Key to Hell (Hell Night 4)

My stomach rumbles, and bile rises in my throat.

I need my key. I need to wipe away the lingering effects of touching Rella in my sleep. I need the pain to distract myself before I do something stupid and beg her for forgiveness. I don’t deserve her forgiveness. I deserve to fucking rot in hell beside all the other sick fucks who hurt women and children. But I can’t do that in front of her. I refuse to let her see that side of me. I’ve never cared what others thought of me before, but the thought of Rella pitying me is more than I can handle.

I start toward the bathroom.

“Aziah,” she calls.

I hesitate, but still don’t face her. I can’t bear to see the repulsion and fear that she surely has to be feeling on her face.

“Look at me,” she requests gently.

I’m a fucking coward, because instead of doing what she asks, I stuff my hands into my pockets and grip my key instead.

I hear her moving around behind me on the bed, and I hope like hell she’s not approaching. Thankfully, the next time she speaks, she’s still a good distance away.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Anger spikes, and I spin around to face her. She’s sitting on the side of the bed with her hands tucked between her knees, her beautiful thick brown hair wild around her shoulders. The wariness is gone from her expression.

“Like fuck I didn’t,” I spew angrily. “I fucking touched you, Rella. Without your express permission. No one should ever touch you without your consent.”

She nods. “You’re absolutely right. But you were asleep, Aziah. We both were. It was out of your control.”

“That’s a bullshit excuse. There’s nothing that makes it okay for you to be touched the way I just touched you. How in the hell can you sit there and think otherwise? What if I hadn’t stopped?”

“You would have.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do,” she insists. “You wanna know why I know you would have stopped?” I keep quiet. “Because I trust you.”

I scowl. “Well, you shouldn’t.” I’d never hurt Rella. I was weak before when we were kids, but I’m not now. There’s nothing and no one who could force me to hurt her again.

I tense when she gets up from the bed. “There’s only a handful of people I trust, and you’re at the top of the list.” She tilts her head to the side. “But this is about more than today, isn’t it? You’ve always blamed yourself for what your father made you do to me.”

It’s not a question, but a statement.

I grip my key tighter when she takes a couple of steps toward me.

“I’ve never blamed you for that, Aziah. You were hurting just as much as I was. I hated every single second of what we were made to do, but I never hated you. You were always my hero, even when you couldn’t be.”

My insides churn, and my heart beats so hard it feels like it’s going to jump out of my chest. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. I wasn’t a fucking hero. If I were a hero, I would have been able to stop my father. I would have saved her before she tried to kill herself. I would have known she was alive and found her. I would have protected her from Marco and Gabriela.

“During every Hell Night,” she continues, “I was scared and hurt and prayed so hard it would be over quickly, but I was also grateful that it was you. I knew what your father threatened you with. I knew if you didn’t do what he asked of you, it would have been him. There wasn’t anything you could have done to stop him, so you made it as painless as possible for me. And in return, he raped you instead.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, phantom pain gripping my stomach. My father was never gentle with me, and I knew he would have been even rougher with Rella. Had I not given in to his demands, he would have hurt her a hundred times worse than he ever hurt me just for the simple fact that I defied him, and he knew hurting Rella would have destroyed me. He used that against me every single time.

I snap my eyes open when I feel Rella getting closer. I take a step back when she’s close enough for me to smell her unique peaches and cream scent.

“You need to let your guilt go. You’re the only one blaming yourself.”

Rationally, I know what she’s saying is true. I was just a young boy back then and was no match for my hulk of a father. Not to mention, had I overpowered him by some miracle, there were other adults in The Hall who would have helped him. During Hell Night, the adults turned into depraved maniacs. To them, Hell Night was a free-for-all for them to do anything sexual they wanted with the kids.

“Please don’t come any closer,” I beg hoarsely.

Her expression turns sad.

Instead of heeding my request, she takes another step forward. I spin on my heel, needing to be away from her. The slam of the bathroom door echoes against the walls. I lean back against the door, my chest rising and falling rapidly.