Page 50 of Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

15.

Livvy

This recovery took less time than the first, and I’d managed not to puke. It’s funny. Not ha-ha funny, the other kind. The pain is unimaginable when it happens. Worse than any pain I’ve ever experienced in my life. And I think he wants it to linger, but since the first time, it doesn’t.

Once he left and the impact burn calmed, it’s now just a bad memory. And that’s the funny part. The man responsible for helping bring on my breakdown is now helping to treat me. Who would’ve thought Houdini would aid in my recovery?

He won’t break me this time. I won’t let him. Gage and I deserve our happy ending. As long as I keep remembering myself, we’ll get there.

Once again, I crawl around on the dirty metal floor checking for weak spots. Rust spots. Something. Anything. Nothing so far. I make it to the door and pull hard to no avail. I’d figured it would be useless before even trying.

Well, nothing for it, I keep going. Crawling on my hands and knees slowly looking for something that might help me escape. When I reach the mattress, I crawl up and keep dragging my hand between the fabric and wall, making sure my nails scrape the floor. Dirt and other crud collects beneath the nails until they hit a loose rivet. A loose rivet.

I flip the mattress up and begin to dig at it. Catching the nail, it rips harshly away at the quick. The damn thing bleeds hard enough that I can feel my heartbeat at the wound. Without thinking, I bring my finger up to suck on the tip, hoping to ease some of the pain, vaguely aware that I might be exposing myself to tetanus. When had I gotten my last tetanus shot? Too long to remember, which means too long to be effective.

Whatever, the blood seems just enough to slick the rivet, enabling me to dig it free. The small hole the rivet left behind isn’t enough to work with. It’s not rusty or broken. I look from the hole to the door, then back again.

I wonder…Standing, I move back over to the door and drop to look at the rail the door slides open and closed along. An idea comes to mind. It’ll either work or get me killed, but it’s all I have. The only thing I have.

Another boon from the little rivet hole is the small amount of light that filters inside. No windows. Stagnate air. It gets so warm in here during the day. So warm that most of the time I have to strip the tee from my body and laze around naked, like now, because I can’t stand to have anything touch my skin. And I can’t sit on the mattress for fear of my sweat dampening it. I found that out the hard way. That night had been unpleasant to say the least. It’s never fun to sleep on a wet spot. The way the temperatures drop at night, damp and cold. I shivered harder that night than I have any time since.

I shiver every night.

The little hole is like a private window for only me to know about. Not Houdini.

Except for meeting Logan Hollister—the man who would becomeHoudini—back in the day, I never used to keep anything from Gage. He was supposed to be Raif’s best friend, but in reality, he’d been mine.

He’d brought me coffee every morning. Chocolate for my periods. I’d never paid for a movie ticket or dinner out. Hell, we’d been dating long before we’d ever dated.

And most importantly, he’d been there for me, to take care of me, through every major life- shitstorm the world had thrown at me.

“She’s gone, Gage.” I wipe the tears away with the sleeve of my blouse, though it’s no use. They keep coming.

“Shh…” He holds me, placing tiny kisses along my temple as he smooths my hair down.

“She’s gone,” I whisper through my sobs.

Gage shifts me so I sit on his lap. “She left you a long time ago, Liv.”

The drugs had taken hold of my mother years before. Pretty much right after I was born, when she finally realized my father had used her and his only intent was to continue using her as his club whore. But she wasn’t exclusive. My father passed her to any brother who had a taste for young, pretty and naïve.

“But now I’m all alone.”

“No. You got Raif and your pop.”

I don’t have Raif, he treats me like he’s embarrassed by me. He treats me like if he’s caught being nice to me by his mother or anyone who could report back to his mother, he’d be betraying his mother. Because Misti hates me.

And I never had my father. He never even showed up to see me born. From what Mom said, he never visited her in the hospital, helped pay for medical costs or even came to pick us up when she’d been released.

When I was six I found out from a club whore who my father had been fucking, that he’d been fuckingherthe night my mother gave birth.

The club whore thought it was funny. Laughed as she blew cigarette smoke in my face.

Gage knows this. He knows all about it. So for him to even imply what he implied—I start to push up from his lap, but Gage holds me tighter. “Then you got me, baby. And that will never change.”

He presses his forehead to mine, uses his thumb to wipe away my tears and then leans in to capture my lips. His plump, wet lips devour me with that simple touch. He’d never kissed my lips before. Cheeks or forehead for years, never lips. I sink into his kiss, giving myself over through my mouth, the delicate touches from my fingertips.

The new tears fall for a completely different reason. My heart feels so full. He pulls back only enough to look into my eyes. “I love you, Liv. I’min lovewith you. When you turn eighteen, I’ll take you away from here. Promise, baby.” He presses another sweet, loving kiss to my lips.

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