Carter doesn’t respond to a thing I say, or to the next step I take into the bathroom, letting my fingers trail along the pale paisley pattern on the silver wallpaper. My gaze flows through the room easily but stops when I see the tub.
I can’t take my eyes away from the steam that billows around the edge of the clawfoot tub.
Leaning over the spotless porcelain, Carter’s back is to me with his muscular shoulders pulling his shirt tight, and I imagine how I could push him and run. I could shove him with every ounce of strength I have and run out of the room. I doubt I’d get far though, and I don’t know where I’d go.
Now I know his brothers stay here. They’re here somewhere.
No, I’m sure I wouldn’t get far.
“I want to feed you before I bathe you.” Carter’s statement cuts through the visions of me running until he adds, “Strip down and get into the tub while I get your dinner.”
The dead hope is resurrected; he’s leaving me. The thought makes me more anxious than anything.
As he leaves, Carter grips the door and adds, “I won’t be long.”
Left with only the heat and comfort of the running water, my heart beats once, then twice.
My eyes close and I whisper, “Don’t be stupid.” The aching inside, the desperate need to run, it’s all outweighed by the knowledge of what would come if I disobeyed.
Would I really deny myself a reckless chance of freedom for a warm bath? For food and his touch? Have I been so deprived that such small comforts would rate so highly?
My nails dig into my palms as I war with myself, and when my eyes open, all I see is myself in the mirror. My hair is tangled, although I’ve run my fingers through it daily. It’s oily and dirty, which is to be expected.
My face is thin. Much thinner than I remember. Lifting the thin cotton shirt above my head, I inspect my body, running my fingers over my sides and down to my waist. The cell is so dim; I didn’t see the bruises from when I was taken. The cuts around my wrists have left thin white scars, and the bruise on my ribs is an ugly shade of dark brown that’s faded to nearly nothing.
I hadn’t felt defeat until I was led from my cell, giving up the possibility to run only to see how damaged I’ve become.
The sound of the water striking against the surface harder brings my attention to the tub.
It’s nearly full. The steaming hot water and relaxing fragrance of lavender bath oils Carter poured in it, beg me to cave. To let go and stop fighting. To be good and do as I’m told. If only so I can rid myself of the sense of failure and remember who I am again.
And I still remember those words he spoke days ago. He made a deal and I’m to help him. There is more to this than I know. “Be smart,” I whisper to myself. I’m playing a game without knowing the rules. Without knowing the next phase. The little bit of hope and wonder push me forward toward temptation.
Turning the iron faucet, I realize it’s the first thing I’ve touched in weeks beyond the few items in the cell. Something as simple as turning a knob feels both foreign and nostalgic. I never want to go back to the cell. My chest feels hollow as I think, never, but I know that the choice isn’t mine.
It is, a small voice murmurs in the back of my head. The voice that takes advantage of my pain and promises so much hope in whispers of deceit.
Jasmine and lavender fill my lungs as I inhale the calming scents and quickly remove my shirt and shove my cotton pants down my legs. Although the clothes are new, they’re still dirty. Everything in that cell is dirty.
The fabric clings to my toes and I have to kick it off and toward the puddle of clothes. Just as I do, I hear the heavy footsteps of Carter coming back.
Fear keeps me from moving for only a moment, but then I quickly place a foot into the steaming water, hissing at the onslaught of heat and causing the water to splash around the tub. Water hits the floor as I move to step with my other foot into the hot bath, the heat becoming more and more welcoming as my body adjusts to it. With my back to the door, I hear Carter enter, but I ignore him, lowering myself into the tub filled with a warmth I so desperately needed. And hide myself from him.
“How does it feel?” Carter’s voice carries through the room with a powerful resonance.
Like heaven, I think as I turn slowly, careful not to splash the water, but also careful to stay under and somewhat hidden beyond the white bubbles on the surface.