Page 38 of CHASE: Captive to the Dark

“If you take me down there, I’ll never forgive you. I’ll press charges and make sure you rot in jail. I’ll…”

The door to the basement slammed open at his push. He ignored my threats as he headed toward the black hole in front of him. The light from the bottom of the closed door was growing smaller with every step down and flashes of heat began to pour from my skin. God, he was going to keep me here in the dark. He was going to torture me with my biggest fears and there was nothing I could do.

“Please! Father!” I clawed at the back of his shirt, punching him as hard as I could. The deeper we went down, the more desperate and savage I became. Sobs were leaving my mouth at such frequency, I couldn’t breathe, but it didn’t stop me from pulling myself forward so I could sink my teeth into his back.

A grunt sounded with his jerk and fire flared over my bare ass once again. With only the T-shirt on, he had easy access. He had me at his mercy.

“Turn on the light,” I managed. “Turn it on...please. I don’t like…the dark.” I was stuttering. My speech was so broken and slurred, it was barely recognizable. What kind of monster trapped a person in their biggest nightmare? I’d told him. He’d seen what happened the last time I was faced with my fears. Why would he do this to me again?

“Father!”

Silence.

The stairs ended and I felt our slow increase into the large basement. Nothing was clear. Nothing but the atmosphere around me and my reaction to it. Cold. The frigid air seemed to seep into my bones, making me tremble on top of the terror I was experiencing. My whole body was shaking with a force I couldn’t begin to control. Yes, I was so cold, just like I used to be. Cold and dark. Dark and cold. I was in hell. A hell created by a person who symbolized all that was holy.

Vertigo overtook me as I was flipped over and placed on the edge of the mattress. Whether we were at the bottom of the bed or on the side, I wasn’t sure. The unfamiliarity left me in a haze. Lost and swirling in instability, I tried to fly up to escape, but a heavy hand held my shoulder.

“When you calm, I will let go. Until then, we will remain as we are.”

The urge to ask why he was doing this almost had the words leaving my lips. Instead, I kept still, quiet, while I tried to slow my racing pulse.

Seconds turned into minutes. Whispering deep in my mind had flashes of Peter’s face appearing and I found my head shaking to try to clear them. A dull thud in my palms from my nails digging in followed every heartbeat. The pain was nothing more than a reminder of my circumstances. Of my past.

“Good.”

I felt Chase lower to what I assumed was his knees before me. When his hands encircled my wrists and he traced his fingertips down to smooth out my fingers, I couldn’t help the calm that weaseled its way through. In soft caresses, he soothed me. The distraction helped and I quickly found the tension easing. His hands encircled mine and my heightened senses had the smell of his spicy soap taking over.

“Bad things happen to us all. The degree may range, but what is clear is the repercussions the actions have. You fear the dark more than you fear me. That I cannot have.”

He lifted my hand, tugging against it as reflex caused me to pull back. When his lips encased my palm, I swallowed hard, waiting.

“You will start from the beginning. You will confess it all. Until you do, we will stay here in the dark. Hours, days, months, the choice will be yours. One thing you can rely on is that unless it has something to do with taking care of you, I will not leave your side.”

I blinked, searching the pitch black. Was it for the understanding as to why he’d do this? Was I looking for answers? I wasn’t sure. The reality sank in and I closed my eyes. My mind screamed to lie. Should I? It was the question weighing the heaviest on my mind. He would know. Somehow, to me, that was clear. After what he was doing, I knew he’d make me pay if I took that route. And it wasn’t worth it. But could I confess like he wanted? Just trying to unscramble the words in my head left my tongue twisted. Nausea was there, too, but not as much as embarrassment. This was my fault. I’d stayed silent for years, allowing the molestation to continue.

“I…can’t.”

Chase’s head lowered to my lap and I knew I could have kicked at him or ripped into his hair, but I didn’t. Fighting would only bring punishment.

“Then we will wait until you’re ready.”

We sat in silence, all the while, the darkness messed with my eyes. Shadows seemed to appear out of nowhere, skirting just along the edge of my vision. The fear returned and Chase’s hold on the side of my upper thighs was my only saving grace for not breaking down completely. Sweat first arrived in a slight sheen across my skin, but increased the longer I held out. The cold intensified until I was shivering again. Warmth radiated from the priest who had made it his mission to cleanse me of this secret, but it wasn’t enough to stop my body’s reaction to the burden it carried.

“It all started five days before my twelfth birthday.” The beginning of the admission threw me right back into my old bedroom. I could feel fingers stroking my face, so light, just brushing slightly above my jaw. I reached up, slapping at my cheek, only to realize it wasn’t real. “Peter. He was Rory’s father. He…”

Time stretched out, lifting the invisible force that kept me quiet with each minute that went by.

“He was wasted the first time. My mom was at work. She used to bartend back then. That’s where they met. I woke up to his fingers stroking my face. My innocent mind couldn’t fathom why he’d be doing that, but I didn’t feel threatened at the time. Just confused. I watched him while he continued to stare at me. Then he said I was pretty.” My eyes closed again and I trembled as a shiver raced down my spine. “That’s when he kissed me. It was just a peck on my lips, but at that age, I’d felt a guilt I couldn’t even begin to understand. I didn’t tell my mom. I thought she’d be mad at me. And I was hoping I could forget about it. Weeks went by and Peter didn’t return. It wasn’t until my grandma died that she had to go out of town. Her and Peter had been dating for almost a year then, and she entrusted him to take care of me while she was gone.”

The tightening of Chase’s hands distracted me, but I felt myself continue.

“That first night seemed normal enough. Now that I think back on it, it wasn’t as it appeared. We ate dinner and he told me to take a shower. It was my routine anyway, so of course I did. What I see now, though, I never saw then. He told me to leave the door open so he could hear if I fell or got hurt. Back then, it made sense. But now…our shower curtain was the clear kind. Not completely, it had designs to warp the way we were perceived. When I got out to grab my towel, I saw him leaning against the doorframe. Again, I thought he was just checking on me. He left and I shut the door to get dressed. Then, I just went to bed. He didn’t come to me then. It wasn’t until the middle of the night that I woke up to him kissing me again.”

“Don’t stop now. Go on, little one.” Chase adjusted his head in my lap and continued to hold on. My back was aching due to how long we’d been in the same position and I knew his knees must have been killing him, but I continued, finding my hand coming to stroke through his hair. It was nerves, a reaction to keep the words flowing, and it helped.

“I didn’t kiss him back. I was too scared to move. All I could smell was the mix of liquor and beer he’d always drank. It was so strong, it was hard for me to breathe. When he pushed his tongue into my mouth, I remember finally turning my face to the side. I started crying then. I wish I wouldn’t have.

“Peter crawled in bed with me, sliding under my covers so he could hold me. He said he was sorry, I was just so pretty, he couldn’t help himself. While I cried, he just continued to hold me. Then, he started kissing me again. And touching. I don’t know why I didn’t fight or try to run. I was just so scared and confused. What type of person does that, Father? Why didn’t I leave then? Why didn’t I try to escape? I didn’t,” I said, feeling tears race down my cheeks. “I let it continue, to get worse, until I was sixteen. Why?”

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