Page 21 of Darkness I Become
Asha fought back as hard as she could, but he was too heavy for her to lift. She squirmed helplessly like an eel trapped underneath a rock, her hands flailing wildly. He smelled like stale sweat and alcohol, and the stench invaded her nostrils, overpowering everything else. And in an instant, his hand closed around her throat.
She tried to gasp, but couldn’t. She felt like she was drowning as her vision darkened at the edges, desperately trying to kick her way to the surface, even as the light faded above her. His grip loosened and blood rushed to her face, and all she could see was Angel’s malicious little smile, enjoying every second of her struggle.
“Think he’ll still want you after this?” he asked with a little laugh that made Asha’s skin crawl. “Well, Cade’s in for a nasty surprise when he fucks you and feels me still inside you, sticking to your insides. You think he’ll still take you when you’re nothing but my leftovers?”
He reached down and pulled up the hem of Asha’s night gown, and she shrieked, exposed from the waist down. She considered giving up for a moment, afraid of how he might hurt her even worse if she continued resisting, but her body simply wouldn’t allow it. When he attempted to shove his filthy fingers into her mouth, she bit down hard, making him scream and smack her furiously across the face to make her let go…but briefly, he released her.
Panting and aching, she flailed her arms out toward the bedside table, and her hand closed around a glass ashtray. In a split second,she’d smashed it into Angel’s face, shattering it. Blood poured from his nose, and he howled in pain and staggered backwards off of her.
“You fucking bitch,” he growled. “You almost got glass in my fucking eye.”
“Good,” Asha retorted, her breath heavy.
For a moment, she thought she’d won. She thought he might genuinely give up and return her to her bunk, seeing that she couldn’t be bullied into fucking him.
She was very wrong.
Angel went from seething to laughing in the space of a minute. It was the kind of cold, cruel laughter that could make one’s hair curl. He grabbed an empty glass bottle from a nearby end table, holding it by the bottleneck, and smashed the opposite end. Asha eyed the sharp, jagged edges with alarm.
“I like a challenge,” he said, his face contorting with a terrifying combination of amusement and rage. “You wanna fight dirty, sweetheart? Fine by me. You’re gonna scream so loud, the whole Nest’s gonna hear you.”
Unfortunately, he was right.
Chapter 7
Asha hacked a dry, painful cough. Her head was pounding, and her whole body ached. The rough, uncomfortable cot she was lying on didn’t help. Straws poked up out of the mattress, and the rough bedsheet was irritating on her damaged skin. Covered in scrapes and bruises, she couldn’t get comfortable in any position.
“More water,” Leo demanded, holding a cup to her lips. “Just a few more sips.”
“You’re gonna waterboard me,” Asha complained, but even to her, she sounded like death; her throat was raw from screaming. She realized too late that Wastelanders likely wouldn’t understand the reference.
Regardless, Leo gave a half-hearted chuckle. “I promise I’ll give you a hit of the good stuff if you drink.”
She reluctantly took another few sips, her swollen lips impeding her. At least it washed the coppery taste of blood out of her mouth. Several long candles were lit by her bedside—the best light that one could get at this late hour—and briefly questioned the wisdom of performing medical procedures by candlelight.
Not that we have much choice.
“That molar has to come out, I’m afraid,” Leo said critically as he took the cup back from her. “It’s broken, and leaving it will invite infection. Consider yourself lucky that I’m giving you painkillers before I pull it out. I’ve pulled a lot of teeth here, and most have to do it raw.”
“Is that what you’d call me, Leo?” Asha asked weakly, closing her eyes. “Lucky?”
His expression darkened briefly. “No. Sorry.”
He busied himself with examining her battered left wrist, which was mottled purple. She hissed in pain as Leo gently tested its mobility, and he frowned.
“Minor muscle strain and bad bruising,” he said. “You’ll need to rest it.”
He retrieved bandages from his medical bag and began to wrap her wrist. Asha winced as he pulled the bindings tight, but didn’t complain. She wasn’t going to jeopardize her chance of getting that sweet painkiller he promised. Leo started sanitizing forceps with a small bottle of alcohol that he’d told her he made himself.Not as pure as I’d like,he’d said,but better than nothing.
He’d subjected her to an invasive physical exam when she came in, as he had for the last four nights that she’d gone to Angel’s Wing. She hated lying back on the exam table, letting him look and touch between her legs. To Leo’s credit, he was nothing but detached and professional throughout the process, but it still deepened her feelings of humiliation.
There’s some bleeding,he’d said again tonight.Still mostly superficial tears, but…I worry about them getting worse if you keep fighting him, Asha.
Tears pricked her eyes, and she wanted to hide her bruised face in the pillow. She hadn’t told him the extent to which Angel had tortured her. But how could she not fight back in that situation? How was she expected to lie still and let him torment her, over and over?
She refused to gift him her silence. If he was going to break her, he would suffer for every damn second of it. It hadn’t even been a conscious decision on her part; it was her kneejerk reaction to his regime of torture. Perhaps, if she’d been a different—smarter,she added ruefully—sort of person, she could’ve simply locked herself away, like Lana had suggested. She could’ve just lain there, spaced out, and walked away a little less black and blue than she had for the last week. It was what everyone had told her to do, before and since:just lie still and let him get it over with.Maybe they were right. Maybe if she’d had something to lose or someone to survive for, she’d have been able to.
But she didn’t. The only person who’d tried to help her had also put her in this mess. And then there was still that voice of rage insideher, that little girl angry at a world that had failed her so miserably, that said,you won’t break me. You won’t.
