I didn’t know what more to say. Everything I’d done today had been to make him happy. To serve him. I needed him to tell me what to do. Or if he’d just punish me, I’d know what to not do again.

Cook’s firm hands gripped me around the upper arms and hauled me to my feet. “Listen to me. There will be no punishment for this.”

“You won’t lock me in here alone?”

“Never.”

“And you won’t—”

“I’ll never do anything to you that you don’t want, hear me?” He forced my chin up. “Eyes on me.”

I obeyed, like his words were a string that lifted my gaze by force. But I didn’t have to try to obey or resist. Following that order was as easy as falling asleep or breathing.

Cook breathed deeply and let his head fall backward.

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