AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I turn my phone on as the plane lands at four p.m. I text Sev to let him know I’m here, but I’m assuming he’s already waiting. The reality of where I am isn’t sinking in yet. I feel like I’m watching someone do something stupid from outside myself. A girl with black hair and inked skin is walking back into a pit of snakes, but I can’t tell her not to go. She has to go through it; it’s the only way to reach the luscious green meadow on the other side.
My steps are robotic as we shuffle out of the narrow aisle and stale air. I don’t breathe any easier as I step into the airport of my home city. My skin is clammy, palms sweaty. The headache that started after takeoff is still pounding inside my skull, an intense ache I can’t escape. My stomach is full of bile, and I’m praying it doesn’t erupt while I’m on the escalator toward the exit.
A few hours in his chair is nothing, I tell myself over and over.
My phone has been vibrating continuously since I powered it on, but I don’t want to look at it until I’m ready to call Sev.
I know who it is, and if I hear his voice, I won’t be able to follow through with this. He’ll either understand and forgive me or he won’t. It’ll be better for him if he doesn’t, but selfishly, I want him to.
My steps halt briefly as a familiar black-and-chrome Harley-Davidson comes into view. A tall, inked form is leaning over the bars, parked in a loading-only zone. His sunglasses are perched on his forehead as he stares at me. He doesn’t speak as I approach, and I climb onto the seat without a word. He waits for me to wrap my arms around his waist before pulling out into the traffic.
The familiar ritual is second nature to my body, but my mind is screaming. I don’t want this, and I’m realizing, back then, I didn’t either. He used to pick me up at school like this for our sessions. The longer I’m away from him, the more the reality of how distorted everything was bleeds into my mind.
I’m only here for a couple of nights. We’ll finish the tattoo, take the photos the day after tomorrow, and be done. The muffler is roaring with loud pops as he pulls the bike into Hades’s Playground. I already know the owner of the shop and the other artists are gone for the day. Mondays were their early quitting days and the nights I always got inked by Sev.
I climb off the seat, legs stiff from the long ride. He leads me into the dimly lit studio, the crimson walls and black decor reminding me that this place really is hell. My body seizes up when I see his chair. The red leather is shiny, ready to stick to my skin as I pass in and out of consciousness.
All the panic attacks I’ve had over the last few months since I ran away seem to hit me like a ton of bricks, and I start to vomit, barely making it to the trash can. He watches me silently. I’m dry-heaving because I knew if I ate, it would take longer to pass out.
Why am I here? All the reasons that seemed completely logical before are so cloudy I can hardly remember them.
My body is shaking, the fear of the ritual getting to my nervous system.
He reaches out toward my arm, and I shrink away, crawling backward on the cold cement.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart? I thought you wanted this.” His eyes are black, holding me in place.
He’s terrifying, a nightmare come to life. I’ve had horrifying dreams almost every night since I ran away, re-creating this exact scenario. I pinch myself, trying to wake up.
It’s not real.
It’s not happening again. It can’t.
I can’t go through it again.
I chant it over and over in my mind.
The phantom pain is already vibrating through my skin, and I start to sweat. What’s he going to do to me when I pass out this time?
His body moves toward mine, reaching out to grab my arm. He jerks me up, pulling me closer. He presses his face against the side of mine, inhaling a lungful of me. My muscles are rigid, skin clammy. He’s shaking against me, and I know he’s been desperate for me to come back. I’m going to get sick again.
Then, the doorbell starts to ring. It rings and rings, over and over. Usually, it’s just a single bell ding, so someone must be repeatedly pressing it down. Sev slowly backs away from me, letting go of my arm.
He lifts a finger to carefully trace the shape of my lips, leaning forward to whisper, “Don’t go anywhere, angel.” I shiver at the familiar nickname. “You’ll never go anywhere again.”
The blood in my veins freezes at the threat, and I know he means it. Running away the first time was a temporary fix, but he’ll never really let me go. I’ll be his plaything as long as he wants.
I have to fight this now. I’ve never fought back to those who have used and abused me, but it’s time.
He exits the room to presumably bark at the disgruntled customer. I creep toward the door, peeking my head out to see if I can make a run for the back door. If I go that way, he’ll mostly likely be able to follow me down the alley on his bike. I know the streets well, but after I disappeared last time, he’ll be more likely to chase.
I decide to look for a weapon instead, searching through his studio for anything I can defend myself with. A memory from deep inside my mind surfaces as I stare at the red leather, and I move toward the seat, sliding my fingers under the edge. The hidden switch bubbles under my skin, and I push it over. The seat clicks up.
I lift it to see what I think I remember from a brief moment of consciousness. Shiny metal gleams in the fluorescents. I’ve never shot a gun, but the thought of aiming one at Sev gives me a tiny rush of excitement.
As I reach for the smallest one, a commotion sounds at the front of the shop. Someone is slammed into something, followed by a loud crash. I grab the gun, praying it’s loaded. I back all the way into the corner, my vibrating arms doing the best they can to hold it aimed toward the door.
I’ll kill him. I have to. I’d rather go to prison than ever let him touch me again. I grit my teeth, preparing for the inevitable.
