Page 27 of Ruined

Jace glances over the paper as I write it, nodding along.

“That’s a shame, we should look into it so we can learn it.” He smiles, taking another drink of his coffee. “Is she making breakfast? I’m starving.”

I nod my head to his question, only Jace doesn’t seem satisfied with that answer.

“I like it when you speak.”

Frowning, I tilt my head to the side.

“I would like it if you would write what you’re saying down and teach me sign language so I can talk to you. It’s going to take an old man like me a few tries, but I’m willing to learn. That is, if you’ll teach me?”

What?

I’m sure it’s written all over my face how confused I am, and that I’m shocked. He wants to learn ASL, and not only learn, but he wants me to teach him.

“Come on, write it down, teach me. What’s she making?” he asks. I know he can see what Luna is making. Not only can you smell the distinct scent of the cinnamon rolls, but the package is still on the counter.

“I can wait all day, Sunshine.”

Rolling my eyes, I grab the pen and paper once more. Writing it down, I wait for Jace to read it before turning his attention towards me and my hands. Once again, I wasn’t sure if there was ASL for cinnamon roll, but I knew I could spell it out. Slowly I repeat the word before Jace starts to mimic me. After the tenth time, he finally grasps the idea and is able to sign it.

“Now, I’m assuming that long sign language wasn’t the actual word cinnamon roll.”

Shaking my head, I drag the paper over, ‘No, but again, I’m not sure what it is. Or if there is a word for it, but that was how you spell it. In case you didn’t know how, you know, cinnamonrolls.’

Jace chuckles. “Ah, so you are a smart ass. I like it.”

“They’re done,” Luna speaks up, sliding two plates over.

I pick up the fork, seconds from taking a bite when Jace switches our plates. I look over, confused as to why he did, and Luna must be wondering the same thing. But neither of us gets to ask before he’s answering our unasked question.

“What? You gave me more, but she likes her sweets, especially cinnamon rolls.”

And if I didn’t think I could like Jace any more, he just proves me wrong.

After breakfast, Luna and Jace talk in the kitchen while I head back into the room and lie down. After eating almost five cinnamon rolls and half an egg, due to Jace telling me I needed more than just sweets for breakfast, I could feel my eyes drooping, and tiredness crawling in my head. I wanted to sleep, but no matter the amount of tossing and turning I do, I can’t get comfortable, and I’m afraid it’s because I fell asleep for once with someone else in the bed with me. And I felt safe.

Damn him.

Rolling onto my back, I let out a silent sigh, listening to their muffled voices through the wall. The only way I ever get to sleep by myself is with the bed on the floor and up against the wall. I’m safe, no one can get me from behind, and I can keep my eyes on the area around me. I can’t like this—someone could be hiding under the bed or worse, come in through the window.

Just at the thought of it, my eyes snap to the window, the sun shining through. Grabbing the blanket, I jump off the bed and head into the bathroom. The second option is the tub. It isn’t ideal, since he broke the door, but I can at least crawl into the tub and cover myself with the blanket. The skylights let just enough of the sunlight in that I can see clearly, but it’s dark enough that the moment I close my eyes and focus on counting backward, I drift off to sleep.

“Think we can just sell her?” One of the men asks behind me. I try to open my eyes, to remember all their faces. I need to remember, but I can’t. They did something to me and now I can barely move. My body is numb. I can barely feel when they bring the poker stick closer to my body.

“Yeah, once we find out where those shipments are,” another one answers, chuckling under his breath.

“I want to sample her beforehand,” Henry growls.

That grabs my attention, but I can’t move. I try to lift my finger, but I’m too weak. Dad would be ashamed of me. I might not have spoken, but I’m breaking.

“Sample her?”

“No,” I weakly mumble. I don’t know how I get the strength to tell them that, but I know it’s not enough. I’ve already tried and begged for them to stop.

“What was that?” Henry’s whiskey-filled breath hits the side of my face. I gag, acid filling my mouth as his rough hand presses against the back of my neck.

Against my better judgment, I mumble, “No,” again. This only stirs him more, Henry cackles, putting more pressure on the back of my neck. I don’t have time to fight, or the strength. I barely hear the sound of his pants being unzipped before Henry rips my underwear down. He shoves into me, ripping away my virginity in one thrust. I scream at the top of my lungs, tears streaming down my face. I claw at the ground, trying to crawl away.

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