I’ll stay beside her for as long as she needs, mending every cut, tending to her every need until she’s healed. I’ll make damn sure there’s not a single scar left on her soft skin when all is said and done. Not a memory of what they did to her will stay behind. Only this. The two of us, the way it should be. I close my eyes, comforted by the thought, but it doesn’t last for long when she stirs.
“Why are you the way you are?” She whispers her question carefully and as I peer down at her, her lashes flutter and she stares straight ahead. Her thumb brushes gently along my side, making soothing circles.
“I found others like me, and that was enough.” My memory drifts to what feels like a different lifetime. A small boy staring across a cell not until the one Delilah was just in. If she weren’t settled across my chest, resting on top of me, I’d give in to the urge to move, to get up and do and think of anything else.
“I need more than that. I need you to tell me something. I need to know something about why you are the way you are.”
“We can talk about anything else.”
“Tell me … tell me, Marcus.” My name sounds foreign on her lips. There’s a hesitation, a tone she hasn’t taken before.
Sucking in a deep breath, I swallow the lump in my throat. I hear his voice again as the back of my eyes prick.
“You already know, don’t you?”
“You haven’t told me,” she whispers.
“You know I was taken, when I was a child. It happened so fast.” My body’s stiff but I heave in a deep breath, readjusting on the bed. “I was walking by myself to my aunt’s house. She wasn’t used to having kids. One minute there wasn’t a worry in the world other than getting home before the streetlights turned on, and the next …”
It’s been a long time since I thought of that night, of the moments before I wound up in that cell. Delilah doesn’t push for me to continue, but when I peer down at her, her gaze is fixed on the mirror, staring intently at our reflection in it.
“They kept us in a basement that was sectioned into cells. Four men.”
“Us?” she questions.
“You’ve read the reports.”
“They say you died,” she whispers.
“Forensics weren’t quite the same then,” I admit, although my voice is tight.
“That doesn’t explain why …” she doesn’t finish. It doesn’t explain why I fled, why I didn’t go back to my aunt’s. Why I couldn’t bear to trust or talk to anyone.
For a moment I contemplate telling her about her father, but it’s far too risky when she’s in a state like this and, more importantly, there’s another person I’ve never spoken about. Another soul who I failed and I’ll never forgive myself for that.
“There was a boy with me. He was younger and he was,” I stop to suck in a deep breath, steadying myself as I remember the details of what he looked like. “He had large eyes, the kind that are meant to tell stories,” I explain. “He was my friend,” I tell her. “For weeks we were in there and we had each other. Then one day they came.”
I remember the sound of the gate opening, the loud creaking and how it startled me awake. “We slept together and when they came it woke us up, huddled in the farthest corner of the room.”
“They took him?” she guesses and as I shake my head, I realize there are tears running down my face. “They grabbed me, but I got away and I went back to the corner.” My words are careful as they come out one by one, afraid of being spoken, but more afraid of not getting out the reason why my soul is black. “I shoved him out of it,” I say and my bottom lip quivers.
“We could see what they did on the other side of the hall. In the other cell where they kept all—” I can’t finish and instead I remember how I shoved him out of the way to scurry to the corner. “I pushed him aside and he was closer to them.”
“They came for me, and I sacrificed the younger, weaker boy to live a little longer.
“I watched, forced myself to watch when I realized what I’d done. I’ll never not hear his screams. He tried not to. He stared back at me and I know he didn’t hold it against me, but they took their time and eventually both of us were crying. I swear I tried to convince them to stop and to take me. I begged them.
“They ignored me. They didn’t stop until they were done. Raped him, abused him and after hours, killed him. All the while I watched and screamed for them to take me instead. That’s the measure of who we are as people, isn’t it? Our humanity. When it comes down to it, we’ll sacrifice the ones we love just to stay alive.”