Chapter Seven- Trust
I woke up drowsily to see the light barely coming through the windows. My whole body was mildly aching, causing me to groan softly. I gradually rose myself out of the bed and soon everything came to focus. The whole cabin was dimly lit, it was only morning, and it became evident to me that I was alone. That made me feel slightly uneasy and all I could hope was that Tom was okay or that didn't make a mistake by coming here. I saw there was sweats laying neatly on the table next to the bed. I assumed they were for me and I headed to bathroom to clean up. After successfully washing my hair and my body and coming out smelling sweet and thankfully clean, I decided to explore the cabin. I found a bookcase that before I hadn't noticed, it was small and it seemed it had too many books to handle. The books were all Jane Austin's classics and were from the 1800s. One of the books stood out among the rest. A Stephen King Novel, Carrie, interested I grabbed the book and sat down on the couch and started to read. Before I could finish with the first page Tom opened the door causing me to almost fall off the couch.
"Sorry." He said awkwardly. Then what almost happened last night hit me. I watched him as he brought in some more food.
"I thought," He began, breaking the silence. "I should get more food from the um… secret basement." He said uncomfortably.
"Good idea." I said softly, getting up from the couch.
"So… sleep well?" He questioned.
I nodded. "Yeah, you can have the bed tonight." I offered.
He shook his head in disagreement. "No it's fine. The couch is fine." He said turning away as he put the food on the one and only counter.
"Are you sure?" I questioned.
"Yeah." He answered simply. "Are you hungry?" He asked me.
In response my stomach growled and I laughed despite myself. "I guess so."
For some reason that seemed to break the tension and Tommy turned to smile at me. "So uncooked pop-tarts sound good?"
I smiled. "Sounds great."
After we ate we sat across the table looking each other. "So what happened three years ago?" I asked him, breaking the silence.
He looked up at me somewhat surprised. "You heard?" He questioned.
I nodded.
"A lot happened three years ago." He said softly.
I studied him, seeing how his shoulders slumped slightly and how he no longer could meet my eyes. "You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to."
"No I want to tell you." He said raising his eyes to meet mine. "I'm just not sure you want to hear it."
"I want to." I said honestly.
"Three years ago," He began. "I made some bad decisions." He said finished. "I had been working in the business about a year by then and I had seen some bad stuff but nothing compared to what I had seen that day. We had to kidnap a young girl. Her name was Julie and she was either seven or eight, I can't remember." He shrugged sadly. "I don't even remember why we had to kidnap her, it was better not to know." He said softly. "She was a beautiful girl. Dark brown natural curly hair and the biggest green eyes, I mean they were the definition of green." He said with a soft laugh. "She trusted us." He was silent for a moment. "I mean she honestly trusted us. She was so innocent." I saw tears enter his eyes. "I mean her skin was so pure an untouched, not by the sun, not by anything." He started smiling at a memory. "She use to call David, Mr. Boss Man and in away we all sort of loved her." A stray tear fell down her face and he didn't bother wiping it away. "She wasn't supposed to get hurt, she wasn't supposed to die." He covered his mouth with his knuckle, trying to contain his feelings.
"Tom." I said softly, causing him to get back on track.
"His name was Philip." He said gravely. "He wasn't a good person, everyone knew it." He said looking out the window. "The way he would touch her, the way he would look at her…" He trailed off, shutting his eyes. "She was the closest thing I had to daughter I guess you could say." He said softly.
"Did he…?" I questioned.
Tom cut me off. "Yeah." His voice came out weak and hollow. "I walked in on him coming up the stairs and all he said was 'She's a good fuck'." I saw Tom shudder. "She was lying on the ground, her skirt was across the room and blood was all over her." He began to cry and it took him a few minutes to get himself together. "She was dying." He said weakly. "I don't even know what she must have been thinking, what he must have done." He looked away and I felt tears come down my face. "I went to help her and she pulled away." Tom covered his mouth to contain his hollow cries. "She was afraid of me; she thought I was like him." He was silent for a moment, his body shaking from the pain inside him. "The last thing she said to me was 'please don't'." Tom took in a deep breath and he uneasily exhaled. "She died; she had lost so much blood."
I felt myself become sick. "It's not your fault."
Tom shook his head. "She trusted me." He said softly. "She trusted me to protect her and I didn't."
"Tom." I began.
"After that happened," He continued, barely noticing me. "I completely lost it." He said shaking his head. "Philip and his brother were the only one's here; David and the rest of the guys were seeing the head boss." He explained. "The only person Philip cared about was his brother. His name was Marc, he was a better person then Philip, and he was kind of quiet. I don't know why he worked here." He shrugged weakly. "I wanted Philip to suffer so I tied him up and tortured Marc in front of him." Tom coughed to smother a cry. "I mean I tortured this kid, he must have been 15, 16. I don't know." His face became wet by his tears. "I still hear the way Marc begged me to stop, how his cries became more and more painful but Philip didn't show any emotion and I wanted to see his pain. I ended up killing Marc." He shook his head. "If Philip cared, I couldn't tell." He was silent for a moment. "I was just as bad as Philip. I tortured and killed an innocent kid." He began to shake involuntarily. "I don't even know why I went after Marc."
"What happened to Philip?" I asked him.
Tom shook his head. "I killed him, shot him." He shook his head. "I should have tortured him, not Marc." He was silent for a moment. "I'm a murderer." His voice came out weak and hoarse.
I was silent.
"I'm an awful person, Jude." He said softly.
"You're not," I began desperately.
"Jude, don't trust me, please don't trust me." He said softly, as two tears came slowly down his face.
