“I totally forgot she said that… How could I forget that? How could I have said the same thing and not remember that she fucking said that?” His voice caught in his throat in a horrified whisper.
With darkness all around her and only the sound of Victor’s ragged breathing, Elsa was left to imagine what the expression on his face was. The pain of what he had told her was closing in on her along with the silence and blackness. The weight of his admission crushed her and she could only imagine how he felt.
Suddenly, he ripped the blindfold off her eyes. Squinting from the light, her eyes came into quick focus on his face only inches from hers. The corners of his beautiful mouth tugged downward as he stared at her. His clear, green eyes had turned black and he had the same murderous and hateful look on his face as the man in the alley had.
Victor was gone and she feared he would never return.
As he knelt in front of her, she leaned as far back as the couch would permit to put distance between them.
“Look at it,” he hissed as he lifted his chin, baring the scar she had so often wondered about. “This is who I am; an abused piece of shit whose mother thought him unworthy of love; an insignificant animal whose father abandoned him…”
Elsa’s eyes filled with tears but she refused to let them fall. How could he say that about himself? Didn’t he see in himself what she saw? A brilliant man who sought justice against criminals? A man who, when his defenses were down, could be kind and gentle? A man who had defended her life?
“I know that look,” he growled when he looked into her eyes. “Pity. That’s what you feel for me, isn’t it?” his lips twisted into a ghastly frown. With the ball-gag still in place, she shook her head no. It wasn’t pity that she was feeling. It was regret for the childhood he was made to suffer through. It was sorrow that he never felt loved.
Most of all, she was fearful of what Mr. Black might do to her… but there was no pity in her heart. Never pity.
“Liar,” he stood and widened his stance as if ready to fight. Again, she shook her head, only more violently this time, trying to convince him. When he looked unconvinced and a deep vibration rumbled in his throat, she mumbled no as a ribbon of drool pooled out of her mouth.
“I don’t want your Goddamn pity. I don’t need your fucking compassion. All this bullshit…” he paced in front of her like a lion on the hunt, the anger visibly building within him. “Why did you make me tell you that?” his voice suddenly roared. “You just had to have your fucking information, didn’t you, you Goddamn bitch!”
Without warning, he lunged forward and before Elsa could process what was happening, his hand rose in the air as he backhanded her across her right cheek.
Elsa grunted and fell to her side. Too stunned to feel anything except shock, she righted herself to stare up at Mr. Black in bewildered silence, her eyes wide with fear and hurt. Heat slowly began to radiate down her jaw and a single tear escaped and rolled down her cheek.
Mr. Black retreated in an instant and Victor stumbled backwards until he fell to his knees. He crawled to her, gripped her by the shoulders and pulled her close as he eyed the damage, clearly horrified with his actions.
“Oh, Jesus…” he whispered as he grazed his fingertips over her face. “I… I didn’t…” he stammered and choked. “Elsa…”
All the color had drained from his face. Shaking his head, he bit his bottom lip so harshly a drop of blood surfaced on his lower lip.
Quickly, he removed her wrist cuffs, then gag. Sitting on his knees in front of her, he relaxed back onto his haunches and stared at her without speaking, as if waiting for her to respond, but she had nothing to say. He had struck her out of anger. Again. What was there to say? But the look on his face… eyes glassy, pained expression, eyebrows furrowed…. His expression was clearly decipherable this time – regretful. His eyes flicked from her eyes to her cheek to her mouth and back. Slowly his irises drifted to his own hands as they sat in his lap.
When he spoke, his husky voice trembled. “Get your things. The game is over. You’re free to leave.”
17: Refuge
Elsa’s senses were still dull from shock when she heard his dismissal. There was no way in hell it was ending. Not now. Not when she was finally breaking through. She was in control this time. She decided when and where and how much. She didn’t care about the pain settling in her jaw. She had suffered through worse. What he had done was irreprehensible, yes, but…
She bolted upright and fell to her knees in front of him, cutting him off.
“Don’t you dare fucking say that to me!” she shook him by his shoulders violently. “You don’t get to end this game! I say when this game is over! Do you hear me? I have a say in the rules, too, remember?” she yelled in his face.
Dazed, Victor’s eyes widened and a soft gasp left his parted mouth. “But I hurt you. I don’t want to do that again,” he stated even softer than before, his grief-stricken eyes roaming over her face.
Her panic dissipated and her body began to shiver at his look of genuine sincerity. “Then don’t.” Rising to her feet, she stood looking down at him intensely as he gazed back up at her, awaiting her instructions. “Say you’re sorry,” she stated firmly.
He blinked several times as if processing her statement. “I am sorry…”
“Tell me it won’t happen again,” she ordered.
With a slow shake of his head he clenched his fists and licked his lips. “I can’t…”
“Bullshit!” she barked at him when his eyes drifted to his hands again. Startled, his eyes darted back to hers. “You’re the one in charge here, Victor. You make the fucking rules. You. Not Mr. Black. Now tell me.”
Pensive silence.
Her body swayed. If he wouldn’t tell her what she needed to hear she couldn’t continue on… Perhaps he just needed some incentive. She hoped it worked because if he didn’t tell her that he would never lay another hand on her in anger, the game really was over.
“Unless you want me to leave, tell me, Victor,” she reiterated his name. “Or is that what you really want; for me to walk out that door forever and never look back?”
“No,” he croaked out, a look of sheer panic on his face.
Slowly his resolve began to resurface and his childlike look changed to that of the fierce man she knew. Pushing himself off the floor, he stood in front of her. His warm, gentle fingers swept her mussed hair away from her eyes and glided down the cheek he had savagely assaulted. When he spoke again, it was with certainty. “It won’t happen again, Elsa.”
Her brows knit together and her lips parted, but the words stuck in her throat. She needed more from him than just those words…
Without prompting, he gave her what she needed as he pulled her against his chest. “I promise.”
*
She led Victor into the kitchen to make him something to eat. It was the only thing she could think to do.
Victor slumped into a chair. “You’re beautiful,” his statement came out whispered several minutes later.
She paused just as she sliced into a bell pepper, stunned by the sheer emotion and sincerity of his declaration. “I never should’ve pointed Nathan in your direction.”
Elsa froze but was unable to meet his gaze. It was one of the rare times he had spoken Nathan’s name, and the hurt masked by bitterness was easily detectable.
“I never should have…” he gulped loudly. “He’s a lucky man,” a disgusted sigh, “He doesn’t deserve you.”