Page 110 of The Harbinger

I scowled and closed my mouth, chewing the slick and slimy beads. They exploded in my mouth, giving forth a rush of salt and something sour on my tongue. I opened my throat and swallowed with an audible gulp.

Yuck.

“What was that?” I covered my mouth with my palm as I swallowed the saliva building in my mouth.

“Caviar. It’s a delicacy in Russia.”

I shook my head, the taste still lingering on my tongue. “It’s disgusting,” I muttered, my stomach churning with each passing moment. I dared to mock a gag, hoping to hide the turmoil in my belly from Sacha’s watchful gaze.

He hummed, the little sound coming from his throat as he pressed his lips together and scanned the table. “I can make you gag for real if you prefer?” His voice was low and dangerous, his eyes glittering with a dark intensity that sent shivers down my spine.

Without warning, he found another dollop of meat and cheese and pressed it to my mouth. I took the food, the texture, and the flavor unfamiliar and unsettling. As I chewed, I caught the tip of his fingers between my teeth, my answer to his earlier threat.

My stomach jolted and flipped as he held his fingers there, his gaze darkening with frightening ideas. Only a few seconds had passed before he slid his fingers from my mouth, leaving me gasping for breath.

Meanwhile, Sacha took bites of his fish, eating slowly as though he wanted to prolong my torment. His deliberate pace made me feel like a beggar waiting for scraps, and I chewed the bit of meat and cracker in silence.

“You are… exquisite, Mia,” he said, his voice like honey and poison all at once.

Again my stomach fluttered, and my cheeks burned as I wrung my hands in my lap. How could he give me compliments after such degradation? His words confounded my very essence, leaving me feeling like a marionette controlled by his twisted desires.

Sacha had promised to take care of me, cherish me, and keep me safe. Yet the moment we stepped foot into this house, it was as if a new being had taken over. He’d flipped from the kind words he’d said, promising me everything under the sun, to the man before me—a man who reveled in my discomfort and debasement.

I stayed silent, watching him eat like a hawk stalking its prey, waiting for him to feed me in between his forkfuls. But then he finally placed his utensils down and tossed his cloth napkin onto his plate, leaving my stomach still aflame, begging for food.

“You may be excused,” he said, his voice flat and emotionless.

“We’re… we’re finished?”

Sacha took his cup of tea and sipped it as I rose on shaking legs, letting the tingling batter my bare toes as I used the table for support. He offered no help, not even a glance in my direction.

Used.

Betrayed.

Violent thoughts stirred inside me, feeding into my shame and the overwhelming need to retreat into my room.

I turned away from him and raced up the stairs, my legs working overtime to get there, the need to destroy my reality further clawing its ruinous fixation into my gums. I stumbled into the dark bathroom, bumping into walls and furniture as I fumbled for the light switch, chasing away whatever demonic things followed us home.

Lifting the lid on the toilet back, I dug in for the baggy.

What do you think she’s doing to herself in there?My mother’s voice cooed from behind me, her presence sending shivers down my spine.

I jumped and spun around, searching for her frame leaning in the shadows or staring me down. But she was nowhere to be seen, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the baggy of cocaine I reached for.

You know we can’t keep letting her do this.My father’s voice broke the silence, and my heart lifted at the sound. I cherished each moment a new memory came through, especially those that didn’t leave me writhing in agony.

I turned back to the toilet and fished out the small package, my hands trembling, causing the droplets of water to flick off the bag.

A small hit would ease the tension in my shoulders and bring me back to life, but the memories it would unleash were like a train on a collision course. Were they memories? I wasn’t even sure if the bloody image of my family was real or a figment of my addiction-fueled nightmares brought on by the withdrawal.

I glanced around the corner, checking to make sure Sacha wasn’t lurking, then hurried to the vanity. The powder formed into a thin white line as I cut it with precision—not too much, just enough to take the edge off.

Racing across the bathroom with a rushing pulse, I placed the baggie back in the tank, covered it with the lid, and returned to the counter. The line of powder was still there, mocking me with its temptation. My stomach churned with guilt and unease as I stared at myself in the mirror.

How had I fallen so far?

I had been doing so well, holding strong against the cravings and facing each challenge head-on. But then Sacha had said those words, confirming my deepest fears.

---