Page 6

Ivy

Holy shit.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I just watched a man's execution.

I didn't want to think about what had just happened, it was too hard to process. But it was real. Tony was right there, breathing, talking . . . Then he wasn't.

Yes, he was just about to violate me in the worst way possible, and take the last bit of myself I had left; but I still felt sorry for him, sorry for how his life had been cut.

I shouldn't, I shouldn't care about that man.

But that didn't mean I wanted him dead.

Or did I?

I didn't try to help him. I didn't try to speak up and stop the shadowed man.

No. I let him do it and did nothing.

Could I have that much evil and hatred inside me?

Or was I just a product of the life I had been given?

My eyes were closed. I shut them tight out of habit. It had saved me so many times before, and all I could hope for was that it would save me now.

If I didn't see his face then maybe he'd let me go. I couldn't identify a man I didn't know.

Right?

But that voice . . .

There was no way in hell that voice would ever escape my memory. Those words would play forever in my head, and I knew the sound of his voice was something that would always be crystal clear in my ears.

I was grateful for him stopping the brutal act about to be forced on my body, but now there was a feeling of owing him my life.

He had saved me, and yet I was still at his mercy.

Coddling my knees, I counted inside my head.One, two, three . . .

It was first thing my mind went to. When I was a little girl I used to get panic attacks, and I hated them. It always felt like I was dying. The air would get thin, my chest would feel heavy like there was a boulder that had just dropped onto my ribs. It was horrible and no matter how hard I tried I couldn't always control them.

My father used to sit me down when it would happen, he'd hold my arms, and speak slow and soft. He'd tell me to close my eyes and count, then he'd make these loud exaggerated breathing noises for me to try and follow.

For a long time I thought it was silly, and as I fought for air I would curse him under my breath.

But it worked. I had to give him that, if nothing else.

It was a panic attack that swept me into the hands of a monster, leaving me with little answers and no resolve. I had to try and fit the whole scenario together myself, there was no way in hell I'd allow Remo's answers to be the solid truth.

I wasn't letting that happen again. I wasn't going to let my body rule my conscience. I was already vulnerable and trapped, a black out wouldn't give me what I needed.

I felt my chest start to squeeze, my throat closing slowly as the air became tarnished and hard to take in.

No. Not now, not right now!

Between the numbers floating inside my head, I could hear the two men in the room, hear the sound of Tony's body being dragged away. The scratching of his clothes against the ground screeched like nails on a chalk board. Feet thumped around me, pounding the ground like an earthquake.