Page 37 of Mine

The door opened, creaking.

I fell deeper into thought. The scalpel shone in the light. I saw it turn in my hand, reflecting. I saw the blade, reflecting my face. And then, behind me, in the silver reflection—

“Sara.”

The voice sounded far away, from behind a curtain. I forced myself not to respond. In my mind, though, golden eyes stared at me from the mirror of the scalpel’s blade. Golden eyes and dark hair.

“Sara.”

Rien’s voice was close, now, and I shifted my weight on the couch, stirring even as I told myself to keep my eyes on the scalpel, always on the scalpel. But the scalpel wasn’t clean anymore in my mind. It was red. It dripped blood. My pulse grew fast again, my breaths became more shallow. And then—

“Ah!”

He touched me on the cheek, and I jerked awake as though I was really sleeping. My concentration was lost; I’d dropped the scalpel in my dreams.

My whole body cringed back, retreating into the leather couch. He grabbed my wrist. I twisted it away.

“Don’t move,” he said, grabbing my wrist again. My pulse began to thump in my ears. I wasn’t concentrating on anything but the fingers wrapped tightly around my arm.

“What are you doing?”

“I won’t hurt you. Don’t move.”

I struggled to pull away, and he stopped moving. As soon as I relaxed, though, he continued to pull me upright.

“You can fight if you want, Sara. But you won’t be able to win. I’m much stronger than you.” A whisper in the dark. A warning from the shadows. I bit my lip and let him move me like a doll.

He slid an arm underneath me and lifted up my body into a sitting position. I couldn’t see anything; it was pitch black. All I could feel was his hand grasping my arm like a vise, the pressure of his upper arm keeping me up.

Then I felt the pressure of his chest against my back. He was bare-chested, and he shifted his weight forward so that I could feel him. His erection was hard against my lower back. A flash of terror went through me as a new thought found itself in my mind.

No. Not this.

A minute ago, I had told myself that I could do this. I could pretend to let him seduce me. If it would give me an advantage. Now that it was happening, though, I realized I had no other choice. I couldn’t fight back; he would slice me open and think nothing of it. All I could do was distance myself. Act as though it was pretend. It was all pretend, wasn’t it?

Then I thought of what he had done to me the first time and tears stung the backs of my eyes.

“Don’t inject me with anything,” I said, closing my eyes as though it would make the darkness go away. In my mind, the syringe was coming at me in the dark. I didn’t know where it would come from. My heart pounded in my ears.“Please. No needles.”

“No needles,” he agreed. His voice was a soft whisper in my ear. For a moment, he sounded so gentle that I forgot to be afraid of him. I was scared, yes, scared of the darkness, but not of him. His hands softened on my arms, caressing my skin. “But don’t fight me.”

“I won’t,” I said. As terrified as I was, his words gave me a measure of relief. No needles. No paralysis.

If it got too bad, I could defend myself.

I didn’t know what he was doing, but then he wrapped an arm around me, over my chest. His chin rested against my neck and he nuzzled my hair out of the way.

“Were you asleep?”

He talked to me like a lover. A crazed maniacal lover who was keeping me hostage in a library, but a lover nonetheless. His voice promised honeyed sweetness with its lilting words.

“Yes,” I lied.

“Were you dreaming?”

“No.”

Rien rocked me slightly back and forth, and in the total darkness my sleepiness began to catch up with me again. My heart slowed down, no longer pumping adrenaline through my body. He brushed my hair away and pressed his lips against my neck. A long, slow thrill seized my nerves.

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