Page 80 of The Masks She Wore

?My brows furrowed at the look in her eyes. “For what?”

?Her throat bobbed, her head falling into her arm. “For finally erasing what he did.”

?I stilled, studying her. Studying the way she shook, the way her muscles flexed, trying to compensate for the position of her body. Did she go out tonight to get back at me and to erase the memories of what he had done because I hadn’t been here to do it for her?

?It didn’t excuse her decisions, but I did understand it a little more. Fuck. “Come here, Princess,” I finally said, carefully reaching for the ropes around her wrists. “Let’s get you washed up.”

17

Rae

November 16th, 2019

Everything was sore for the 7thmorning in a row. My throat, my wrists, my thighs, mystomach. Everything, and my head was throbbing.

?My skin had been rubbed raw everywhere the ropes had touched. I was exhausted and spent, in every way a person could be exhausted, but I felt amazing too.

?A week of being locked in this room, tied up in various ways, fucked in ways I could never imagine. It had been the best most exhausting week of my life.

?Something was different this morning thoughbecause the routine we had gotten into had shifted. Usually, as soon as I stirred in the morning, he was forcing water down my throat, forcing me to eat, brushing my teeth, and tying me up again.

?I particularly liked the doggy-style position. I wore my favorite Louboutin heels. He tied a T-rod across my hips, forcing them up, and then tied my wrists to my ankles, forcing my forehead into the bedsheets. He then tied my ankles down, tying them off to some metal rings he had installed under the bed.

?He must have lined the bottom of my bed with over a dozen of them, because it seemed like no matter what position he had me in, there was always a ring he could tie me too.

?But this morning the bed was empty, and the water was on my bedside with a note that said ‘Drink’.

?I closed my eyes and sagged back into the bed, releasing a sigh. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved for a break or disappointed that he didn’t think I could take more.

?Could I?

?I wasn’t completely positive, but I would have given it my very best shot.

?In a world that didn’t make sense, Jack did. His want for me was clear. Not muddled by forgotten memories or unclear intentions. Everything he did had a purpose. Everything he did was intentional. It made sense.

?What didn’t make sense was everything else.

?This is what they didn’t tell you about the best night, or in my case the best week of your life. The mental drain it had on you when you finally had a moment to think.

?I didn’t want a break, I decided. Not because my body could take anymore, but because I wasn’t ready to think. About any of it. If it were an option, I would avoid the whole ‘what comes next’ forever.

?It took all of my strength to get up, to get to the bathroom and go through the process of getting ready for the day.

?I stared into the mirror as I brushed my teeth, my hair matted, gauze wrapped around my wrists, my waist, the bandages on my hips where his nails had dug in, the bruises around my neck, my breasts.

?Something in my mind had altered this last week. And not in the ‘best sex of my life’ kind of way, but the kind of way that changed a person permanently.

?Or maybe that came with the identity crisis I was having now that I had a moment to think.

?I wasn’t Rae Bennett.

?My mom wasn’t Marla Bennett.

?Max wasn’t my brother.

?Viv wasn’t my best friend since High School.

?Did I even go to school?

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