Page 34 of Broken

“I’m so very pleased you are looking more like yourself. Hopefully, a couple more weeks of rest and you will look like your usual handsome self in our wedding pictures. I’m so excited.” My voice has reached strange squeaky levels that I have never heard it do before, and I do a very girly little clap to show I really am playing the part. They both look confused.

“What is the matter with you? What kinda game are you playing?” Grant asks with distrust lacing his voice. Normally, he would be right to distrust me, but I have resigned myself to this life. I just hope that if I give him a little of what he wants, then maybe for the rest of the time I can be left alone, like I have been this last few weeks. That, I can live with.

“No game, darling. I’m just excited for our wedding day to come. I have been planning it with Daphne for the last couple of days and now that you are better, it would be great to get your input,” I say cheerfully.

He looks over at Ryder, who just shrugs and begins helping himself to the food on the table. I follow his lead and do the same. Grant doesn’t move. Instead, his eyes flick to me like I’m a wild animal that he has yet to decide is dangerous or not. He still thinks I’m a threat to him, but I'm not. I don’t have the energy to be.

I spend the rest of the morning babbling politely about the wedding plans. My mouth is moving but my mind is somewhere far away from this place. Somewhere where I might actually stand a chance at being happy. Ryder doesn’t even look at me. His eyes flit everywhere but at me. I know that if his eyes did land on me it would hurt him because he knows the girl sitting in front of him is like this because of him. Not because Grant tried to break her, but because he refused to free her. He didn’t choose me and that broke me. It’s always the heart that breaks the worst. My body will heal long before my heart ever will.

The days pass by in a blur as we prepare for the wedding, but things with Grant are getting more tense. He is still nervous about this new amenable version of me. This is exactly what he wanted, and yet now that he has it, he doesn’t believe it's real. He thinks it is too good to be true and he doesn't trust me. Even though I stay calm and never argue back, he always resorts to violence. A slap to the face, a punch to the stomach, a spank on my arse. I am starting to think that it doesn’t even matter to him what version of Ava he has in front of him, he will always hate me, and that scares me.

I have tried to do everything I can to lessen the punishments. I don’t argue back, I do as I’m told, I even behave in a loving way towards him. Even with my emotions closed off, there's no way to stop the way each nicety makes me sick to my stomach. But still, I keep being nice and yet the beatings don’t stop. He finds any excuse and gets more creative every day. Yesterday, he even whipped me on my bare arse with his leather belt. I cried and sobbed hysterically every time the belt connected with my skin and yet, he still stood there with the same look of disgust on his face. I wanted to ask him how he could do it to me when his father had abused him so cruelly in this way, but I know that will only result in another punishment.

Last night, I lay in bed, on my side, feeling the heat and burn ripple across my arse and I let myself cry. Not just crying, I sobbed. I think that was when I realised Grant doesn’t want to keep me as his wife, he wants to hurt me. He is punishing me for something and I have to know what. I can't survive unless I know what I am fighting.

When I hear Ryder let himself into my room and sit on the bed beside me, I don’t say anything. I know it's him, not just because of the smell that is so very Ryder, but I can feel him. It’s like our souls are connected and we could always find each other. He lays down behind me, careful not to make contact with my arse, and he lays his arm over my chest tentatively. He is expecting for me to throw him out, but I am too far gone in my hysterics to even think about getting rid of him. I have bared my soul in this moment, let it feel everything that I keep hidden and there’s no denying that what my soul craves the most is him. No matter how much I deny it, or wish it wasn’t true, no matter how much he lets me down, it can’t be denied. I am in love with Ryder. So, I allow him to hold me, I even snuggle in and bask in his warmth. Even though he always chooses his job, and he leaves me here at the hands of my tormentor, when he holds me like this, I know he loves me too. What a fucked up situation we are in. Two souls desperate to be together, forced apart by obligation.

Waking up this morning felt different. Ryder was gone, no sign that he was ever here except for the warmth I feel in my soul. After my revelation last night, not just about how I truly feel about Ryder, but also about the fucked up situation I am in with Grant, I know I need to act. I need to find out why I really am here and what Grant wants with me.

The morning passes as it has every day; breakfast with Grant and Ryder, followed by time planning the wedding with Daphne. She keeps trying to convince me that today is the day we need to try on wedding dresses, but I keep refusing. I know it’s stupid but I have always been raised slightly superstitious. I have always believed you should only ever put on a wedding dress for the man you love, or your love life will forever be impacted. I’m sure it is just a silly superstition passed down through families that no other family has ever even heard of, but I have always lived by it. Not that I have ever been a wedding kinda girl, but when I did allow myself to dream, this was not the scenario. I dreamt of going to dress shops with my mum, trying on beautiful dresses and watching her tear up as she tells me how beautiful I am. Even though my mum will never be here to experience it with me, I still imagine the dress shops. Never in my wildest dreams did I think that a crazy old lady who styles herself based on the queen would come to the house where I’m essentially being held hostage to help me plan my wedding and bring dresses for me to try on. I know that she has turned one of the rooms past Grant’s office into a makeshift bridal salon and there are more dresses in there than some dress shops have.

I agree that we will do it tomorrow and instead, we discuss wedding favours for the hundreds of guests that will be coming, not one of them I know. We will be having the event at a hall just outside of the city. I have seen pictures and Daphne has run down the itinerary for the day, but I could hear what she was really saying. With each step, she explained the security protocols that would be put in place by Ryder. She was basically saying ‘don’t even think about running’, but what she doesn’t realise is that I never will. I love my papa too much to ever risk his life. Without Ryder’s help to free me and keep us both safe, I would stand no chance, so I don’t even bother.

Grant only lasts about ten minutes into the wedding talk and both he and Ryder leave. Ryder never stays for long while this is going on, it's like he can't listen to the planning. I know he uses this time to go for his run because I have seen him come back, he looks hot and sweaty, and my sex starved brain just wants to lick him. I try not to run into him after that little embarrassing episode.

Today, Daphne finishes early as she has an appointment with the venue and I realise this is my moment. Ryder is still on his run and Grant is alone in his office, I need answers. Knocking on the office door and waiting for him to let me in sets my nerves on edge. My heart is racing and my palms are sweating. In fact, I am sweating everywhere because he is so unpredictable and I just have no idea how this will unfold. He calls me in and I tentatively walk in with a smile, I want to show him I’m not a threat, but I see the distrust and loathing cross his face the minute he sees it’s me. He stands from his seat and walks around to lean against the front of his desk as I take a few steps forward further into the room. He just stares at me and I know he is trying to intimidate me.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Grant. I need to talk to you.” His eyebrow quirks up and I know he can hear the difference in my voice. He is no longer talking to bubblegum, robot Ava. No, right now, standing in front of him ready to bare her soul is the real me. He remains silent, so I carry on.

“For the last few days, I have tried to be the person you told me you wanted me to be. I have taken all your punishments, even when they have not been deserved. I have thrown myself into the wedding plans because you promised to save my papa. You said that you wanted to break me and make me into your perfect wife, I let you do that. Yet still you hate me. Still you punish me and I need to know why. I need to know what I can do to get you to stop hating me. I know we will never have a real relationship, but when I agreed to marry you, you told me exactly what you wanted and I am giving you that. If that’s not enough, then what do I do? I can’t live my life on edge, knowing you are going to attack me at any moment for no reason. I don’t deserve that. I have done nothing to you,” I say softly, trying to be honest and beg for the chance at a normal life.

Grant’s face shifts into one of fury and he closes the gap between us instantly. He fists my hair into his hands and tugs my head as I cry out in pain. My eyes were downcast, refusing to make eye contact for fear of provoking him, but that was pointless. Now, he pulls my hair so my eyes make contact with his and I can see the fire burning there.

“You do deserve it. You deserve this and so much more. I am punishing you because I can’t punish your mother,” he spits at me, tugging further on my hair. Hearing Grant mention my mum is like being hit by a brick. How can he want to punish my mother? He must have only been about twelve when my mum died, he couldn’t possibly have known her.

“My mum… how do you even know my mum?” I stutter and I feel him tug harder on my hair at just the mere mention of my mum.

“Haven’t you ever wondered why my father is constantly bailing your father out of shit? You should have lost your house and drowned in poverty years ago, yet he kept bailing your pathetic arses out of shit. Everytime your father pissed away your inheritance, mine replaced it for you so you would never know. He has basically been funding your father's lifestyle for years. Had he not, I'm sure he would have got himself killed a long time ago,” he growls at me, releasing my hair. As he does, I feel my legs give way and I fall to the floor. My brain is spinning and it is making me feel so dizzy. I know there have been occasions when I have questioned how we had not fallen into the shit, but I guess I didn’t want to look too closely. I never even imagined it was all because we were under the protection of the biggest crime boss in London.

“Why is he protecting us? I didn’t even know your father before I met him with you,” I say from my heap on the floor.

“You may not have met him, but your mother did.”

“What?... I… When?” I stutter and just the thought of my sweet school teacher mum having anything to do with a crime boss is baffling.

“She was his whore!” he spits out and that spurs me into action. I leap off the ground as fast as I can and push Grant as hard as I can. Whilst he is off his guard, I pull my hand back and punch him in the nose as hard as I can. The crack as my knuckles connect and the bridge of his nose shatters fills the room and a pain shoots up my arm, but I take pleasure in knowing that his pain is worse. Grant’s roar fills the room and he clutches his hand to his nose and as soon as he feels the warm blood trickling from his nose he lashes out.

His hand connects with my cheek in a loud crack and I’m stunned even though I had seen his hand coming towards me, almost as though in slow motion. My skin prickles and then starts to burn as my head is knocked to the side. Black spots swamp into my vision and the dizziness causes me to stumble backwards until I find my feet again.

“How fucking dare you call my mum a whore!” I shout once I have gotten my bearings back and Grant’s laughter fills the room.

“You have no idea, do you? Your mother and my father were fucking for years before you were born. They were at school together, childhood sweethearts. She wanted to settle down with him, but only if he left this life. He refused, but she still couldn’t let him go. They were young lovers who wanted different things. My father met my mother, someone who wasn’t afraid to stand by his side and rule this kingdom, but still your mother refused to let go. Even when I was born, that wasn’t enough for her to close her fucking legs.” I stand there completely stunned, not quite knowing what to do. Part of me wants to rage at him and beat the shit out of him for saying crap about my mum, but then the other part of me feels so incredibly broken that this might be true. I don’t know anything about my mum’s life when she was younger. She didn’t live long enough for us to be able to become friends and talk about boys or past loves, and obviously, it's not something Papa would ever talk about. I don’t know if it’s that I don’t believe him or that I don’t want to.

“You’re lying,” I mutter, but we both can hear there’s no conviction behind my words and the evil chuckle that passes his lips is infuriating. He seems to have given up trying to clean the blood off his nose and it is slowly trickling and spread across his face where he has tried to wipe it, but he is too far gone to care.

“Why the fuck would I lie? Do you think I would make up the worst story of my life? I know you know that my mother is also dead, but do you know anything about it?” I am shocked by the pain I hear in his voice and I feel an emptiness in the pit of my stomach as my brain is telling me I don’t want to know the answer to his questions, so I just shake my head.

“My mother was in a car accident and if you ask anyone, they will tell you she died at the scene, that's even what was reported in the news, but of course, that's just the version my father insisted be told. Instead, she was taken to hospital in a critical condition and my father was called. He was informed of her condition and the fact that she would die soon. They told him to come and say goodbye and that during her lucid moments she asked for me. But he never took me to say goodbye, do you know why?” he asks whilst staring at me with tears in his eyes. I ignore them because I can already feel the exact same tears flowing down my cheeks. I don’t answer him because I know he doesn’t need me to.

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