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I follow them to the door, waiting, while Eli unlocks the door before flicking the lights on. The foyer lights up, and I step inside.

“Are you hungry?” Cyrus asks, but I shake my head, afraid I might throw up if I eat.

“I want to shower,” I say, looking around the house.

“I will grab you a towel. You want me to run you a bath?” Eli says.

I feel my heart rate spike, thumping erratically in my chest. I never want to have a bath again, the horror of what he did each time making my breathing hitch and lodge in my throat. I shake my head, unable to speak. Cyrus touches my back, and I jump, moving away from him.

“You okay?”

I nod, moving toward the stairs and climbing them to the bathroom. I turn the light on before stepping in and locking the door. Walking over to the basin, my hair is all matted, but my skin is clear of the harm he has caused it. Looking down, I am barely clothed—still in the lingerie he put me in, though now it is stained and ripped from running in the forest. I rip them off, hating the feel of them on my skin. My skin is stained with my blood, though the wounds heal thanks to Cyrus’s blood in my system.

I turn the shower on before hearing the door handle twist, making me look at the door. I hear one of them knock.

“Just leave it near the door,” I tell Cyrus, knowing he was meant to grab me a towel.

“Addie, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just leave the towel near the door, please,” I tell him before hearing him walk off.

When I am certain he is gone, I open the door, grabbing the towel before shutting the door and locking it.

I scrub my skin raw with the loofah before washing my hair. Yet no matter how hard I scrub my skin, I still feel filthy. Filthy from his touch. My skin feels like it is crawling with his essence, tainting me.

“Addie, I got you some clothes. I will leave them next to the door,” I hear Eli say from the other side of the door.

I hop out, wrapping a towel around myself before unlocking the door and cracking it open. Eli is standing there with some pajamas in his hands. I reach out to grab them, but he doesn’t let go.

“I get that you had a rough time with Sam, but please don’t shut us out,” he says.

Rough time? They think I had a rough time? None of this would have happened if they hadn’t interfered in my life.

I find his words insulting. Since when is being raped, held captive, beaten, and forced to play out some psycho’s fantasy just a rough time? That isn’t a rough time; that is torture.

I say nothing, just take the clothes from him and shut the door. I get dressed quickly, chucking the clothes on before wrapping my hair in the towel. When I am done, I chuck the thin scraps of fabric I was forced to wear in the bin beside the toilet. Walking out, I don’t see them but can hear them talking in their bedroom. I silently sneak down the hall before shutting myself in the spare bedroom and locking the door.

Chapter Forty

Adeline

It isn’t long before they knock on the door. I knew they would, yet I can’t face them. What I really want is my mom. Men have been nothing but a consequence to me, a constant pain. I don’t know if it is just my own humiliation over what happened or if I just need someone to blame, but right now, I just want to go home and pretend my life is still organized chaos—the way my life was before them. Back when I thought I had control. Now I have control of nothing, especially my life.

“Addie, please open the door,” I hear Cyrus sing out, but I ignore him, and after a while of him lingering by the door, he eventually gives up, realizing I just want to be on my own.

I eventually give in to exhaustion. Stepping out of a waking nightmare and into a sleeping one. Sam may no longer physically torment me, but I know without a doubt the memories will haunt me for life.

Waking, I am restless, and for a second, I expect to wake up in the small room in the cottage. It takes a few seconds for my surroundings to hit me. I am no longer there, no longer his prisoner, but now I am theirs. I just hope Cyrus will be true to his word and take me home. Getting up, I find my pillow drenched with the tears of my dreams. I am still exhausted, sleep offering little relief.

Standing up, I open the door to find Eli asleep on the floor next to my door. His head hangs down, and I tap his shoulder.

He jumps, looking up at me.

“Did you sleep here all night?” I ask him, feeling a little guilty.

He pushes off the floor, standing up.

“How do you feel?” he asks.