Page 20 of UnTrained: Volume One
My name—my real name—hangs in the air like something fragile and precious that might shatter if either of us moves too quickly.
"Good girl," Aiden says softly. "That's all I needed to hear."
His hand touches my back, gentle now, stroking along my spine. The tenderness after the pain makes me shudder, a memory tugging forward from the back of my mind.
"Lana," he says, testing the name. "That's a beautiful name."
I squeeze my eyes shut tighter. I feel as though I’ve failed somehow, despite his words and gentle touch.
"Can you stand up for me, baby?"
I push myself up from the bench on trembling legs, my movements unsteady. The burning sensation across my bottom makes me wince with each shift of my weight. Aiden's hand remains on my back, steadying me as I find my balance.
"Look at me, Lana," he says, and hearing my name in his voice sends another shiver through me.
I lift my eyes to meet his, expecting to see satisfaction or cruelty there. Instead, there's something else. Relief, maybe. Or concern. The complexity of his expression confuses me more than harsh indifference would.
"I'm sorry I had to do that," he says, his thumb brushing across my cheek to catch a tear I didn't realize had fallen. "But you needed to remember who you are."
I don't know how to respond to that. The apology feels foreign, dangerous.
But Aiden's blue eyes hold something different, something that makes my chest tight.
"Who am I?" I whisper, the question slipping out before I can stop it.
His hand stills against my cheek. "You're Lana," he says simply. "You're a person, not a number. Not property."
The words should comfort me. Instead, though, they feel like lies, pretty words meant to manipulate me into compliance.
I've heard promises before—whispered assurances that turned to ash the moment I believed them.
"What do you want from me?" I ask, my voice barely audible.
Aiden's jaw tightens slightly. "I want you to remember who you were before they took that away from you."
I shake my head, fresh tears spilling down my cheeks. "I don't know how to be her anymore."
The admission tears something open inside my chest. It's the truth I've been running from—that whatever they did to me worked. The girl named Lana feels like a stranger, someone I might have known once but can no longer reach.
"We'll figure it out together," Aiden says, his voice gentle but firm. "One step at a time."
I want to laugh at the absurdity of it.
We'llfigure it out together.
The words feel like sandpaper against my raw nerves. Together implies partnership, equality.
Those things don’t exist.
Something flickers across his face—pain, maybe, though I can't imagine why my words would hurt him. He bought me. This is what he paid for.
"That's not—" He stops himself, running a hand through his dark hair. "Fuck. This is harder than I thought it would be."
I don't know what to make of his frustration. Is he disappointed in his purchase? Have I already failed him somehow?
"I'm sorry," I whisper automatically, the words as natural as breathing. "I'll do better. Whatever you want, I'll?—"
"Stop." His voice cuts through my apology with sharp authority, and I freeze mid-sentence. "Don't apologize for telling me the truth."
