Why are you putting me through this?
Why are you hurting me? Wasn’t kidnapping me, taking me away from my home and my family, enough?
You have to stop. I can’t bear another fucking moment.
When I ran out of energy, when I had no more breath left in my lungs, I tossed her into the far corner of the basement.
She fell onto her side, facing me.
Dark, beady eyes, just like his, gazed in my direction, haunting me.
Reminding me of the abuse.
Torture that I knew was going to happen again.
Because I was now his doll, locked in his fucking dollhouse.
Available to play with whenever he had the urge.
To rub his greasy, gnarly bald head all over my chest. To make me clean his filthy glasses with my tongue.
All just foreplay.
A buildup to when he lifted the bottom of my frilly dress.
To when things became unbearable.
Dear God, help me.
The tears were back.
Stinging.
Burning my skin as they dripped.
A knot clogged my throat.
A tightness gnawed my chest.
Both strangling me to the point where I couldn’t take a breath.
I couldn’t suck in any air.
I couldn’t stop my heart from pounding.
I couldn’t stop the shaking that was taking over my body.
I didn’t know what was happening to me, why I wasn’t able to breathe, why these tremors were rattling me like I’d been thrown in the washing machine.
But it all kept getting worse.
I clasped my hands around my neck, begging for whatever this was to let go. But it felt like someone had placed a plastic bag over my head. There was nothing to inhale, nothing to see.
Just hopelessness.
Thoughts of his face, his hands, those horrible fucking eyes were filling my head.
I slapped the bed, mentally trying to fight them away, and a wave of nausea moved through me.
I couldn’t make it to the bucket.
I couldn’t even get onto my knees.
My mouth opened, and bile shot out of my lips, hitting the ground beside the bed.
With each heave, I hoped to purge him out of me, to rid myself of the memories etched into my brain.
To forget the way he had made me bleed.
And to only remember the happier times—the love from my family, the hug of my mother’s arms.
When there was nothing left to vomit, I glanced up and saw the doll’s eyes.
They hurt.
Everything hurt.
I wiped my mouth with my arm and pushed myself onto my knees.
Air slowly started to come back in, and my hands fell onto the cold, rough floor.
I crawled.
A nail snapped and broke along the way. The skin on my knees split open, the tiny grains from the cement filling the cuts.
But I didn’t stop until I reached the doll, hauling her against my chest.
Her soft yarn hair tickled my chin as my arms circled her back, and I buried my face in her neck.
I didn’t mean to hurt you.
It won’t happen again.
I’m so fucking sorry.
Please forgive me.
Please …
I wanted her to hug me back, to wrap her cotton-filled arms around me and squeeze.
To tell me everything was going to be all right.
To cradle the back of my head and rub my hair, like I was doing to her now and how my mom had done to me when I was younger.
But there was none of that, just her presence and the feel of her against me.
I would take it.
Because having her here—even if she was his—meant I wouldn’t have to endure this alone.
Thirty-One
Before
Ashe
“Three,” everyone screamed from inside the bar, holding their glasses high in the air. “Two,” they continued the countdown. “One,” they finished before shouting, “Happy New Year!”
I lowered my beer, and instead of taking a drink, I squeezed Pearl’s waist and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around my neck, her lips parting to let in my tongue. I pulled her against my chest and set down the bottle, so I could lift her into my arms.
When I’d found out she had to work New Year’s Eve, there wasn’t a question as to where the guys and I were going to hang out this evening. She had reserved a table for the four of us in her section, and after last call, she would be coming back to my place to spend the night.
And tomorrow morning, while we cuddled in my bed, I was going to ask her if I could meet Gran.
Almost four months had passed since she had run into me in the hallway. She didn’t need to hide anything from me anymore. She could trust me. Nothing would change the way I felt about my girl, and I wasn’t going anywhere.
I would keep saying those words until she believed them.
Until they lived in her heart.
Where she lived in mine.
I brushed my lips across her mouth and whispered, “Happy New Year, Pearl.”
Her legs squeezed my waist, her arms balancing on my shoulders. “Happy New Year.”
I stared into her eyes, still in awe that she was mine. “God, I’m so fucking crazy for you.”
“Mmm,” she moaned, a smile covering her gorgeous face as she pulled her lips away. “My year starts with you.” Her grin grew even wider. “That couldn’t make me happier.”
I gripped her ass, feeling how perfect it was. “I’m never letting you go.”
“You’d better not.”
“This year is going to be all about fun.” I rubbed my nose over hers. “Are you ready for that?”
“Yes.” She tightened her hold on me, hugging me with all her strength. “The only time I’ve ever been able to close my eyes and feel safe is when I’ve been with Gran.” Her legs locked, feet resting against my lower back, as she cupped my neck with her palm. “And now, Ashe, I feel that with you.”
I rubbed my thumb over her chin, staring into her eyes, accepting the best gift she could have ever given me.
Thirty-Two
Before
Pearl
As I cuddled into Ashe’s chest, the smell of New Year’s was still on his skin. Remnants of the beer I’d served him and the smoke from the bar. A holiday I’d always dreaded working even though the money was amazing because it was so crowded that I could barely get around and everyone was incredibly sloppy and only getting drunker as the evening went on.
Yesterday had been different.
Ashe was the silver lining.
The sweetest, gentlest man coming in with his friends, just so he could spend the whole night with me. When the bar began the countdown, he’d searched the crowd until he found me, joining our lips as the clock hit midnight.
I couldn’t have asked for a better shift.
Or a better way to start the year.
And as I stared up at his face, I truly didn’t know how I’d gotten so lucky.
I was just grateful I had taken off my shoes and stopped running, or I would have missed something extremely beautiful.
He stirred as I brushed my fingers over his scruff, his eyes slowly coming awake.
“Mmm,” he groaned so softly. “Morning.” He rubbed his hand over my naked back, massaging between my shoulder blades. “How did you sleep?”