Chapter 13
That night I learn about Lisa's nightmares.
After the shower, she joins me in my bed, her toned body curving around me from the back, one heavy arm draping over my torso. I stiffen at first, unsure of what to expect, but all she does is go to sleep while holding me close to her. I can hear the even rhythm of her breathing as I stare into the darkness, and then I gradually fall asleep too.
I wake up to a strange noise. It startles me out of deep sleep, and my eyes fly open, my heart pounding from an adrenaline surge.
What was that? For a moment, I don't dare breathe, but then I realize that the sounds are coming from the other side of the bed—from the woman sleeping beside me.
I sit up in bed and peer at her. It looks like she rolled away from me in the night, gathering all the blankets to herself. I'm completely naked and uncovered, and I actually feel a little chilly with the air-conditioning running at full blast.
The sounds escaping her throat are muffled, but there is a raw quality to them that gives me goosebumps. They remind me of an animal in pain. She's breathing hard, almost gasping for air.
"Lisa?" I say uncertainly. I don't really know what to do in this situation. Should I wake her up? She's clearly having a bad dream. I recall her telling me about her family, that they were all murdered, and I can't help feeling pity for this beautiful, twisted woman.
She cries out, her voice low and hoarse, and flops over onto her back, one arm hitting the pillow only a few inches away from me.
"Um, Lisa?" I reach out cautiously and touch her hand.
She mumbles and turns her head, still deeply asleep. If we were anywhere but on this island, this would be the perfect moment for me to try to escape. As it stands, however, there's really no point in going anywhere, so I just watch Lisa warily, wondering if she's going to wake up on her own or if I should try harder to wake her.
For a few moments, it seems like she's settling down, her breathing calming a bit. Then she suddenly cries out again.
It's a name this time.
"Ruby," she rasps out. "Ruby . . ."
For one shocking second, I feel a hot tide of jealousy sweeping over me. Ruby . . . She's dreaming of another woman.
Then my rational side reasserts itself. Ruby could easily be her mother or her sister—and even if she's not, why should I care that she's dreaming of her? It's not like she's my girlfriend or anything.
So I swallow and reach for her again, suppressing the residual pangs of jealousy. "Lisa?"
As soon as my fingers touch her arm, she grabs me, her motions so fast and startling that only a small gasp escapes me as she pulls me toward her. Her arms around me are inescapable, her embrace almost suffocating, and I can feel her shaking as she holds me tightly against her, my face pressed into her shoulder. Her skin is cold and clammy with sweat, and I can hear her heart galloping in her chest.
"Ruby," she mumbles into my hair, her fingers digging into my back with such force that I'm sure there will be bruises there tomorrow. Yet somehow I don't mind because I know she's not doing this on purpose. She's in the grip of her nightmare and she's seeking comfort—and I'm the only one who can provide it right now.
After a while, I can hear her breathing easing. Her arms relax a little, no longer squeezing me with such desperation, and her frantic heartbeat begins to slow. "Ruby," she whispers again, but there's less pain in her voice now, as though she's reliving happier times with her, whatever those may be.
I let her hold me, not moving lest I wake her from her now-peaceful rest. She's not the only one receiving comfort here. Despite everything she's done to me, I can't deny that a part of me wants this from her, this feeling of closeness, of safety. She's the only thing I have to fear; logically, I know that. It doesn't matter, though, because right now I feel like she's holding the darkness at bay, keeping me safe from whatever other monsters may be lurking out there.
Just as I'm keeping her safe from her nightmares.
When I wake up the next morning, Lisa is gone again.
"Where is she?" I ask Sorn at breakfast, watching as she cuts up a mango for me. I still feel an occasional twinge of discomfort when I move, a reminder of my captor's more exotic proclivities.
"A work emergency," she says, her hands moving with a graceful efficiency that I can't help but admire. "She should be back in a couple of days."
"What kind of work emergency?"
Sorn shrugs. "I don't know. You can ask Lisa that when she returns."
I look at her, trying to understand what motivates her . . . and Lisa. "You said I'm the first girl she brought here, to this island," I say, keeping my tone casual. "So what did she do with the others?"
"There were no others." She's done with the mango, and she's placing the plate in front of me before sitting down to eat her own breakfast.
"So why is she doing this to me? I know she's got peculiar tastes, but surely there are women who are into that—"
Sorn grins at me, showing even white teeth. "Of course. But she wants you."
"Why? What's so special about me?"
"You'll have to ask Lisa that."
Again that non-answer. Her evasiveness makes me want to scream. I spear a piece of mango with my fork and chew it slowly, thinking this over.
"Is it because of Ruby?" I'm not sure what makes me ask this, except that I can't get that name out of my head.
It's apparently the right question, though, because it stops Sorn in her tracks. "Lisa told you about Ruby?" She sounds shocked.
"She mentioned her." It's not really a lie. Her name did come up, even though Lisa doesn't know it. "Why does that surprise you?"
She shrugs again, no longer looking so shocked. "I guess it doesn't, now that I think about it. If she's going to tell anyone, it would probably be you."
Me? Why? I'm burning with curiosity, but I try to keep my expression impassive, like none of this is news to me. "Of course," I say calmly, eating my mango.
"Then you understand, Jennie," she says, looking at me. "You have to understand at least a little bit. Your resemblance to her is uncanny. I saw the photo, and she could've been your younger sister."
"That similar?" I struggle to keep the shock out of my voice. My heart is pounding in my chest. This is so much more than I could've hoped for, and Sorn just handed me this information on a silver platter.
She frowns. "She didn't tell you that?"
"No," I say. "She didn't tell me much. Just a little bit." Just her name, uttered in the throes of a nightmare.
Sorn's eyes widen as she realizes that she probably revealed more than she should have. She looks unhappy for a moment, but then her expression smooths out. "Oh well," she says. "I guess now you know. I'll have to tell Lisa about this, of course."
I swallow, and the piece of mango slides down my throat like a rock. I don't want her to tell Lisa anything. I don't know what she'll do to me when she finds out that I know about Ruby—that I saw her when she was at her most vulnerable.
My stupid curiosity.
"Why?" I say, trying not to sound anxious. "You're the one she's going to be upset with, not me."
"I wouldn't be too sure of that, Jennie," Sorn says, giving me a slightly malicious smile. "And besides, I don't ever keep secrets from Lisa. She's very good at prying them out of people."
And getting up, she starts washing the dishes.
I spend the next two days alternating between speculating about Ruby and worrying about Lisa's return.
Who is she? Someone who looks a lot like me, apparently. So similar that she could be my younger sister, Sorn said. How old is this girl? Who is she to Lisa? The questions gnaw at me, interfering with my sleep. She took me because of my resemblance to her—that much is obvious to me. But why? What happened to her? Why is she in her nightmares?
I want to know, I want to understand, yet I'm afraid of Lisa's reaction when she returns and finds out that I snooped. I could try to explain that I learned all of this accidentally, that I didn't mean to invade her privacy, but I strongly suspect my captor is not the understanding type.
Sorn doesn't tell me anything else about Ruby. In fact, she doesn't talk to me much at all. She's one of those rare individuals who seems happy being by herself. If I were her, I would go crazy being stuck here on this island, doing nothing but cooking, cleaning, and looking after Lisa's sex toy, but she seems perfectly fine with it.
I, on the other hand, am far from fine. I am constantly thinking about my old life, missing my family and friends. They probably think I'm dead at this point. I'm guessing there was a big search for me, but I doubt it yielded any results.
I also think about Hanbin, wondering if he recovered from his beating. It had looked so brutal, what Lisa's thug had done to him. Does Hanbin know that it was my fault? That he got attacked in his house because of me?
Taking a deep breath, I tell myself that it doesn't matter if he knows or not. Whatever Hanbin and I could've had together is over. I belong to Lisa now, and there's no point in thinking about any other man.
In a way, I am lucky. I know that. I'm sure many girls end up in far worse circumstances than me. I once saw a documentary about sexual slavery, and the images of those hollow-eyed women had haunted me for days. They'd seemed broken, completely and utterly crushed by whatever had been done to them, and even the fact that they'd been rescued didn't seem to dispel the suffering etched into their faces.
My captivity is different. It's much nicer, much more comfortable. Lisa is not trying to break me, and I'm grateful for that. I may be her sex slave, but at least she's my only master. Things could definitely be much worse.
Or so I tell myself as I wait for her return, desperately hoping that Lisa's reaction to my prying won't be as bad as I fear.