Page 27 of The Bounty

CHAPTER 9

OLIVE

The warm wateris heaven against my bruised skin. I stay under the stream as long as possible, scrubbing every inch of my body until it’s pink.

After rinsing off weeks’ worth of dirt, grime, and blood, I step out of the marble shower and assess my body in the bathroom mirror.

I lookawful.

Blue and yellow bruises pepper every inch of my skin. My eyes are dull and bloodshot, accompanied by dark circles.

My hair, once thick and full, falls out in my hands when I comb my fingers through it. My collarbones stick out unnaturally, and my ribs are visible when I raise my arms.

I’m malnourished as hell.

Turns out, only eating granola bars for more than a month will do that to you.

Thankfully, the bathroom is fully stocked with everything I could need. I find a new toothbrush and toothpaste inside a drawer and use them, finally feeling refreshed and renewed.

I’m going to miss this place with I inevitably leave it.

I wrap myself in a fluffy white towel and pad over to the bed, collapsing.

THUMP.

I hear shouting from somewhere in the house, but I choose to ignore it.

They’re probably fighting about you.

As of now, I don’t have the strength in me to care. The memory foam mattress hugs my body as I climb under the softest sheets I’ve ever felt.

There’s an exhaustion so deep that my limbs feel as though they’re made of lead, and I’m awake for only half a minute before I succumb to sleep.

* * *

“Dad?”I whisper into the phone, curled up in the bathroom stall.

“Olive? Were you able to make it out?” There’s hope in his voice as I squint my eyes shut in pain, refusing to cry on the phone with him.

“No, I wasn’t. Not yet, at least.”

“Pumpkin, I’m watching the news, and they’re saying you have to go—”

“I’m not going, Dad. Don’t worry.”

The words are acid on my tongue. I don’t even believe my own lies.

“It might be easier if you go. That way, we can visit you.” His voice cracks in pain, just as voices shout from outside the bathroom.

“I have to go. I love you.” I whisper.

That was the last time I heard from him.

* * *

“Olive?”

A gentle voice wakes me from my sleep, and I sit up quickly, gasping. For a moment, I don’t recognize my surroundings, or the body wash scent that lingers on my skin.