Page 54 of Reclaimed

“Why do you have to be so stubborn?”

Anger began to spark in my chest. How could he chastise me in that moment after everything he’d done?

“I know what you’re doing here.”

“That’s because I told you.”

“You can be smart with me all you want, Callie, but you’re forgetting that I know you better than you know yourself. You’re not hiding from me; you’re punishing yourself for not trying to escape.”

“That’s not true. I was going to try; I would have tried. You just caught me too soon.”

“You had every opportunity to escape and yet you chose to stay. And now you feel ashamed because you know that you don’t really want to leave me at all.”

“You’re so fucking delusional.”

“You don’t need to hate yourself for choosing me.”

I turned to face him. “It’s not me that I hate, it’s you! You keep messing with my mind! If you wanted me broken then congratulations, you got your wish. I don’t know what to think anymore, or who to trust, or what I want, or—”

“Who you love?”

Suddenly the cage felt too small for my restless body. My muscles felt… itchy, like they needed to run a marathon to use up all their energy. That he had the audacity, after what he’d done, to suggest that I… The cage was not big enough to contain my rage, and just like that, my illusion of safety in that prison was shattered. I threw the door open and clambered out before lunging at Ray. I felt my knuckles connect with some part of his face, not hard enough to do any real damage, but enough to surprise him, and enough to hurt. I waited to feel his arms pinning me down, or a returning blow, but nothing came. Ray just stood there looking stunned. My breath hesitated in my chest while I waited for some kind of response. There was no way he would ever let me get away with that.

“Does that make you feel better?”

I felt like a wild creature that had been baited too long, that had finally snapped, and would appear to any rational onlooker as vicious and maybe even dangerous.

“It would take far more hits than that for us to be anywhere close to even,” I spat in response. I didn’t sound like myself. I was never violent. I was always prey, never predator. When I was afraid, I froze; when I was upset, I cried; when I was angry, I kept it inside until it came out as tears later on. The only person who ever got the full brunt of my emotions was me. But now I couldn’t contain them. There wasn’t enough room in my body, in the cage, in that whole house for everything that was swirling around inside me in that moment. I clenched and unclenched my fists. I did want to hurt him. He deserved it. He deserved more pain than I was capable of inflicting.

“Go on then.”

I looked at him questioningly.

“Hurt me. If that’s what you want. If that’s what it takes to earn your forgiveness.”

He looked totally sincere. I scanned his face for any sign that he was going to lose his temper, but I couldn’t find any. I noticed with a slight pang of guilt that his cheek was turning red where I’d hit him.

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“That’s not who I am.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“It doesn’t make you special, Ray. I’ve never hurt anyone; I’m not like that. You’ve just turned me into this person I don’t even recognise.”

“It’s not me doing that, Callie. You think all your conflict is with me, but it’s not. That’s why you won’t hurt me. That’s why you’re hurting yourself.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Look, come downstairs, have some food, have some medicine – let’s talk about this.”

“We’re talking now.”

“You know what I mean.”

“What is it you want to say? Sorry for beating me? You think that will change anything?”

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