Page 75 of Make Her Bleed
Strangely, I don't want him to pull away or leave me alone.
Human contact. It's the strangest thing. Sometimes a single touch is enough to revive a cold, dead heart and give life purpose. Other times, it's enough to destroy someone's soul.
"Rowe," I admit and more tears fall.
"Come on." Dax lifts me into his strong arms and my arms loop around his neck as he carries me down the hall to my room. More tears fall as he takes me to my bathroom and sets me down on the toilet.
I wait to see what it is he has planned, but it looks like all he's doing is drawing a bath with the ocean-scented bubbles I've never used.
"Kai said I can't bathe without his permission or I'll be punished," I say, wanting to avoid as much torture as possible.
Dax nods, pulls out his phone, and types away at it. A minute later, his phone dings and he shoves it in his pocket.
"You have his permission," Dax informs as he moves back over to me. "Let's get you in the bath."
A nice soak might be nice. I'm at the crossroad where I don't want to take off my shirt, but I also don't want to be alone or look crazier than I do. I bite the bullet and pull my shirt over my head before dropping it to the floor. I discard my bra as well before stepping into the blazing hot water. It feels so good on my bruised skin as I slip in and let the bubbles hide my nudity.
"Is Rowe also responsible for the bruises?" Dax asks after a minute of silence, my tears finally running dry.
"No. That's Kai. He's always beating me or raping me or punishing me for breaking one of his stupid rules. I'm his punching bag."
Dax sits silently on the floor next to the bathtub as the water starts to fill. Once it reaches a certain level, he reaches over and shuts it off, his knee bouncing anxiously as he sits there.
I don't say anything.
He doesn't speak … not for a long time.
"My mom … always took hot baths filled with bubbles afterward. It would make our apartment smell like lavender and the forest, but I knew that strong smell meant she was breaking," he explains.
I look at him and see the tears falling down his face, his full lips stiffen to hide the trembling.
"After what?" I ask.
"After she was raped…each time it happened. She said it helped with the pain." He takes a ragged breath before speaking again. "She was a prostitute. She had a lot of mental issues, horrible bipolar. When she was manic, she loved doing what she did. When she was depressed, she wanted out desperately. She was in it for so long and Royal City isn't a huge place so everyone knew she was a prostitute. No one would give her a chance to prove she could change so she kept having sex for money, kept being beaten up and raped. She had one specific John who made me watch. He would tie me to a chair and force me to watch as they beat her then him and his friend would take turns on her … then force me to … touch her."
Oh, my god. What kind of sick fucks makes a boy touch his mother like that?
"I was only five the first time I met them. They kept coming around until I was twelve. Then … they made me rape her."
A part of me wants to vomit. Another part wants to hug him because of how broken he looks. I can tell he loves his mom and this memory fucks with him.
"They made her drink something before and I didn't know at the time, but she was dead before they pushed me onto her. They made me rape my mother's corpse and I was too scared to tell them no or to try to run away."
My entire body cringed at the thought. He was just a kid. His mother wasn't the only one who was violated. So was he. He was emotionally wrecked by what he was forced to do.
"Dax …" I want to reach out to him, pull him into my arms and tell him everything is going to be okay, but I don't know that it will. Some things change people forever and nothing will ever bring his mom back from the dead.
He looks up at me with tears in his eyes. I nod toward the bath. I think he understands because he undresses and climbs in the tub with me. I move over to him and lean against his chest as his arms cage me to his warm chest. My fingers trace the tattoo nearly hidden by his dark skin. The black ink blends in and nearly disappears but I barely make out a full moon with a heart inside it.
"What is this tattoo for?" I ask, tracing the lines of the moon.
"My mom. She loved the moon." He places a soft kiss on my forehead, trailing his fingers down my back. "You remind me of her."
I smile but it's hard to contain the laughter. "Are you saying I'm like a prostitute?"
I look up at him and we both start cackling like a couple of hyenas, clinging to each other in this moment of peace.
Dax runs his fingers through my hair and smirks at me more affectionately than I thought he was capable of before. He's not a cold fish like Kai. Just … guarded. Not right now though. Now he's open.
