Page 103 of Cherry Auction

Stupid. Stupid fucking piece of shit. Dumb shits like you deserve to be punished. I grip the hand not holding Anna’s into a fist, allowing my nails to cut into my palm. I squeeze my thumb in my fist until it starts to distend and hurt. Then I squeeze harder still.

“Domhnall,” Dr. Ezra says sharply, his tone cutting.

I look up in surprise, only to find his eyes on my fist.

“I think it’s best if you left us.”

Shame floods me. He knows. He can see what I am. I’m so careful all the time to hide it, but he can see.

Still, I cling to Anna’s hand even though I know he’s right. Of course he’s right. I’m no good for her.

But I never said I was a good man. And I always did love inflicting pain, didn’t I? Even now, as I see my presence hurts her, all I want to do is to cling tighter.

She’s mine, and I won’t let her go.

His protégé in truth, then?

I’m stabbed through the chest by the thought. Forcing my fingers to release her, I let go of Anna’s hand and stand.

Control is an illusion.

I was a fool to think different. Such a fucking fool.

I turn my face away from the three peoplein the room, every part of my body flooding with the heat of shame. I keep my face hidden from them as I hurry out the door.

Today, though, I won’t allow myself the solace of the whip. For once, I deserve to feel this pain in my chest, not my skin.

The easy escape of physical pain is a cop out. But without it to punish myself, all I can do is sit and stare endlessly at Anna’s unmoving figure on the screen in my office. This is the torture I deserve.

FORTY-TWO

ANNA

“It’s time, I think,”I say with a heavy heave of breath.

It’s taken so much courage to get to this point, I feel light-headed even saying it.

With Dr. Ezra’s help over the past month, we’ve made enough progress for me to come out of my dissociative state long enough to realize that I’ve got a mixed-up set of memories with the trauma wires all crossed.

It’s clear that me andherare both living here inside my head. Sometimes neither of us are in control and I’m just…floatingoutside my body. The doc and I haven’t figured out what the hell that’s about. Other than like, my body flushing trauma or some shit.

He makes me do a lot of breathing.

Then there’s other times whenshe…I sigh in distress. She takes over and completely shuts down whenever Domhnall comes near me.

Apparently she’ll get chatty with Dr. Ezra, and other times she clams up.

But she won’t tell him anything else other than that Donny and “the girl” aren’t good for each other. And she’s got to protect us both. From each other, apparently. Whatever the fuck that means.

I can’t fucking believe she calls me “the girl.” And thinks of me as a goddamn child. I mean, was she watching the x-rated things Domhn and I got up to? Jesus.

I can’t communicate directly with her. Time’s been really wishy-washy lately. I wake up and it’s light. Apparently she’s taking the night shift again, and it’s not going well. Dr. Ezra had us try journaling so we could “talk” to each other.

Dear her, would you please stop being such a stubborn bitch and let us be happy with Donny?

Dear the girl, would you please shut the fuck up and let those who are wiser and stronger do the fucking protecting like we’ve done since you were a child? Which apparently you still are because you won’t listen to those who are way stronger and smarter than you could ever dream of being?

Dear her, have you fucking forgotten who was the strong one in our recent major throwback moment with our demon?Pretty sure you were the little bitch, and I was the one who stepped up. So let us be fucking happy now!!!

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