Page 24 of Ruined

I nearly jump when her hand is suddenly tapping my shoulder.

“Is that a yes?” I ask, itching to grab her hand in mine.

Tap.

Furrowing my brows, I say, “I’m going to guess that’s a yes, and no is two taps.”

Tap.

“Were you waiting for me to go to sleep so you could slip into the bathroom and lock the door?” I ask.

Tap.

I bite my cheek. I’m not sure why that was the first question I asked, but now that I know, I hate it. I want her to feel safe here. Safe in bed with me. And soon, safe in my arms.

“Do you not feel safe in the bedroom with me? The door’s locked,” I add, hoping that would change her answer.

Tap… Tap.

I can’t say I’m not surprised. Besides saving her a few times, I’ve given her no reason to fully trust me. And because being locked in this room with me probably is making it worse.

“I can’t say I’m happy about that. I want you to trust me, but I also get that it takes time. And then time might not even convince you that I’m not going to hurt you.” I press my lips together, hating everything that she went through. And she won’t even talk about it, she can’t.

“Are they the reason you lost your voice?” I ask.

Tap.

Biting down on my lip, I swallow the lump in my throat. They’re all dead. Every single one of them. I’m going to hunt down each one of the monsters that took this beautiful angel’s voices away.

“Are they all dead?” I finally ask.

Blake takes longer to tap my shoulder than I like, and I can’t take it anymore. Sitting up, I grab her right shoulder, pulling her towards me. Pain radiates over her face in the moonlight, but I don’t focus on that.

“They’re not dead, are they?”

She sucks on her bottom lip before shaking her head.

“He left them alive?” I growl, my hand digging into her shoulder. Thankfully it’s not the one that was stitched. If it was, I might have felt a little bad about it.

“How many are left?” I ask. I doubt she’ll tell me, not with the fear in her eyes. I know I’m scaring her, but I can’t handle knowing the ones who hurt her are still out there. That her family has done nothing to put an end to them. Not with Salem married to her father’s enforcer, Zane. Salem would wipe out the entire planet hunting them down. Unless they don’t know.

“Holy fuck, they don’t know they’re still alive, do they?” I sit back against the headboard. From the corner of my eye, I watch Blake shake her head.

“How many are still alive, Blake? All of them?” I ask, glancing down. Blake lies on her right side facing me, hands tucked under her chin, one of her fingers slipped into her mouth.

I hate that asking these questions brought her back to whatever happened. I can see the fight in her eyes, the one to stay in the present but to know that the flashbacks are there. They’re seeping through, dragging her back to that hell.

Slipping down, I face her, mimicking her position, just not putting my finger into my mouth.

“My mother used to beat me. It started when I was two, according to the records. I just remember growing up with her hitting me. I remember this one time when I was five, I had spilled milk on the counter trying to make myself some cereal. It was stale, but it was either that or those canned Vienna sausages, and one time I opened a can and found maggots, so it was cereal, it was just safer. Anyhow, I’m getting off-topic. I spilled some milk, and before I could clean it, she saw it. She had a belt named Jerry. I’m not sure why she named it that. Maybe someone named Jerry had hurt her at some point. Maybe that’s why she used to beat me. I woke up in the hospital not remembering much but spilling the milk. I had a broken my arm and a severe concussion, so I was forced to stay in the hospital for a few days. It was like a vacation.”

I don’t know why I word vomit that story, maybe to make her feel comfortable, to understand that I also used to be scared. It had all come to a boiling point, and now I’m not scared of anything. Or I wasn’t. Until her.

Blake reaches across, surprising me when she presses a finger over my bare chest.I’m sorry.She writes into my skin.

“It’s okay.” I smile.

Blake goes to pull her hand away. Stopping her, I slap my larger palm over the back of her hand. Blake’s eyes widen slightly, glancing between my eyes and my chest.

---