Page 119 of Doubts & Fears

A Stupid Nobody

Iwas having a hard time standing. My knees were too weak. Marcus easily picked me up, and I hooked one hand around his neck, whimpering.

“Marcus, please stop this. Don’t let them fight.” But it was too late. The silence was shattered by an audible swoosh of a fist cutting through the air. Then came the sickening thud as knuckles connected with flesh and Sarah’s screams.

“Such a foolish little girl. When are you going to learn, Ms. Taylor?” he murmured against the top of my head.

“He told his father I was nobody special.” I sobbed hard in his arms while he chuckled, tightening his grip.

“As I said, such a foolish little girl.”

With the calmness I’d come to expect, he set me down. My bare feet brushed against the cool pavement. The sensation grounded me amid the chaos. I climbed in, but the door barely clicked shut, before it was torn open, shattering the moment of calm. Alek, Nik, and Ivan got in. I looked out the window, deeply embarrassed and at a loss for words.

“Your blade, Brother,” Nik snarled, making my head whip around. “If I ever catch you wearing another man’s shirt, I’ll fucking kill him where he stands.”

Before I could register what he was talking about, he wielded Ivan’s blade, slicing through the fabric of Roger’s T-shirt. The audible rip echoed in the car. I yelped, covering my exposed chest, and sobbed. He tossed it back to Ivan and unbuttoned his dress shirt.

I sat there, my limbs heavy and unresponsive, as he pried my hands away. Gently, he dressed me in his shirt, fastening the buttons. A cold sensation crept through my body, leaving me numb inside.

As soon as we got home, I ran to my room, ripping the clothes off my body. I darted into the bathroom, sobbing and feeling humiliated. My makeup was amess. The mascara I had put on was smeared, and my eyes were swollen from crying.

After splashing cool water on my face, I took a long, hot shower and tried to wash the shame away. It didn’t work. I switched the water off, stepped out, and wrapped myself in a soft towel. All I needed now was some pajamas.

Preferably nothing of theirs. But to my dismay, I couldn’t find any clothes I’d purchased for myself. They were gone. It looked like the damned Reaper had replaced more than my panties. I yanked one of the drawers open again.

For a nobody who wasn’t special, they sure spent a lot of money on my wardrobe. Everything was silk and lace and screamed extravagance. I settled on a black silk set and put it on.

I took off the earrings and put them back in the box. Quietly, I opened my door and peered down the hall. Once I knew I was alone, I hurried to Alek’s room. I put the box on his nightstand so he would see it and then rushed back to the sanctuary of my own room.

My bed was calling, promising me comfort and safety. I wrapped the heavy duvet tightly around me as silent sobs racked my body. The surrounding darkness bore witness to the turmoil churning inside. A while later, I was awakened when the three of them barged into my room. The resounding bang from Alek flinging open the door startled me.

“What are you doing in here and not in Ivan’s bed?” he demanded.

What did he care? It wasn’t his night. They dragged me from the bed, and I groaned. What did they want now?

“How could you have left like that?” Alek asked.

Words were nonexistent at this point, so I remained silent. I fixed my gaze on a distant point beyond his shoulder and retreated to somewhere safe in my head. I was seven and on stage with Pasha in my sparkly teal leotard. My mama had let me wear eyeshadow that night, and I remembered thinking I was so grown-up.

“Answer me,” Alek demanded. He clutched my shoulders, giving them a vigorous shake. The movement yanked me from the faraway dream place I’d ventured into.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat it, Sir?”

The flat and robotic tone of my voice only reflected how numb I’d become. Alek sighed in response and let my shoulders go. He moved ever so slightly, and I caught sight of myself in the mirror behind him.

“Why would you do something so damn stupid, baby girl?” Nik asked, and hearingstupidandgirlin the same sentence triggered old demons.

Pushing past Alek, I was drawn to my reflection. “I’m a stupid little girl.” And once I began, I couldn’t stop. I said it four times in a row, repeating it the way I had been taught.

After the coffin incident, the Mask made me stand in front of the mirror every morning and every evening. I always had to say it in English, Russian, French, and in Mandarin. It was automatic.

I had to repeat that I was a stupid little girl until he asked a specific question or uttered a certain phrase. He would often torment me with the Gorean slave whip, smacking it against my dresser, and sometimes dragging it across my back.

And only after he had felt I’d said it enough times, would he relent and ask, “And who are you, stupid?”

To which I would respond, “I’m a stupid nobody.”

Over and over, the phrase left my mouth. The atmosphere in my room changed instantly. I sensed it, but having worked myself into a trance, I was stuck.

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