Elizabeth lay on her stomach on the bed and flipped through the pages of her photo album. The room was illuminated in a dull yellow light, the sun had gone down about a half hour ago. There was a buzzing sound from the fan overhead that circulated the night air around the room.
Thomas had it. Her album. She knew he had it. There was no way he didn't at one point have her suitcase. When he started giving her gifts from the family's other victims it gave her hope to see her album one day. Then there came a moment when she realized that she'd probably never see it again. Was it the third or fourth gift? She wasn't sure. But hoping to see the album had started to become too much for her and she forced herself to abandon that hope.
She'd been doing a lot of that recently. Abandoning hope. Allowing herself to become more of a shell of who she once was.
She ran her fingers along the hard cover, reassuring herself for the umpteenth time she actually held it in her hands.
Of all the items that she had in her suitcase, her album was what she desired the most. She could live without her clothes, jewelry and other items she'd kept that did have sentimental value. Would have been nice to get them back as well, especially another item in particular. But it was the album that held the precious photographic memories of her past. Memories that she knew would eventually become fuzzy and fade away.
She turned the album to look at the creases on the spine. It'd been new when she got it. She hadn't broken it in. Clearly, Thomas had opened it and looked at the pictures multiple times. And yet, not a single one was missing. It still surprised her. She kept having to open and close the album to check. She had to be losing her mind. There was no way he'd leave every picture in there unmarked and unchanged.
Thomas couldn't disguise his fear, jealousy, and anxiety any time a man entered the store while she was working. There had been a couple of times that he had not so subtly ushered her to the backroom. There was only so much she could do to reassure him. And, although the pictures in the album were of her, her brother or both of them, there were a few that included her high school friends. Even a couple with her and another guy. Yet, Thomas hadn't removed those. They were all still there. It wasn't her imagination.
It felt surreal, holding the album in her hands.
She raised her gaze and looked around. She was alone in their room. They'd returned a couple hours ago. Yet, to her surprise, she hadn't seen anyone in the family. Not that she tried looking for them.
She gulped, forcing down the butterflies in her stomach to calm down. She had thought she was going to see them at dinner. Expected to see them then. See Hoyt.
Her skin crawled.
The moment they're returned from the cabin Elizabeth had gone directly to their room. She had tried to stash her album in the cabin for safe keeping. But, Thomas refused to leave till she had it back in her hands. She had spent the entire short walk back thinking and planning on where she could hide her album so it wouldn't be discovered.
The house did had a lot of old, useless furniture that the Hewitts kept around. Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be anywhere in her room or the bathroom that she could successfully hide her album in. She had started to grow frustrated and scared, not wanting to leave it in the room but also not wanting the family to see her have it. It was her strength and yet her greatest weakness.
To her great relief, she didn't have to go downstairs for dinner. Thomas had brought up a tray of food for her. The two of them ended up eating in silence. When they were done, she had expected Thomas to usher her downstairs to at least wash the dishes. But he didn't. He took the tray of empty dishes without prompt and took it back downstairs for them. He hadn't returned yet, but she did hear the clanking of the dishes being washed a little bit ago.
Her heart thumped in her chest at the thought of seeing any other member of his family. It was going to happen soon enough, she knew that. But, she was glad that she didn't have to see them yet. It would have been nice if the cabin was actually livable. Unfortunately, there was a lot of work that needed to be done.
Setting her feet on the ground, she stood up. The floorboards creaked from her weight and with each step that she took as she walked to the window. Her eyes searched for the small path they'd taken to get to that cabin. She couldn't see it in the darkness, but she knew the path was there.
They had spent a good portion of the day at the cabin. Time ended up flying by much faster than she realized. Then again, after Thomas called her "wife" she'd been left in a somewhat dazed state. She vaguely remembered eating lunch and she knew they had explored the premises together.
It offered her hope. Hope for a better future. Hope for somewhere to escape so she wouldn't be under the constant eyes of his family. It was far enough out that she couldn't see it from the Hewitt house, but still close enough to walk to make it to dinner every night if that's what Thomas wanted.
It's still inside Hewitt land, she reminded herself.
It was his safe place after all. His haven. The world out there wouldn't accept him for the way he was. Hell, even if he wasn't a cannibal she knew that the world was unkind to those who looked different, who acted differently. He wasn't social. He didn't know how to be, thanks to his upbringing. Not that the locals helped in that matter either.
It wasn't just Handsome Jack and his group who poked at Thomas, verbally assaulting him knowing he was nearby. Even some older folks, who should have known better, managed to sneak in words here and there, calling him stupid and ugly. There had been a couple of local farmers who expressed surprise that she managed to work so calmly and unafraid around Thomas. They didn't know. They didn't know he was a murderer. A cannibal. How Thomas managed to keep calm and not get violent with them was beyond her. She knew what Thomas was capable of. It surprised her that the townsfolk had no clue how dangerous Thomas could really be.
She tapped on the window. He was a different person out there. Almost, helpless. But here, this was very much his safe spot. His home. In the Hewitt land he could be himself, knowing his family would accept him. His family would love him. He didn't have to worry about being stared at or called a freak "behind his back" yet loud enough for him to hear. He didn't have to worry about being made fun of. Or about as if he didn't exist.
Safe.
He was safe here, but she wasn't.
Her skin prickled with unease and she brought her album up to her chest to hug it.
It was a problem. Giving her back the album was a grand gesture, much like when he randomly proposed to her, clearly without his family's consent or knowledge. But, even though she had hoped things would change, they really hadn't. In fact, she almost felt as if his proposing made things worse for her. Would Hoyt had raped her?
Probably.
A wave of frustration rushed through her, making her clench her fists. His family tried to destroy her. Despite how hard she tried to get them to accept her. Trust her. Despite the fact that she was willing to look past the whole being a cannibal and them kidnapping her. Look past the fact that she was most likely eating human flesh as well because they weren't going to give her special food. They were originally keeping her against her will.
God, she felt messed up. But, it didn't matter in the end how much she adapted and tried to win them over. They tried to destroy her relationship with him. And it almost worked. It would have worked. She'd given up hope. Given up entirely, in fact. She was ready to just lie there and take it. Ready to mentally check out because she was exhausted. But, he had decided she meant more to him than even she realized.
"Wife." His strained but determined voice echoed in her mind
She gulped as butterflies filled her stomach at the word. He'd clearly worked hard to get the one word out. His wife. He could have called her that at home. Here in the Hewitt house. Could have done that in front of his family. And, maybe he should have. But, it held more meaning to her the way he did it. He took her out to the old cabin, clearly showing his intent on fixing it up for them to live in. Away from his family. Privacy for them. He gave her the album. His focus was completely on her and her comfort. And all that gave her hope.
Her breathing deepened at the feeling. But, was this another grand gesture that would only be torn away from her?
Her fingers tightened around the album.
There was an internal struggle inside of her. It had gotten worse the moment they got back to the Hewitt house. She'd allowed herself to relax while at the cabin. Allowed herself to believe that things could get better. Gave herself hope. But, when they got back to the Hewitt house memories and reality set in. His family didn't want her to see herself as anything other than a babymaker.
Dropping one hand, she curled her fingers into a fist as she stared out into the darkness. She felt angry with herself for being so weak. For not being the strong young woman who didn't give a shit about what others thought. For not fighting back like she probably would have had her brother been alive. Her nails dug into her palm, shooting pain through her arm, but she didn't care
A whimper followed by his rough calloused hand touching her arm caused her to jump slightly. For such a large man, Thomas was incredibly quiet when he wanted to be. She tilted her head back to look at him. His eyes focused on her clenched hand. He ran his hand along her arm then gently pushed his fingers into hers, causing her to unclench her fist.
Her protector, even from herself. As long as he was around she was safe.
She closed her eyes and leaned into his body, enjoying his presence. Her emotions battled with each other as her brain refused to settle down into any set feeling. She was angry at herself for listening to the family, and letting them bring her down as low as she'd gotten. Happy that Thomas did care about her. Ecstatic that he defended her, got revenge for her. And yet scared of what possible repercussions were to be had once things settled down again. Nothing would happen to Thomas. It would be her, in the end, who would receive the punishment.
She let out a deep sigh as her heart dropped.
He was doing his best. She knew that. Doing his best to let her know that she was safe with him. But, wasn't he doing his best before? And his uncle still raped her.
With a soft squeeze of his fingers, she turned to face him. She pulled her hand out from his and allowed her fingers to roam his forearms. His skin was rough and warm. He was so large in every way compared to her. It wouldn't take much effort from his part to truly hurt her. So big and still he tried to be gentle with her. He always tried to be gentle with her, in his own way. The day after Hoyt raped her Thomas knew something was wrong. And when he had sex with her he tried to be sweet and loving. He didn't know. She thought he knew but he didn't. His concern, his confusion, his desperation the last couple days now made sense. He'd been clueless because his family didn't tell him. They didn't want to, because they were afraid of how he'd react?
"Thomas," she said.
His held his finger up, making her pause. Turning, he walked to the door and grabbed her suitcase. Her body froze as he set it on the bed and then opened it. From her position it looked as if everything was still safely stored inside.
Feeling a bit dazed, she slowly walked to the bed and sat down. Maybe she was dreaming. Or possibly dead. What if Hoyt had raped her and then killed her and this was all some sort of weird dream as she lay dying on the dirt road?
Her fingers tentatively ran over the rough fabric suitcase and then over her clothes. It felt real. Just like the album in her left hand. Too real. Her muscles tensed as desperation gripped her. She didn't think. Her hands grabbed at the clothing as she threw each piece out, letting them fall onto the floor.
Thomas let out a worried grunt and placed his hand on her shoulder.
"It's still here," she said, shrugging him off.
She leaned forward and wrapped her right hand around the stuffed animal. Bringing it to her chest, she hugged it. She had it. Her heartbeat quickened with excitement and joy. Turning, she tilted her head up and smiled widely at him. She couldn't help it. She wanted to dance and shout and laugh hysterically with joy. She managed to suppress the laughter into just a giggle as she held out the animal.
"Scooby Doo," she said.
Thomas frowned.
"Oh! You've never seen it, probably? Huh? It's a cartoon. My brother's favorite. We used to watch it a lot. About a group of teens driving around the country and solving mysteries with their pet dog. He wanted a dog, but we couldn't have one. Well, I was worried with his sensitive skin that it wouldn't be good for him. And I didn't want him to get attached to an animal only to have to give it away. So, I got him this stuffed animal."
Before Thomas could react, she got off the bed and slammed into him. Wrapping her arms tightly around his chest, she hugged him. Her heart swelled with gratitude that he'd kept her things. He hadn't thrown them away or trashed them like she thought. She felt his arms wrap around her to keep her close to him as he hugged her back.
"Thank you," she whispered, giving him a big squeeze. She held onto him for one more moment and then let him go and leaned back.
His right hand moved up to stroke her cheek. There was some solace in the fact that he cared deeply for her. Not just deeply. He loved her. And not just because she could have his babies, he still thought of her as more than that. Maybe he always did. He just didn't know how to express himself in the proper way. And Hoyt had, from the beginning, done his best to sabotage Thomas. Done his best to break her by using Thomas. Her memory brought up the conversation she happened to overhear that Hoyt had been giving Thomas pointers on what to do when he had sex. Things that had traumatized her more. Thomas had listened because he didn't know any better. But, their sex life improved when Thomas started to listen to her.
That's right! He did listen to her. And, he didn't know what Hoyt had done. That was what really mattered the most to her. She thought he condoned Hoyt's actions and it had devastated her.
She rose onto her tiptoes to lightly kiss his lips. He kissed her back. It was short, sweet and simple. No demand for anything more or to push things further. Settling back onto her feet, she let out a content sigh.
"Thank you," she whispered again.
His rough hand caressed her face before he leaned in to give her another kiss. And then, he let her go.
She watched him for a moment as he started getting ready for bed. That felt like a good idea. A wave of exhaustion suddenly hit her. She hadn't been able to sleep much the last few nights. It apparently had finally caught up to her.
She picked up her clothes from the ground and set them back into the suitcase. Zipping it up, she went to pull it off the bed, but Thomas stopped her. He took the suitcase and set it in their closet. Safe, for now.
Her fingers tightened their grip on the album and stuffed animal. Honestly, she could lose the suitcase. The two most important items had been returned to her.
She crawled onto the bed and settled on her side. Laying down, she brought the album and stuffed animal to her chest. Just as quickly as her happiness and joy at have them came, doubt and fear gripped at her.
Hope. Did she really want to do it? Give hope one last chance?
The bed creaked with Thomas's added weight. He leaned down and untied his shoes. He winced slightly and gave his left hand a quick glance before returning to his task.
Flashes of his bleeding hands from the night before entered her mind. He'd beaten up Hoyt for her. He was angry for her. She had no idea what state the old man was in. Even now that they were home, she hadn't heard the old man. He was still alive, no doubt about that. But, judging from the state of Thomas's knuckles, there was no way he wasn't sporting some significant bruises.
"You ain't family."
She sat up. A small smile crossed her lips at the thought of seeing a swollen-face Hoyt. Black and blue. Broken teeth? Broken nose? Probably for the first time in his life, Thomas turned against his family. And it was all because of her. Hoyt was wrong.
"Wife." Thomas had looked so desperate and yet determined to get the single word out.
Setting her album and the stuffed animal on her lap, she reached out and brushed her fingers along his shoulder.
He turned to look at her.
"My parents won't approve of you," she said.
Thomas jerked up at her words, clearly startled. His eyes moved away from hers as he stared at the wall before he nodded his head. He let out a sigh and looked away and unbuttoned his shirt.
"I guess we have that in common," she continued, stroking his shoulder. Her eyes slowly roamed his body. "My parents would never approve of you. Your family clearly think I'm." She had to pause and swallow back her sudden tears. "Think I'm just good for one thing."
Thomas paused what he was doing and turned his body to look at her. He shook his head in disagreement as he leaned. His arm wrapped around her middle and he pulled her over to sit on his lap.
"Sorry," she whispered and sniffled. "I didn't mean to start crying." She wrapped one arm around him to hug him and kissed his cheek. He felt so warm and strong, holding onto her. Letting her relax against his body. Safe.
She closed her eyes and listened to his steady heart beat and deep breathing.
Okay, Thomas. Okay. Just one last time, she thought. He needed to know.
It took her a moment to gain the strength and courage to talk. But, finally, she forced herself to lean back and wiped her eyes.
"Thomas," she said softly.
He leaned in and kissed her cheek. His eyes held a softness to them. A softness few people saw. She let out a sigh and pushed his arm away, getting off his lap. The words she planned on saying were important and she needed him to know she was serious.
"I don't," she paused and stared at the wall. Butterflies filled her stomach from her nerves. With a sigh, she shook her head. She had to tell him.
She looked down at her hands that held the album and stuffed animal still. As much as she didn't want to, she set them on her side of the bed and let them go.
Settling herself on the edge of the bed beside him, she reached out and grabbed his left hand. He jerked back the moment she turned his hand to look at his palm. She quickly tightened her grip on his hand as he tried to pull it away from her.
"I need to see," she said, not looking up at him.
He closed his fingers then slowly relaxed them and revealed his palm. There were two small cuts, short in height, but long in length and deep. Hoyt's name tag. It had to have been. From the location she could imagine the scene. She could see Thomas gripping onto Hoyt's shirt so tightly that the name tag dug into his skin, piercing it. But, Thomas was so mad that he clearly ignored the pain.
Taking in a deep breath, she forced herself to look into his eyes. "I've gone through a lot over the last few months. And I'm not sure how I managed to keep myself together. Keep myself sane. Keep myself." She let his hand go to press hers to her heart. Oddly enough, calm settled over her as she prepared herself to say her next set of words.
"I wanna relax. I wanna be carefree. I… I don't think I can handle any more trauma right now. I'm telling you this because I can feel it in my head. I have nothing left inside of me to cope with anything else. If… if something happens." Her throat dried up and she fought the tears back. She felt as if she were giving up. "You won't get me back," she stated.
Thomas's eyes widened and he grabbed her hand, placing it against his heart, he shook his head.
"Wife," he whined.
She scooted closer and nodded in agreement. "Yes, but."
He shook his head.
"Thomas," she said with a sigh. "I'm sorry. I… I'm going to trust you." Trust. She gulped at the word. "But I can feel it. Deep down in my soul. This is it," she firmly said. "If you break my trust, nothing you say or do will be able to fix me. Do you understand?"
Thomas held her gaze then nodded his head. He leaned in then hesitated. She waited for him to kiss her lips again, only he moved closer and then pressed his forehead against hers. His hands touched her arms as he gently stroked her before he kissed her forehead. With another nod of understanding, he pulled away. He got off the bed to finish undressing. She turned her back to him and settled back onto her side of the bed and brought the album and stuffed animal to her chest.
Her eyes slowly roamed the old wall again as she thought.
She wasn't a quitter, had always a fighter, but she could feel it. She was at the end of her rope, at least for now. What she needed was time. Rest. Calm. Hopefully, that would help her regain her mental strength back.
The bed groaned and dipped with his weight again. She closed her eyes then gasped. His arm wrapped around her and pulled her back to him to rest against his side. Her heartbeat picked up with a hint of fear as she waited for him to start to fondle her. He'd given her back her items and she was clearly grateful. He probably figured sex was on the table again.
She stared at the wall and waited. She wasn't going to fight him, despite the fact that she wasn't ready to have sex. Still, her body remained tense as she waited. She couldn't look at him. His fingers gently stroked her arm. One particular deep sigh made her frown.
He'd fallen asleep? She waited a few more minutes and listened to his deep breathing. Feeling a little bit confused, she turned to face him and tilted her head up. His face was turned away in the direction of the door. But his eyes were closed. His chest moved with deep, steady breaths.
He had fallen asleep with his arm wrapped around her. He wanted her to feel safe and protected. Carefully, she set the album beside her and the stuff animal on top before settling against Thomas.
"I love you, Thomas," she whispered, pressing her fingers against his bare chest a little. "I don't know why, but I do." Placing her head against his shoulder, she snuggled up to him. "Please don't betray me. That will break me."
