CIARA
Unable to sleep and scared out of my mind, I have no idea what time it is when the urge to relieve my bladder becomes a worry.
I try to hold on as long as possible before I’m forced to call out, “Nolan, I need the bathroom.” When I don’t hear any movement, I clear my throat and call louder, “Nolan! I need the bathroom.”
Nolan lets out a groan, and I hear him mutter something unintelligible before he fiddles with the lid. When he opens the box, I quickly sit up, and grabbing hold of the side, I pull myself into a standing position.
My captor takes hold of my elbow and walks me out of the bedroom and to the bathroom. The chain rattles behind me, a stark reminder that I can’t escape this hell.
Letting go of my arm, he lifts the toilet lid, then says, “Pee.”
My eyebrows fly up. “Aren’t you going to leave?”
Impatience tightens his features, then pulling up my dress, he shoves me down on the toilet, and my butt hits the seat hard. Shocked, I can only stare at him.
“I want to go back to sleep, Ciara! Pee,” he snaps angrily.
Intense humiliation burns through me like hot coals, and realizing I have no other choice, I turn my head away from him and shut my eyes before I relieve my bladder.
When I reach for the toilet paper, he slaps my hand, making me gasp and yank my hand to my chest.
Nolan takes a few squares of toilet paper and folds it neatly before saying, “Open your legs.”
I begin to shake my head, tears escaping. My mind reels from the horrifyingly degrading situation I find myself in.
“No,” I whimper, clamping my knees shut.
He lets out an aggravated sigh, then grabs hold of my arm and yanks me off the toilet. He forces me onto the floor, and shoving his knee into my back, he pushes my legs open and proceeds to wipe me from front to back.
Just as quickly, he gets up, and I hear the toilet flush while my breaths explode over the linoleum floor.
Once again, I’m grabbed by the arm and hauled up until I’m standing. Unable to catch my bearings, I automatically move when I’m pulled back to the bedroom.
I’m shoved forward and fall against the side of the bed. My head turns, and when I see Nolan grabbing the belt from where it was lying on the bedside table, I quickly shake my head and dart forward. I crawl over the rumpled covers, but Nolan grabs hold of the chain and yanks me back toward him.
Pain cuts into my ankle, drawing a cry from me. Just as I push myself up again, the belt cracks over my lower back, the extreme pain forcing me into the covers. The lashes rain down on my thighs, butt, and lower back, ripping cry after cry from me until I push my fist against my mouth to smother the sounds.
Suddenly, the blows stop, and the bed dips as Nolan lies down beside me, so we’re face to face. He brings his hand to my face and brushes my hair back.
Giving me a loving look, he murmurs, “There, there. Shh…”
Weak with pain, I can’t fight as he pulls me against his chest. He holds me as if I’m precious, his hand gently brushing up and down my back.
“It hurts me more than it hurts you.” He presses a kiss to my hair, and it makes me feel very confused.
My emotions are a chaotic mess, and it takes a few minutes before I calm down enough to realize I didn’t go into a panicked trance.
Even though I’m caught in a world of turmoil and horror, I somehow fall asleep out of pure exhaustion.
When I open my eyes again, Nolan’s still holding me, his breaths warming a spot on my head.
I remain dead still, not wanting to wake him, but I’m fresh out of luck because not even a minute later, he moves, pulling his arms away from me.
I watch as he climbs off the bed, noticing he’s wearing a T-shirt and shorts. He grabs a pair of jeans and another shirt from the closet and leaves the bedroom.
Only when I hear the shower turn on in the bathroom do I gingerly begin to move off the bed. My body aches something fierce, and the memories of the harrowing hours since Nolan kidnapped me fill my mind.
My phone!
I try to keep the chain from rattling as I search the entire room for the device, but I don’t find it. I sneak down the hallway to the kitchen and living room, but there’s no sign of my phone, and it has my heart sinking.
Standing in the middle of the living area, a sob shudders through me, and the fear and torture I’ve been subjected to has me feeling like I might lose my mind.
I’m so caught up in my perilous circumstances that I let out a startled shriek when Nolan wraps his arms around me.
“I just want to comfort you, my love,” he coos lovingly, pressing me to his chest. “Yesterday was very unpleasant, but that’s behind us now.”
The hug doesn’t comfort me one bit but instead amps up my anxiety and fear.
Nolan pulls back, then cupping my cheek, he says, “Grace sent you a message last night. You need to reply.”
Just the thought of interacting with Grace has me willing to do anything he asks.
He tilts his head, his mouth curving up in a smile. “You would like to talk to her, right?”
I nod quickly and whisper, “Please.”
Maybe I can use words I wouldn’t normally use to get her attention.
Nolan pulls the cell phone out of his pocket and gestures at the kitchen table. “Take a seat.”
I move quickly, and even though it hurts a lot, I sit down on the hard wooden chair.
“Tell her you’re okay,” Nolan orders before he hands me the phone.
Opening the message, my eyes dart greedily over the words.
Grace: I would’ve gone with you. Please be careful out there and check in regularly. I love you more than anything.
Grace.
Tears blur my vision, but I blink them away so I can see the screen.
Nolan watches as I type out a reply with trembling fingers, then he barks, “Don’t ask her that!”
“She’ll get suspicious if I don’t,” I whimper, desperate to communicate with my sister.
“Fine,” he relents with an annoyed glare directed at me.
Before he changes his mind, I press send and stare at the screen as the message goes through.
Ciara: I’m still okay. How are things at home?
She doesn’t reply immediately, and I worry that Nolan’s going to take the phone from me, but then it shows she’s typing, and I desperately read her text as it comes through.
Grace: I have everything under control. You can come home.
There’s nothing I want more than to go home to Grace.
My eyes fly to Nolan’s face, and he mutters, “Tell her you’re not ready.”
Ciara: I’m not ready to come home.
Grace: Just be careful and look after yourself. Let me know if you need anything.
I need you! God, I need you so much.
Ciara: I will. Did you get in trouble because I left?
Grace: No. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.
“That’s enough.” Nolan grabs the phone from me, and I can’t stop a sob from fluttering over my lips as I try to reach for the device.
“Just one minute more,” I beg.
Nolan shoves the phone into his pocket, and leaning over me, he grips my chin and growls, “Don’t make me regret letting you talk to Grace. I’ll destroy the phone.”
Not wanting him to do that, I clench my hands together on my lap.
He leans even closer. “Thank me, Ciara.”
My eyebrows draw together. “H-how?”
He tilts his head slightly while lowering his eyes to my mouth. “Kiss me.”
My chin quivers, but not wanting to miss any future chances I might have of talking to Grace, I close the inch between us and press a quick kiss to his lips.
A satisfied smile forms on his face, and he moves his hand to my cheek. “See, it’s not that hard. You’ll learn quickly.” Straightening up, he says, “Your breath stinks. Let’s brush your teeth and get you cleaned up.”
Cleaned up.
No.
My muscles lock in place, and Nolan has to yank me to my feet. The loving demeanor vanishes, and anger ripples over his features.
“Do I have to spank you again?”
I quickly shake my head, and when he pulls me toward the bathroom, it feels like a noose is being tightened around my neck.
My breaths keep coming faster and faster until they’re nothing but fear-filled puffs.
Nolan brings me to a halt in front of the sink, and letting go of me, he grabs a pink toothbrush and squirts toothpaste onto the bristles.
“Open your mouth wide,” he orders. A sob threatens to escape my throat as I do as I’m told, and I pinch my eyes shut. Nolan takes his time brushing my teeth, and when he’s pleased, he says, “Spit.” Once I’m done, he cups his hand beneath the cold water spray. “Rinse your mouth.”
Feeling utterly degraded, I’m beginning to realize Nolan is going to take every single thing from me, and I’m filled with an overwhelming sense of hopelessness.
He leaves me standing by the sink, and after he walks out of the bathroom, I wrap my arms around myself and suck in a desperate breath of air.
I’m still unable to process the hell I’m being subjected to. There’s no time to make sense of what’s happening, because before I can deal with whatever horrible act Nolan inflicts on me, something else happens. The weight of it all is bearing down on me.
Nolan returns with a yellow dress, and he places it on the closed toilet lid before moving past me to get to the bath. Dread spins in my stomach while I watch him fill the tub with water.
Once he’s satisfied with the temperature, he comes to me and takes hold of the dress, pulling it up my body. Where the fabric brushes over my butt and lower back, it burns, reminding me of the beating I got last night.
Unable to stop it, a sob escapes as I lift my arms so he can pull it over my head.
“Get in the tub,” he says, his tone gentle.
My movements are jerky as I do as I’m told, and when I sit down in the water, the skin on my lower back, butt, and the back of my thighs burn.
Nolan reaches for the body wash, and when he squirts some into his palm, I close my eyes, trying to brace myself for what’s to come.
He begins to wash my shoulders, then moves down my chest. Torturously slow, he fondles my breasts, and unable to take anymore, my mind finally spirals into a panicked trance.
