Page 5

It’s been several days since our arrival. The first night’s nightmare and lack of sleep clouded my head, and by the time Larc came to get us, I got into the same submissive position that I’ve taken up for years. Ben expected it, so it became natural. To make matters worse, I offered him sexual favors when he suggested we get acquainted. It’s ingrained in me. I’ve been wired to do nothing but satisfy men. Humiliation choked me into silence, which I haven’t felt in years. If I hadn’t locked away my soul, I’d probably cry at the thought. At thirty-five years old, I’m useless and a waste of living space.

Louisa, Tara, and Mandy have joined the ranks of gardening and sewing, yet I don’t fit into any area. It’s like I’m a lost piece to a puzzle. All I’ve done is wander the grounds, with a slight sense of interest. And while I walk to different areas in this community, I have a sixth sense someone is following me, lurking behind a building or tree. Once, I turned to find Larc standing on top of the hill, arms crossed, watching me.

Larc.

I experience a tug when I’m in his presence, as if we’re tethered together. An invisible string, propelling me closer to him. The craziness of it all is that for the first time in my life, I don’t shy away from a man. There’s no prick of fear. Only warmth and a trace of craving to be near him. He’s a blanket on a cold winter’s night. A fire warming my skin while defrosting my heart. So far, not him nor anyone else here has been a threat to me. For the most part they leave me be, except for Larc. When food is ready, he sits next to me, eyeing my plate, and attempts to trick me into eating by coming up with games. If I don’t answer a trivia question correctly, I’m supposed to take a mouthful. But I refuse his games, instead picking at the food, and taking in just enough to curb my hunger. Since sex is the only thing I know, it’s important I remain thin or otherwise I won’t be good for anything. I’ll turn into the trash they’ll toss out.

At night, the years of abuse splinter my dreams. Nightmares have been uninvited guests for a long time, and it’s the reason Ben had me sleep on a mattress on the floor. When I’d have a fit during the night, he’d throw his slipper at me, yelling for me to shut up. My kidnapping and the rapes only exacerbated the nightmares.

All of my hardships play out at night, and in the daytime, I wreak of decay. A volcanic explosion detonated years ago, burning my insides to ash. I’m embroidered in misery.

Earlier in the day, I took a steak knife from the kitchen because it’s time. Time to end it all. Since my first breath in this world, I’ve known nothing better than despair and heartache from those I loved. I’m paralyzed by my horrific past, which sticks to me like glue, leaving nothing of value for my present and future.

I fall asleep, waiting for the others to go to bed, and wake in a sweat. A few groggy women groan because my nightmare woke them again. Once I get my breathing under control, I slip from the bed, retrieve the knife from the dresser, and head outside. It’s cold out. I didn’t bother putting on shoes or a sweater, because there’s no point. Maybe the cold will ease me into a forever sleep after I bleed out from the knife.

Thinking about my impending death has me walking toward the forest in a daze. My bare feet are poked by sticks and pebbles, yet I ignore the pain. I’m good at ignoring pain. The dense woods are farther than they appear. The knife dangles at my side in my hand as I approach the forest and stop. If it wasn’t for the moon and stars, it would be pitch black out. For one last time, I turn back to the bunkhouse, shift my attention to Larc’s house in the far distance, and circle back to the woods.

From my left, I hear twigs snapping, and what sounds like several feet approaching. I’m standing in a t-shirt, underwear, and no shoes on, gripping the knife in my hand. Even though I plan to end my life, I want to go out on my terms, not by a group of savage men. The sounds are closer. Feet approach…except they’re not feet. Four wolves appear on the outskirts of the woods, shaking off the evening dust and sniffing the air. They’re beautiful. Thick coats of white, tan, black, and gray. And then…

I step back.

One of them…

Wait! What?

Another step back.

Two of them...

My hand covers my mouth, the knife handle pressing against it.

Four naked humans that were once wolves slip on clothes. I’m paralyzed by what I just witnessed. Wolves turning into humans. Does it mean…does it mean they’re werewolves? Is this why we can’t leave? I snort at the absurdity and then grow still.

As one pulls a t-shirt on, his head inclines when he hears the snort, eyes locked on me. I’m walking backwards. Gasping for air, I turn and run. My arms are pumping hard, aiming for the gate. I look over my shoulder to find them coming after me. I scream. They’re shouting at me, but I can’t hear what they’re saying. Blood pounds in my ears. My frantic breathing causes fog to billow in front of me. I shout for them to stay away, except they keep on their pursuit.

My heart is about to beat out of my chest. When I reach the gate, I slam into the metal bars, tugging on them and shouting at the guards to open them. They look over my shoulder and shake their heads.

One of the guards says.

“We can’t open—”

I ignore him, sprinting to my right along the large stone wall, looking for something to climb. My feet burn from cutting them on debris. A thick vine weaves up to the top. I grab hold of it, trying to lift myself, except I lack the strength. Falling to the ground, I twist my ankle as the four of them form a semi-circle around me.

One of the guys says.

“Calm down, Ivy.”

Using the wall to get to my feet, I slash the air in front of me with the knife.

“Get away!”

His hands raise in surrender.

“We just want to talk.”

I’m hysterical, slicing the air and screaming.

“No! Stay away!”

They’re going to tear me to pieces. Eat me alive.

I think the guy talking is Kyle.

“Ivy, we only want to talk. I promise you no one will hurt you.”

My entire body convulses from sobs while I shake my head.

“Don’t kill me. I won’t say anything.”

I run out of air, sucking in big gulps before continuing. “Promise.”

From my left, I hear someone jogging toward us. Larc comes into view. He glances at them and they retreat, like they understood what he wanted from just a look. My body presses against the wall, the vine stabbing at my back. He’s about five feet away. Again, he peeks over to the side, and Kyle returns with a blanket as if he willed him to do it, then Kyle leaves.

No. None of this is real. I’m having a nightmare.

My frantic breathing is making me dizzy. I start to fall and catch myself as my ankle twists again. I gasp, squeezing my eyes closed for a second from the searing pain. After lying dormant for years, my senses are on full alert. Larc takes a step closer, reaching the blanket toward me. In an instant, I lash out to stop him from coming closer and I cut his forearm. When I see the blood, it only causes me to tremble from the mixture of fear and guilt. I didn’t mean to hurt him. Not Larc. But he’s one of them, isn’t he?

Larc squats to eye-level and says.

“No one’s going to hurt you, Ivy.”

I’m petrified to where it clouds my judgment, lunging the knife forward, and slipping on the wet grass onto my butt. Tears blur my vision. My extended trembling hand is holding the knife toward Larc’s motionless body.

“I know you’re scared, Ivy. You have every right to be. But I promise you no harm will come to you.”

My eyes shift from his bloody forearm to his eyes.

“I didn’t mean to cut you.”

Shudders rock my body, so I tuck my legs against my chest, aiming the blade at Larc again. His face softens as he watches how frightened I am, and this alone has me slightly lowering the knife.

“Ivy. You have every right to protect yourself. It’s understandable.”

I swipe my forearm across my nose to wipe away the accumulated mucus, and in a brittle voice, ask.

“What are you people?”

Larc bites down on his lower lip, releases a breath through his nostrils, and responds.

“Werewolves.”

My breath hooks in my throat as my eyes widen at his admission.

“Werewolves aren’t real.”

He doesn’t respond to my comment.

“It’s freezing out, Ivy, and you’re shivering. Can I please put the blanket over your shoulders?”

I’m staring at him, not knowing whether I should let him.

Or it—for he’s a werewolf; a mythical creature.

And he’s Larc. The one who saved us from tragedy.

Why save us if he only plans on hurting us?

To be fair, he hasn’t done anything bad to any of us. He and everyone else has been kind and considerate. We have shelter, food, and clothing. I shake my head to relinquish my cluttered mind.

For once, Ivy, go with your gut feeling.

I nod, allowing him to give me the blanket. Still squatting, he takes froggy steps toward me. He tosses the blanket over my shoulder, but only takes a small step back.

“I’d like to talk to you about what you witnessed.”

My eyes haven’t wandered from his.

“But it’s cold out, so I’d rather bring you to my home.”

I let his words sink in. Larc scrambles my brain. There’s something that draws me to him. A beast. A sob escapes after the last thought. My God, how did I go from one nightmare to another? A tradeoff from sadists to animals. Except the Larc I’ve recently met hasn’t shown an ounce of being a terrifying creature. He’s sweet, and when those ice blue eyes find mine, a fusion occurs inside me.

When I don’t respond, Larc adds.

“If it makes you feel safe, you can keep the knife, Ivy.”

I choke on a sob. His gentleness is killing me. It’s muddling my thoughts of being careful of him. Stay alert.

“Please, Ivy. Let me take you to my home, tend to your feet, put some warm clothes on you, and make you a hot chocolate. We can talk and you can ask me anything you want.”

Larc remains calm, without using force. He cares for those he saves.

Do I give him a chance?

Ivy, follow your gut.

Before I can think more about it, I whisper, “Okay.”