Page 51 of The Castle (Endgame 3)
His hands run over me, more like they’re checking for wounds.
Pain blooms in parts of my body that shouldn’t hurt. My hands. My heart. Even between my legs, the first place I touched that made me a woman. Gabriel may have taken my virginity, but my innocence was stolen long before that. Instead of curious exploration, instead of the patient guidance of a mother, I had a voice in my wall. And I feel the weight of those words on my sex, sharp and hot.
No, fight it.
Sometimes the only thing you can do is survive, so I push down the feelings, the horror. I imagine I’m some other girl, who never knew how little I was loved. I let myself be a doll in Gabriel’s arms, unthinking, without protest. It turns out that’s all I can be.
Without interest I listen to Gabriel speak to Damon on the phone. “It’s done?”
“Yes,” comes a voice that’s painfully familiar. “We sent the code word and got confirmation. Only time will tell if the information was valid.”
“What’s your read?”
“I think he didn’t really want her dead, like he said. But with my father, that means you’re half-buried already.”
Gabriel’s hands tighten around me. “No one’s getting near her.”
“Even me?” Damon asks, his voice wry. “As it turns out, we’re related. Which makes the whole virginity-auction thing a little taboo.”
“It wasn’t taboo already?”
“More than that.” A pause. “Has she said anything? About me?”
“She hasn’t said anything. As in, she’s not talking.”
“Shock?”
“Let’s hope so.”
A grim silence. “That’s what you said Penny did, and she recovered.”
“Is she at the Den?”
“No, I sent her home.”
Gabriel straightens. “Home?”
“Her shitty father almost pissed himself when he saw her. Probably figured she was at the bottom of the lake by now. Forgave the debt and everything.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t keep her.”
“For what? Fucking a scared little virgin isn’t really my kink. More like yours.”
A low laugh. “Fine.”
“Besides, I’m thinking of going underground for a little while. Which means no keeping girls, however pretty and wide-eyed they might be.”
“Pulling a disappearing act? Like your father?”
“Something like that. Take care of her, will you?”
“I will.” Gabriel whispers in my ear, “What do you need, little virgin?”
Of course I don’t answer him. From his sigh I know he doesn’t expect me to. It’s impossible to explain what I need when my heart is locked up tight, impossible to form the words with my body coated in black tar.
Pandora opened her mythological box, releasing the evils of humanity—diseases and plagues. Death. What most people leave out of the story is that there was only one thing left when she closed it again. Hope, trapped inside.
The question has never been how to close the box.
It’s how to open it again.Chapter Twenty-NineI spend the next week in bed. At least I think it’s a week. I’m asleep most of the time, so the mornings blend into night. Only the meals change, as any kind of marker.
A thin oatmeal mixture, more milk than grain.
A fragrant broth that has vitamin powder poured in as liberally as the spices.
And finally some kind of caramel pudding, both salt and sweet.
Every day Gabriel struggles to feed me, to force me, but he could sooner have sex with me than he could make me eat. There’s always a hint of regret when he gives up, the briefest sorrow that I can’t be the woman he wants.
Then the door closes behind him, and numbness drifts over me again.
A tray of food appears on the side table, a bowl of steaming broth. The smell assaults me with bittersweet flavor, the memory of caring for Penny when she had lain in bed, broken, bruised. Now it’s me trapped beneath the sheets, trapped by the very evil I unleashed.
Being a little girl didn’t excuse me. Being afraid. Being in love. All of them explain what I’ve done in my life, a dark symphony always underscored by the heavy beat of womanhood. A burden I never asked for, one I wouldn’t trade even if I could.
It’s not Gabriel this time.
The mattress dips as Mrs. B sits on the edge of the bed. Her hand reaches for me, hovers a moment before pulling back. From the corner of my eye, her expression looks repentant.
Maybe he’s finally given up on me.
“Richard told me that you might have heard what I said before.”
For half a second I wonder if I might be curious about this. Did Mrs. B betray Gabriel? Does she feel bad about it? And then I remember that I don’t care, not about any of it.
“It wasn’t that I hated you. I’m sorry I said that. And I’m very sorry that you heard me in that moment of weakness. Lord knows you’ve been through enough already.”
The doubt must show on my face.
“What your father did. Even Gabriel. As much as I owe him, I have no illusions about the kind of man he is.” Her round cheeks turn pink. “I also threw away the sheets after your first stay.”
