Page 52 of Worth

I snicker at my own words, feeling a tad delirious. Maybe this was it. Maybe the final step of totally losing my mind is a lack of food. And, maybe after that, I’ll have to face the idea that neither man may come back.

There was almost a peace in that—a surrender. I’ll let myself starve to death in this room. I wouldn’t hurt anymore. I wouldn’t be hungry anymore. No one would be able to use me for whatever they wanted because a piece of paper told them I had no rights.

My head lolls to the side as I fight the bile rising in my throat again. Fucking Zander.

My attention perks as I hear footsteps. I haven’t heard any footsteps in days now, so that’s promising. Or at least the stupid hope still lingering in me wants to believe Zander won’t actually let me die in here.

I scoot away from the door as they draw closer, lying flat so I can peek through the space underneath. My breath catches as I see shoes cross the doorway and pause.

With an adrenaline-fueled burst of energy, I sit up. “Zander, I need food,” I call, and I hate how weak I sound. “Please. I need food.”

There’s no response. I lay flat again and the shoes are still there, unmoving. I open my eyes after a moment and the world around me spins, making me realize shoes were never there. I don’t even know how long ago I thought someone had walked by. Something cracks in my chest and I do something I have done an alarmingly increasing amount of times.

I cry.

Tears soak into the carpet under my face, my eyes still staring at the emptiness beyond the door, as sobs break in my throat.

Mordecai hadn’t broken me by abandoning me to his father.

Stephen hadn’t broken me by selling me.

Damien hadn’t broken me by raping me.

But in seven days, Zander has broken my will to survive by starving and isolating me so much that I’m hallucinating. It’s amazing how I have been beaten, abused, and violated in so many ways, yet denying me food was doing me in.

I don’t know how long I had been laying on the floor, staring at nothing. Minutes? Hours? Days?

“Blake.”

I blink. Fucking awesome. Now I’m hearing things.

“Blake.”

My eyes try to focus and, in the split second they do just that, I realize the door is open. I go to sit up, pushing up on my arms, but they buckle as a dry heave overcomes me, and I face plant on the floor mid-retch.

“Fuck.” Zander’s voice rings around me. “Blake, goddamnit, come on.”

I try to move or respond or do anything to indicate that I’m not as bad as I seem. I really do. But it’s like knowing that someone is finally here has completely drained any bit of strength I had left.

“Fuck,” Zander says again, but louder this time. I want to laugh at how he actually sounds upset because we both know that this is exactly where he wanted me.

A groan rips out of me as I’m lifted. “You win,” I whisper, my head flopping against Zander’s chest.

“Where the fuck is Aiden?” he mumbles, ignoring my concession to him.

I’m jostled as Zander moves down the stairs. “Left. Hasn’t come back,” I murmur.

“Quit talking.” It’s a direct order. “You’re burning energy you should be conserving.”

I’m set down on the kitchen counter and I flinch as the cold of the granite seeps through my clothes and into my bones. Things bang and slam around me, but I don’t even try to look, eyes closed so I won’t see the way the world is circling like a merry-go-round. Shit, for that matter, I might still be hallucinating the way I hallucinated those footsteps.

“Blake, I’m going to sit you up,” Zander says, tapping my hand.

Without waiting for acknowledgement—not that I could have given it to him—he pulls me upright, keeping my ass on the counter, but allowing me to lie against him, my back to his chest. Something smooth touches my lips.

“It’s broth.” I can feel the rumble of Zander’s words through his chest. “Can you take a sip?”

I part my lips enough to allow Zander to slip the end of a straw between them. It takes effort, but I manage to suck broth into my mouth. The mild flavor is like dynamite in my mouth, but it’s the warmth I relish as I swallow the liquid. More nausea creeps into my chest, but I steadily sip at the broth, anyway.

---