Hush

It sickened her.

And excited her.

Then she was sickened with the small part of herself that found it attractive. Men who liked control were men who liked handcuffs and pain and suffering.

Orion sank her teeth into her lip. “I think I’ll manage the short walk without you accompanying me, since, you know, I managed ten years without your protection . . . or any other cop’s, for that matter.”

It was cruel and mean to say it, but she didn’t care. She needed to mark this night. Stain it. It couldn’t end nicely. That was too dangerous for her. Too enticing.

“I know,” Maddox said, voice tight. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not walking you to your door. Even if it’s a few steps back. Even if you slam that door in my face. I just want to make sure you’re safe. That you’re always safe.”

She scoffed, hated the strength in his tone, but also the surrender. He wasn’t going to fight her. Wasn’t going to call her out for her cruelty. So, she needed to push further.

“I blame you,” she whispered, the words not needing to be shouted to make their point. “You didn’t keep me safe back then, you didn’t keep me safe the ten years I spent in that hell. How the fuck are you going to keep me safe now?”

Maddox opened his mouth to speak, pain in his eyes, but she silenced him.

“I blame you for kissing me. Making me ride home late. Not riding home with me. I blame you for not finding me, and fighting for me, and making sure that fat piece of shit got the justice he deserved. I blame you for a hundred things. For existing in the first place. Because if you didn’t exist, I wouldn’t have been biking home that day.” She sucked in a sharp breath. “Even though none of this is your fault. Even though the blame lies solely on the shoulders of the monsters who took me, locked me up, beat me, and raped me, I can’t help but still blame you. I can’t help but look at you and see them. I hate you a little bit, Maddox. And that’s hurtful, and it’s ugly. But ugliness is all I know now.” She paused. “Ugliness is all I am. And it’s all I’ll ever be.”

She should’ve gotten out of the car right then. Should’ve made that the note she left on. But she didn’t.

“I don’t need you to be pretty, Orion,” he said softly. “I just need you to be you. To hurt, and cry, and ask God, and me, and the whole fucking world, ‘Why? Why weren’t you there? Why didn’t you find me? Why does this keep happening to little girls?’ I want to hear it all, and take it all, because, despite what you think, I can handle ugly, and I can handle the anger and the resentment. I can take it. And Lord knows I deserve it. I’ve blamed myself every single day since I let you leave my house alone. And I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it.” He took a sharp breath, his look intense, brooding. “Now, would you please let me walk you to your fucking door?”

Going against her better instincts, she did let him walk her to her fucking door.

Thirteen

One Week Later

“Jac?” Orion called, unlocking the door after about five minutes of pounding from the outside. She figured that Jaclyn was either sleeping or had her TV up so loud that she couldn’t hear the knocking. It was the new norm.

She had solidified a routine of eating all the foods that had come out in the past decades, all the TV shows recorded, songs released. Jaclyn was on some kind of mission to replace all her memories of The Cell, to sate her hunger throughout the years.

Orion had made sure she visited every few days because she wasn’t convinced that Jaclyn wasn’t going slowly insane. She was worried about her. The visits did not betray this, of course. She came to join her in a meal, a movie, sometimes video games, neither of them mentioning the conversation they’d had about revenge. About Doctor Bob Collins. It was like it never happened.

Neither of them were very good at talking about their feelings anyway. Not Jaclyn or Orion, at least. Shelby seemed to be better than all of them, checking in daily with texts, fucking inspirational quotes. The one part of their little threesome Orion was so sure would be wearing a straight-jacket and living in a padded room was faring better than they were.

It became too hard to try to keep up with Shelby, put on an act for her. Put on that fucking ankle chain every time she spoke to her.

So, they started to talk less and less, all three of them. Drifted apart. Orion couldn’t have expected they would stay in contact forever. They were connected by an invisible chain that would never be broken and would trail after them everywhere they went and everywhere they’d ever go, but that didn’t mean talking to each other didn’t make the chain rattle a little bit louder, make the pain hurt a little bit worse.