Page 41 of Pretty Stolen Dolls

Rushing to the door, I place my hand there, dreaming of the day when our palms will touch again.

“Shhh, Macy,” I urge, terrified she’ll wake him.

He became angry with us talking one time and did the unthinkable. After binding us, he sewed our lips shut. I remember the way the needle burned as it tore through my flesh with such precision. After the first couple holes, I was numb to the pain—officially checked out mentally. The pain was crippling, but it was the scars that worried me most. He already treated Macy badly because of what he’d done to her face once before. I worried it would leave scars and he wouldn’t want us anymore—that we’d finally be disposable to him. But Benny was an expert with a needle and thread and a few weeks later, the tiny holes healed over with the cream he put on them. Rubbing my finger over my lip, I shudder as I think of all the horrors we’ve faced while under his lock and key.

“I’m bleeding,” she sobs, and my entire body quivers with fear—fear he’ll wake and punish his disobedient little dolls. In my peripheral, I see her hand push through her bars.

“Where?”

“Between my legs,” she hisses. “Am I dying, Jade?”

My heart breaks in two. Mom never had “the talk” with her about periods. She was too young at the time.

“It just means you’re becoming a woman now,” I assure her, trying distractedly to keep the wobble out of my voice. “It will be okay. I promise.” Another promise I can’t keep.

“A woman?”

“Yes. It happens to all girls eventually.”

“Did it happen to you?” She hiccups and sniffles.

“Yes.”

“So, I’m like you now?”

“Yes.”

“Will Benjamin do those things to me now…the ones that make you happy?”

Happy? Shame marinates in my soul.

Will he?

“I’m not a pervert,” he barks, interrupting our exchange. Turning on his cot and getting to his feet, his cold eyes find mine.

He stomps toward us and she whimpers with each step.

“You don’t even have tits,” he remarks, disgust in his clipped tone. “What have I told you about talking to each other?” Anger rolls just under his surface. I can almost see the steam coming off his skin. Like a demon straight from hell.

Looking in her cell, he tuts, “Look at that mess.”

“Leave her alone, you asshole,” I scream, rattling the bars like a trapped chimp.

His attention scans over to me and his feet carry him to my cell. “What?”

“Don’t be a pervert, Benny,” I growl, goading him. His eyes spark and he digs into his pocket, pulling out the key to my door. The door swings open and he takes a menacing step toward my retreating form.

“She’s just a little girl.” I shake my head in repulsion and his head jerks like I hit him.

“I wouldn’t touch her like that,” he snaps, his tone defensive. “I’m not a pervert.”

Shaking my head, I snort. “You touchedmelike that.”

“You’re twenty-one,” he barks in argument, smacking at his head with the palm of his hand.

“No, I’m not,” I seethe. He squeezes his eyes shut and then springs them open, the pupils swallowing the dim color. “You look like you are,” he growls, glaring at me. “I’m not a fucking pervert!” he bellows again. The monster of my world stomps toward me and swings his fist, connecting with my jaw. The impact takes me clean off my feet and I hit the cold floor with a thud.

Pain blazes through me, but I don’t have time to register where before his boot collides with my ribs and a sickening crack steals my breath. He drags me to my feet while I desperately gasp for air.

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