Page 89 of Fighting With Light

I step into the tub with my clothes on and sink into the warm water.

“I guess that works, though it would have made more sense to get rid of your clothes,” she says, giggling.

“No time, too excited,” I mutter, bending my knees to fit down into the tub.

Aelia giggles, shaking her head, and we sit in the sudsy water grinning like idiots—I love it. She leans back and closes her eyes again.

“Why do you hate him so much?” I ask her.

She opens her eyes again. “I hate him for a lot of reasons. And I think it’s important to note that I don’thateanyone, it’s a strong word. But my father is and always will be the exception.”

“Why?” I ask again.

She sighs and moves her foot under my wet shirt to my abs. She wiggles her toes on my skin, and I grab her calf, massaging the muscle.

“I was kidnapped when I was thirteen years old.”

My hands pause on her leg and she stares at me as she says, “It was a rival family. I wasn’t sure what they wanted. Being thirteen, I knew what my father did. I had already seen things that no kid should see, but I didn’t know why they were using me to get to my father.”

“What did he do?” I ask.

She huffs a laugh. “He offered them money.” She huffs again and looks away.

“They had me tied up in a basement with some other women I didn’t recognize. They had been there for a while because they were so beat up, others…well…”

I nod, knowing what she’s getting at.

“I was scared out of my mind. I just wanted to go home and hug my mom. Dad had money, territory, drugs, so I knew he could pay the ransom. What I didn’t realize at the time is that they didn’t want any of that.”

“You were thirteen, Aelia.”

She tilts her head and gives me a dead eye look. “And what were you doing at the age of thirteen?”

I look away. “We were running from my father…learning how to defend ourselves.”

“Exactly. Our childhood didn’t get the pleasure of being normal.”

I huff. “No, it didn’t.”

“They got me between where I got dropped off for school and the school entrance. I didn’t like that. The maid, Kira, dropped me off, so she always stopped around the corner so I could walk the rest of the way.”

“I’m sorry, princess.” I rub my hands up and down her legs in comfort, and she shrugs, avoiding my eyes.

“After I was down there for a while, I realized two things: he wasn’t willing to give them what they wanted in exchange for me, and I was on my own.” She swallows.

“I knew that if I didn’t want to be one of those girls beaten, bloody, raped, and handcuffed to a pipe in a disgusting basement, I had to do something.”

I take a deep breath, willing the anger and profound sadness not to pull me under like a riptide. This explains a lot about her. She’s tough, but doesn’t appear so. It would seem that people have been underestimating Aelia for a long time.

“When they came back downstairs, I started asking questions. I figured if I knew what they wanted, I could convince them to call one of my brothers because it was clear Dad wasn’t going to cooperate, so I told them to call Romeo.”

“Did they?”

She sighs and sinks lower into the water. “No, they didn’t because I know he would have come right away. Even then, my brothers were a lot of things, but they were not my father, no matter how hard he tried. I was in that basement for two weeks.”

My heart leaps up my throat and I want to punch a hole through the wall because I can feel the pain coming off of her. I want to rage for the girl who was broken by others over and over again. Yet she has a heart of gold. She hasn’t allowed her past to jade her. I don’t think I can say the same for myself, but being with her may be changing that for me.

“Day after day, the women I was in the basement with disappeared. I heard things that…I thought I was going to die there, to be honest, or worse. I was hungry and cold, and when the last girl was dragged up the stairs, I decided tofight back. Speaking up did nothing. I could never figure out if they called my family, or if my father just…let me go. But, I put it together that I was more useful to them alive than dead, so they probably wouldn’t shoot me. I also decided I’d rather die trying than be there another day,” she says, meeting my eyes. I don’t know if she wants to be closer right now, but I need her closer. Grabbing the back of her knees, I pull her into my lap and hug her into my wet shirt.