Page 2 of To Have and to Hold

My nights were often spent remembering the fun we’d had until he was taken from me four years ago, sent off to college in a different country to begin his job of gaining connections or whatever else they had him do to curry favor. The boys got education, we got sexual slavery. I wondered a lot if this was always my path, or when it might have changed. My childhood was cold, but there was a significant shift when I started to develop, to grow. There was a moment, Mum and Dad arguing, screaming and throwing things, then… nothing. Everything changed.

I smiled at Theo, the only reason I had any street smarts at all. I wouldn’t even know what sexual slavery was if he hadn’t spoken to me about it. Spent long hours sitting with me in my room, answering all my questions about the outside world before they shipped him off.

Theo smirked, resting his hip on the edge of the banister as he took me in. We’d already seen each other during the family pictures, the awkward, stiff posings on the lawn of the church with my mother at one side, and my father at the other. No one asked me to smile, and I didn’t. I don’t think anyone did. Just seven people glaring at the camera, some from fear, some condescension.

My sisters made no sound at all, and Theo and Charlie muttered amongst themselves as the sun shone in our eyes and the photographer directed us into various groups. ButRafael requested some pictures of me alone, in this tower. A family tradition. A bloody weird one, if you asked me. It was confronting, being alone so close to the ceremony. Like, a test. A trick? Another thing I didn't know.

Maybe they thought I would jump.

This bell tower was the perfect height to throw yourself to your depths. I’m sure it was a trial of endurance, could we make it through the temptation and not end it all before the worst day of our lives? Flashes of red and white splattered across the green made me smile.

“You doing okay in there?” Theo asked, stepping into my space and tapping my forehead twice with the tip of his finger. He looked out the window, down the staggering height, and raised his eyebrows before focusing on me again. “Don’t do it,” he joked.

As siblings, our parents had never let us be close. Not since we were children, and it was easier to lock us in a room together to play and entertain each other. But I still felt such a warmth for him, for all the times he’d snuck in to see me anyway. He was four years older than me at twenty-two, had completed college here in the US at Father’s request, and was in the process of being swallowed up into the family, into everything horrific they did. I saw the changes in him every time he came home, bulkier, darker, his eyes colder. But for me, always warmth. Affection.

And he slipped me things when he was able, keeping me sane since I was fourteen and felt truly alone for the first time. Treats. Books. A phone six months ago when he was allowed to drop into my room to inform me dinner was ready and I could come down. He put it under my pillow with instructions and his number already loaded in.

We texted when we could, always him sending me photos of the outside world, snippets of life beyond my bedroom walls. But it wasn’t enough. I wanted to experience that world, too. Icraved it. But I would never tell him to stop. That phone was now smashed to pieces and buried in the garden behind the family home, never to be found again.

I did it when he refused to tell me more about what he called the dirty church, but I knew it must have another name. I'd begged, and he'd refused, hanging up on me when I snapped and yelled at him, begged him.

Breaking it made me ache, but it wasn’t like I had the option to bring it with me. We’d lost that connection, that link. And it was agonizing. Seeing him now, with no one else around, settled me a tiny bit, even if he'd kept some truths from me. Maybe he didn't know them himself. We were all pawns here.

“Definitely not okay,” I told him, enjoying the rush of warmth from having him close. Someone that loved me. Cared for me. “But I’m not going to jump.” I paused. “It would hurt too much.” I bit a smile back and caught his eye. “And it would be toogarish.”

Theo snorted and slapped his cheeks in mock-shock. Our mother’s number one crime was to be garish. Vulgar. Unbecoming. It only made me want to do it more. Fuck something up somehow. Walk down that aisle knowing all wasn’t perfect for her. For him. I could slip a knife into my bra, along with that pin, and stab Rafael in the face with it just before the ‘I do’s’. I wouldn’t make it back down the aisle with all my blood still in my body, but worth it. Smiling at the scene, lost in it for a moment, I imagined the screams from mother, the fury from father…

“Where’d you go?” Theo asked, and I focused on the room again to find him closer, his brow furrowed, his hands clenched tight into fists even though his face was soft, he leaned in to me like he wanted to do more. He was the gentlest of my brothers, never seemed outwardly suited to the life, and now, as he lookedat me with those dark blue eyes we shared, my heart squeezed with warmth.

“Just… contemplating the rest of the day,” I admitted, skirting around the truth of the havoc I longed to wreak. How much damage could I do? The pawn that I was? If I jumped, would they just swap me out with one of my sisters and hope Rafe didn’t notice? It was a strong possibility.

“I know that look.” Theo raised his hand and tucked a stray hair behind my ear, before pulling his phone from his pocket and snapping a picture of me. I could feel the warmth from his body in this cold, dusty room, so open and windy, the massive disused bell in the middle taking most of the space. Weird tradition.

And the photographer was still held up, my mother probably talking his ear off about how to photograph me right, so I didn’t look like an ogre. How to hide all my worst bits, so Rafael didn’t decide to call for an annulment the second the photos were in his possession. I snorted. Like he could get an annulment, there was no way I would be getting out of my wedding night with my virginity intact.

“Vi,” Theo said. “You seem…” He frowned, huffed. Paused. “I wish I had a solution to get you another phone. Something so we can still chat. It sucks, you know. We’re going to be only hours apart, but it will be like we’re on different planets.”

“I hate that,” I muttered. He was my only light in this dark world. A good big brother. Friend. He seemed to get me when no one else did. Or he was just patient enough to try. He wanted to know me.

“Yeah,” he agreed, before pulling me for a warm hug. A careful one, so my make-up didn’t smudge and my dress didn’t wrinkle, but still filled with so much love and kindness, I had to fight back those threatening tears again. Maybe I would jump. Have this be the last time someone touched me. It wouldn’t be a bad way to go.

“This is so strange,” I sighed, stepping away from him and throwing my arms up with a huff before plonking my butt on the windowsill instead of chucking my body over it. Theo’s eye twitched to see me so precarious, but he didn’t move. "I don't know what any of this means but I'm expected to accept it with quiet and willingness."

I leaned back, my fingers digging into the stone underneath my thighs.

“Vi…” Theo said, his voice low, tentative. His finger stretched and strained like they needed to reach for me, like I was a wild animal he was afraid would pounce, and he wanted to contain me.

For a moment, I allowed the idea of slipping away to wash over me, the thought that I might just release my grip and fall… fall down down to a fast, sharp end. I tipped my head back and enjoyed the gentle blow of the breeze in my hair, of the heat from the sun on my skin. It was so, so tempting to let go. It would be simple. It would hurt. But then it would be done. So much pain avoided in the long run.

“Violet, honey,” Theo implored, and even though my eyes stayed shut, I knew he hadn’t moved.

“Take my picture,” I muttered to him, my eyes still shut, my body still leaning almost too far out of the bell tower. If anyone on the grass below looked up, they’d see me, maybe panic.

Theo’s legs brushed mine, and he sighed. I think he did as I asked, but I didn’t check. I just positioned myself in the light and stretched the muscles in my arm a fraction more. He was close enough to catch me now, anyway.

“Don’t do it, Violet,” Theo said, his voice imploring, but still cool. Like a loud noise would trigger me. Tip my urge for death over the edge and send me flying to the greenery below. I hoped my guts and organs splattered up the wall of the church, staining it forever.

It was gentle. Soft. But I didn’t flinch when Theo’s hands landed over mine, pinning me where I sat. He was so close, his warm breath fluttering over my hair.

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