I stilled with his reply. He was right. But I hadn’t seen it that way. I hadn’t remotely felt the violence, only the pleasure that came from his hard taking.
I nodded vaguely, the restriction in my chest with the truth making me wince. “So, tell me if I’m wrong, but the way I see it, you took something that hurt you and turned it into something that pleasures you?”
He drew a deep breath. “Is anything ever that simple? Yes, Hank fucked me as hard as Robbie fucks me. Both him and Mary tore up my skin as much as Robbie does. However, acceptance is a powerful thing. In retrospect, I think that by accepting the same from someone else, but on my terms, I have refused to let them rule the rest of my life. I took the thing they hurt me with and created something good with it.”
I paused, reflecting on his answer. “Have you ever had soft, slow sex? Do you even have experience with loving sex to doubt your statement?”
I give him his due, he contemplated my argument instead of just brushing it off, and his frank answer surprised me. “No.”
My mouth dried and I sighed. “When we first… kissed, in Seven Oaks, you told me you were a virgin. Wasn’t your first time even…” I couldn’t think how to phrase the query so I just blurted out, “Vanilla?”
“Vanilla?” His soft chuckle made me smile and I laughed with him.
“I’ve never been good at expressing what I need to say.”
“It’s fine.” He laughed softly, the entrancing sound making something shift inside my chest. “I know what you’re getting at. My virginity wasn’t that much of a deal to me. I went out, hired a hooker and fucked her. That was it.”
Sadness filled me. Life had been hard for Anderson and yet he took what it threw at him and tried to turn it into something that worked for him. The fighting, the brutal fucking he took and gave, the basement he had made just to make himself feel at home. I wanted so much to take his hand and show him that the world did have some stunning corners, that the light did shine in many areas of life if only you allowed it.
Silence took over for a while as we both reflected on what he had just divulged.
When Anderson leaned forward again I turned my face his way. “And what about your scars, Kloe? Do they still ache?”
I didn’t like that the spotlight had shifted to me but repaying his candour, I nodded. “Yes. They do.”
“But why? It’s over. You’re not that little girl anymore.”
“It doesn’t mean that my soul has healed. My heart still beats the same as it did when I was seven. My nightmares are still the same ones that have plagued me for twenty years.”
He nodded. “Did he rape you?” His question was so blunt that I physically winced.
He patiently waited for me to answer, remaining relaxed but still and giving me comfort. The difference in him since he had first taken me was astounding, but I was becoming used to his split personality.
Remembering what he had said about being honest and him letting me go, I swallowed the nausea that twisted in my stomach and cleared my throat. “No, he didn’t.”
I heard his quiet exhalation.
“But… before he killed my mother he raped her many times and I was made to watch.”
“At such a young age? I’m surprised you knew what was happening.”
“Oh, I knew.”
“And I gather he starved you?”
“Yes, for over two years he held me and my mother in the attic of our house. My mother had to… do things to earn us food.”
The severe pull of air through his clenched teeth whistled and I closed my eyes. “That’s why you make lists. You need to know that there is food available.”
I nodded, the words dying in my throat before they made it out.
He suddenly stood up, making me jump, and turned away from me, walking in the darkness across the room. “Tell me about your mother.”
Sorrow and happiness filled my heart and I smiled. “She was so very beautiful. Flame red hair that curved past her waist. She had the longest eyelashes ever and they would sweep over her cheekbones when she blinked. Her laugh made me feel warm and fuzzy inside, her smile so devastatingly beautiful that it brought tears to my eyes. I remember how cuddly she was. Her hugs would take away the pain.” Grief ached my throat and I looked down. “Every morning and every night without fail she would say, ‘I love you, honey cup.”
“Honey cup?”
Tears stung my cheeks, the pain in my heart making my soul sob alongside. “We would make these little biscuits, before she married Brian. They were buttery and crumbly but in the middle was a little dip and Mum would always fill it with honey. Hence, honey cup.”
I quietened for a time but then, stupidly, I asked, “Do you remember your parents?”
Tension poured from him, suffocating me in its potency. It swallowed the air in the room, so caustic that it ate at my breath like acid and I shrank back into the bed when he sharply spun around.
“Get some sleep,” he barked before he took off up the stairs at a velocity that left me swaying.
Closing my eyes, I groaned to myself and curled back into the soft mattress. Why couldn’t I ever stop pushing? Why did I always go too far and ruin things?
I knew solitude would be my punishment yet again, the loneliness that came with it making my head fill with horrors and terrors of my past. I had never allowed myself to think of my mother, it always hurt too much. Yet talking about her with Anderson brought furious dreams and horrifying nightmares to plague me in the next three days.
And on the fourth day, the craziness swept in and took me under.
“OPEN THE DOOR, YOU SON of a bitch!”
My palms were so sore, the rough wood from the door making my skin split, and the strength with which I had been banging for nearly an hour bruising the tender flesh up the side.
“Open – the – fucking – door! I need food. I’m starving here!”
Although, as before, I had woken each day to limited but sufficient supplies, my mind was torturing me. What if something had happened to Anderson and I was trapped down here? No one knew where I was! I could starve to death!
“Anderson!”
Shocked when I heard the bolts disengaging, I froze and stepped back a little. It swung open to Anderson’s steely gaze, his furious green eyes simmering with rage.
“Finished?” he hissed.
The anger pouring from him scared me, but not as much as the storm that controlled my mind. “I need food, you arsehole! You can’t keep me here! I need…”
I gasped when his fist grabbed a section of my hair and he yanked me through the basement doorway and into the main area of the house. My fingers instinctively curled around his as I tried to ease his unyielding hold. My legs couldn’t keep up with him as he dragged me up some stairs, my feet only just sweeping the floor with his brisk strides.
“Anderson!” I yelled, wincing when his grip on my hair tightened and my skull cried out in pain. “Stop!”
But he didn’t stop. Not until he hauled me into a bathroom where he flung me against the wall. I couldn’t catch my breath when he bunched my vest in both hands and tore it from me. My sweatpants went next, and then my knickers until I was naked, cold and scared, my body trembling in fright as I tried to curl into the wall.