Page 133 of Black Castle

“Are you sure she doesn’t have a friend you know about?”

‘You be my little fuck hole’

“You disrespectful child! I’m asking you a question.”

‘—my little fuck hole’

“Are you even listening to what I’m saying?”

‘You be my little fuck hole.’

“Vivienne?”

“...Vivienne!”

Vivienne barely registers the violent pull on her shoulder before she is spun around, face-to-face with Carla. Irritation tightens the woman’s brow, but her kind brown eyes flicker downward, widening in horror.

“Blood of Jesus!” Carla flinches, taking a giant step back. Finally, a bit oriented, Vivienne follows Carla’s gaze to find her hand in a death grip with the kitchen knife, which is now slick with blood. Too much blood. The blade has dug deep, its cruel edge biting through the first layer of flesh. Yet, she feels nothing.

“May God not let our eyes see evil,” Carla whispers, her voice barely audible over the pounding silence between them.

Still dazed, Vivienne turns from the untouched slab of frozen chicken on the counter that she was prepping for dinner. Moving across the kitchen like a ghost, she leaves behind trails of red. The knife clatters into the sink, a sharp sound that ricochets through the quiet house. Then without a word, she disappears down the hall, into the bathroom.

She confronts the mirror immediately, the girl staring back at her barely recognizable. Hollow eyes, a face haunted by a ghost she can’t escape.

James Fadden.

The name alone makes bile rise in her throat. The phantom of his touch crawls over her skin, burning. Even with her eyes open, she feels him. She smells the acrid stink of tobacco laced with coffee. She hears the rasp of his voice, sickly sweet as he touches her like she belongs to him.

Her stomach twists, her breath stuttering.

She turns on the faucet, shoving her hand beneath the icy stream. The pain awakens instantly, fire blazing through her nerves. A sharp hiss escapes her lips. But it’s nothing compared to the scar carved deep in her bones.

She didn’t realize it on time but she is unraveling. Between years of abuse, Isadora’s sudden disappearance, her entangled relationship with a man harboring two personalities, and the man who holds her darkest secret, she is breaking apart.

Though Kenji barged in and dragged her out. James Fadden already made it clear. Either she gives in to his demands and gives him her body, or he tells her secret to Pennsylvania and destroy her completely.

She is tired and she can’t hide it any more. She can no longer smile it off like it’s nothing. She is tired, and she feels like crying, and this time, she doesn’t hold back. She does.

The sob breaks free before she can stop it. And then another. Her body shakes as she folds over the sink, sobbing into the rush of water, letting it conceal the sound of this vulnerable moment.

She doesn’t know how long she stayed like that. But when she lifts her head, her reflection is shattered, eyes red and swollen, cheeks damp, lips trembling.

A knock at the door startles her. She wipes her face with trembling hands.

“Are you okay in there?” Carla’s voice echoes from behind the door.

“I’m fine.” Vivienne takes in a sharp breath. She hears the sound of Carla’s footsteps receding.

After a few minutes, she finally steps out of the bathroom. When she reaches her room, Carla sits by the edge of her bed, a first aid kit resting on her lap. Her expression is unreadable. But her eyes seem to see everything.

“That must be deep,” she says, patting the space next to her on the bed. “Come, let me have a look.”

Vivienne sniffles, wiping her nose with the back of her palm. “Don’t worry. It’s fine.”

Carla doesn’t budge. “That wasn’t a request.”

The authority in her voice leaves no room for argument. Hesitant, Vivienne crosses the room and sinks into the space next to her on the bed.

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