Page 164 of My Sweet Dollie, You Have to Love Me
Her voice blurs in my ears before it’s snatched away and replaced by Colin. His hand presses into my face. More stains appear on his glove in the form of my blood as his fingers break through my cheeks and prod at my teeth. He tosses me into the water, and Dollie’s touch falls away from me.
Desperation pulls me from the filth, and I rush to get back to her. For the first time, it isn’t because she needs me. It’s becauseI need her. I need the phantom feel of him off of me. I need her comfort.
But I don’t get there.
I’m inches away when she reaches for me, a look of fear in her eyes that seems to have grown rapidly in the last few seconds.
Colin pulls me back, his hand tight around my throat until I can’t breathe. Breaths splutter uselessly as he lifts me into the air. I don’t try to peel him away because I can’t bring myself to touch him, to have more of his smell on me.
You like his smell,my cruel mind lies.
“No, I don’t,” I mumble, barely audible.
His lips brush the shell of my ear, and I recoil over the thought of his lips being on me again.
“How are those voices today?”
Loud. Torturous. Repetitive.
You like his voice.
I blink away the lie.
The death grip around my throat tightens, and I not only hear the blur of Mom’s voice, but I see her face. I see Dad, Dollie, and my old family back in Ireland. I see myself leaving Ireland, my accident, the old apartment, our spooky old house, and that spoiled brat next door telling us we can’t go to a party. I see the playground and the monster who took us from there, and all the torture he’s given us since, as my whole life flashes before my eyes.
“Do you want it to end here, Ambrose? Do you want your miserable little life to end?”
Yes…
Dollie talks for the first time in days. “No, please, don’t. I need him. We need each other. Please, don’t hurt him. I need him.”
Blocking out the sound of her sobs, I focus only on Colin.
“We need to sort out that fucking face of yours. My wife is here for Christmas. She’ll help.”
She’ll help…it’s all I hear, and a flutter of hope tells me this is my chance.
“But Dollie…” I try to talk, and my eyes lower to the blood falling over his hand.
“Dollie will be safe, where she is, and still avoiding that big and scary crocodile that just bit my leg. Ouch!” His cold stare is on her when he screams out.
Wide blue eyes flick between me and the water that soaks my lower legs.
“Lift your legs,” she whispers.
But my attention is on Colin.
“She’ll be waiting for you to get back. Nothing will happen to her if you do as I ask because when we’re done, I have a job for you.” He throws my body at the stairs and demands, “Walk! Go on, get!”
I feel like some kind of animal.
A weak and battered animal on my way to slaughter, but for Dollie, I climb the stairs. Each step is a struggle due to all the injuries my healing leg has suffered these past few months.
Colin’s hands land on me again, on my rear, and it encourages me to move faster when I look and see they are really there, and it isn’t just my broken mind playing tricks.
A brass doorknob and squeaky hinges lead me into his kitchen.
“Sit,” he tells me, pointing at the island where the mess from his breakfast still lingers.
