Hello! Thank God it's the weekend, right!
I hope you are all safe and secure from the terrible storms and tornados in the US. I saw the news this morning and my heart just broke :(
I drove us around the edge of the city, avoiding lighted areas and people as much as possible. Caution was necessary because we were also being followed. Certain cars stood out a mile when one is used to looking for them; which I was.
Ms Maksimov wasn't stupid enough to just let me pay for the girl and walk out. She was clever, too clever. But I was better. It was my job to be.
The vile woman would make sure I followed her terms and did as I'd been told. We'd only be in the city for a few days before the girl and I flew out, and then we would be untraceable. I wasn't going to risk crossing Maksimov or her men in the meantime.
I didn't rule or own this area. There was no inherent fear here of my name or actions. Though I was known, it wasn't enough for people to run. People in the right circles did a double-take at Edward Cullen, but that was it. Not like at home.
In my area, I was feared, and for very good reasons. One of them was that if I chose to give someone a bullet, they took it. They didn't even have a chance to plead their case. They were dead before they heard the gun go off.
In the car, the girl just sat in the back staring out of the window, expressionless. She didn't have a clue in the world she would now be able to live. Or did she? Did she grasp that being away from that place meant she would get to see another day? She would be able to move, breathe, and live her life. Granted, she would be restricted and monitored, but nothing like where she had just come from.
We finally pulled up to the gated house I had been renting for the last six months. I pushed the button on the dashboard in the car and the gates opened. The car rolled forward into the drive.
Once I'd pulled up to the entrance to the underground garage, a push of another button granted us access. I drove into the dark space and killed the engine. For a few minutes, we sat there, to get a breather.
Now calmer, I got out and went to grab her. She didn't put up a fuss, just let me pick her up easily… like a rag doll. Moving through the house, I turned on the lights with my elbow. Once we were in the den, I eased her down onto the leather couch. Now, it was time for a talk.
I stood in front of her and glared at the blank expression she wore. It was so frustrating for her to be like this. I needed her to notice me, talk to me. Tell me how I could help her. Of course, I also hated being ignored.
Dad had tried to prepare me for how she might behave, but nothing could have prepared me for this, the emptiness.
"You are here because I paid for you. You are mine, to do what I want with. Do you understand?" I asked her, being harsh on purpose. Though I hated it, I needed something from her. I needed her to prove to me she wasn't dead inside. It was lies, I knew that, but she didn't. Where was her self-preservation? Where was the fight she once had in her?
She said nothing. Her eyes stayed downcast; her fingers linked together in her lap.
"If you want to continue to live, you will understand this. According to Ms. Maksimov, your name is Kate. You're twenty years old, and you're from LA. Am I right?" I asked, but she didn't reply. They weren't really her details; it was some shit Ms Maksimov had put together. "Dammit, will you look at me!" I shouted.
She didn't even flinch.
How broken was she? I knelt in front of her, my hands on her knees. "Please, look at me," I asked more gently. Even though I couldn't let it show, I was angry.
At her. At me. At Ms. Maksimov. At the situation...
When she didn't raise her head, I crooked my finger under her chin and gave it a gentle nudge to raise her head. I needed to see her eyes.
Bloodshot. Puffy. Brown. Pale.
The girl needed food and comfort. But I didn't know if I could give her the latter. Will I do more damage? God, I was craving to hold her, to rock her body until she understood she was going to be okay. How could I even try to start giving her comfort when she was so dead inside?
"Are you hungry?" I whispered.
Her pupils dilated slightly at the mention of food. She must be starving. She might have not spoken, but her body had screamed volumes. Taking her by the hand, I led her to the kitchen. I didn't have much stocked, and I didn't think we'd both be able to stay awake for food to turn up if I ordered in. I could rustle something up, though. Letting her weak body lean on me for support, I flicked the lights on and noted she blinked against the harsh light.
"I don't know what you like. PB and J?" I offered, knowing full well she would eat just about anything by this point.
She didn't respond, as expected. I set her down at the small table for two, just by the window so I could keep an eye on her while I got out all of the ingredients and made a start. Her focus stayed on something outside.
Freedom, no doubt, I thought.
As soon as I was done, I placed the plate of food in front of her. It wasn't much, but she was lucky I hadn't tried actually cooking for her. At least it was something.
"It's not bad or poisoned. You need to eat," I said plainly.
It took her over an hour, with me not looking at her, for her to finish. She nibbled and chewed tiny bits at a time until it was all gone. I wanted to smile at her small achievement, but I couldn't. I couldn't show any positive emotion toward her. Not yet.
That would be too dangerous at this moment, and I was risking enough as it were.
I needed for her to settle in, and get used to things, before I started to show my true colors. I didn't need her hating me any more than she probably did already or panicking before we got to know each other.
"Would you like a bath… or a shower, perhaps?" I offered while taking the plate away to put in the dishwasher.
Again, she didn't reply.
I sighed in frustration, took her by the hand, and then pulled her through the house. It wasn't until I led her through to my own bedroom that she froze. Tears trickled down her cheeks as her eyes focused on the large bed.
"No, don't think like that. That won't happen, I promise. I promise!" I whispered feeling disgusted at the thought of forcing myself on her. I tugged on her hand, urging her far away from the bed.
Her hand was so soft in my own hand, but still so cold. I stood her in the corner of the bathroom while I ran a bath warm enough to soothe and bring up her body back up to temperature, but not hot enough to put her into shock with her cold limbs.
When it was done, I made my way back over to her, ready to get her undressed.
I started on the socks and then moved to the robe. Though uncertain about her panties and bra, it had to be done. I couldn't show weakness. Not now.
She let out the tiniest whimper when I pulled her panties down. Shocked by the sound, my head whipped up to her eyes. They were scrunched shut. Was she in pain? I slowed my movements down, keeping my eyes on her face. She kept her eyes shut, which I hated.
Her eyes told me more than she ever could.
Edward would never force himself. I want you to remember that and no, Bella has never been through any type of sexual trauma. That is not something I'd write about.
See you tomorrow!