Page 14 of The Colour of Revenge

---

Pathetic.

“Naomi…” he mutters, voice shaky. He stiffens, trying to hold it together, but I see it.

The fear.

Then I hear it.

Naomi.

The name slams into me like a fist to the gut, and suddenly, I’m not in this room anymore.

I’mthere.

Edward’s on top of me.

His sweaty body pins me to the bed, his breath heavy, his hands everywhere.

I can’t fight. I never can. Hands tied. Feet bound. Always.

“Naomi,” he moans, voice thick with possession. His hips push forward, again, again, again—

I go somewhere else.

I have to.

Survival depends on it.

He tells me he saved me from the other monsters.

But if that’s true… then why do I feel even more trapped?

He comes once a week. The rest of the time, I’m alone. Shackled to a wall like an animal in a room that stinks of piss, blood, and vomit.

I hear the others. Screams, muffled cries. But I never see them.

Just him.

Only him.

The memory slams shut.

I’m back.

I’m here.

But my hands are trembling. My back is pressed against the cold hotel wall, my pulse hammering against my ribs.

With shaking hands I bring out my phone, stabbing out a text to Dr Morgan.

Carina:Ppositive words os tthee day?

The reply is immediate.

Doc M:You are experiencing distress right now, I can tell. Remember: Your worth was never determined by their actions. Your strength comes from within, not from their permission. Breathe through this moment—I'm here.

I let her words settle inside me, sinking their claws into the memory and dragging me out.

Lifting my head I catch Gareth staring at me. Studying me.

---