Chapter Forty - ROOK
"You wanna hear a tragic story?" I ask Ronin, feeling ready to talk about it. "Because I really do have one."
He leans forward and kisses me on the top of my head, and then pulls me back into his chest. "Tell me, Rook."
"Well, one thing before I tell you, I just want you to know that I'm OK now." I wait to see if he has anything to add but I can tell he's just going to let me talk it out. "It's over, I'm gone, and I'm never going back. So, I'm not looking for anyone to go back and get him for me, or take pity on me, or any of that. But if I act a little distant or I make decisions that maybe don't fit with how you think, well, just know that I have my reasons. OK?"
He nods beneath me and I take a deep breath.
"Last year I was pregnant but I had a miscarriage. My ex caused it actually, and as terrible as this sounds, it was a blessing because not only did it prevent an innocent child from being born into a family of abuse, but I also got one of those implant birth control things while I was in the hospital." I pull the blanket away and rub my finger along my fleshy upper arm. "I knew what a baby with Jon meant and it wasn't an extension of our love or a chance to create something beautiful." I look up at Ronin. "It meant eternal captivity. He kept me locked in a prison—not the kind with bars and locks, but the kind that takes over your mind and holds you hostage. So I got the secret birth control implant because that was his plan. Get me pregnant and then use that baby against me for the rest of my life and hold me like a prisoner."
"Rook, I'm so sorry." He pushes some hair out of my eyes and kisses my head again.
I take a deep breath and continue. "I kept it secret for a while but one night while we were having sex, his hand was gripping my upper arm and he felt the little matchstick-sized implant. And he beat the living shit out of me. Pulled me up off the bed by my hair, slammed me down onto the ground, kicked me in the back so hard I thought I was paralyzed. Except I could feel the pain radiating up and down my spine, so I knew I wasn't paralyzed. I don't even know how many times he punched me in the face, I only know that both of my eyes were swollen shut long before he was done.
"When I didn't get up, he carried me to the shower, dropped me in the tub and turned the cold water on to wash away the blood. I could only lie there, motionless, or at least trying not to move because of the shooting pain going up my back. The water turned a dirty red color from all the blood spilling out of my nose.
"Usually, I never looked at myself afterward, but the next day I made myself. My face was unrecognizable—just swollen and—well, not me. And that's when I knew. If I stayed here with this man, he'd kill me. I'd be giving up my life if I stayed."
Ronin hugs me tighter and whispers into my neck, "And you left on a bus, all alone."
I nod. "After I was healed I left on a bus and ended up in Denver. It took exactly thirty-one days for my face to go back to the way it was. I wasn't working at that point, he made me quit my job long before then. So no one even knew. I had no family, I had no friends, I couldn't even ask a neighbor for help because we lived out on some land his family had. There was just this dumpy house in the middle of nowhere.
"But he gave me money every week so I could go shopping, before that beating anyway. And for three years I'd been planning for the day I'd have to leave because even though before that last incident I was too scared to really do anything about it, I knew that one day I'd have no choice. I knew that eventually he'd kill me. So I saved a few dollars from that allowance money he gave me when I could get away with it. Sometimes he checked my receipts and he kept a running inventory of all the food in the house, so it was very difficult to get enough to even buy that bus ticket, let alone a bit of money to get me through once I got away. He checked the mileage to make sure I never went anywhere in the car and he logged keystrokes on the computer to make sure I wasn't using it while he was gone. So I couldn't talk to guys or some stupid shit like that."
"He controlled everything."
"Yeah," I say. "He owned me." I turn around now so I can see Ronin as I talk. "And that's why I need this, Ronin. I need this, or I swear I wouldn't do it. You have to believe me. I don't want to do drugs, or stop eating, or make modeling my career. I have my own dreams and I'm not ready to give up on them yet. I just want the money so I can make my own decisions. And maybe this contract with Spencer is a mistake. Maybe I'll regret it, but I don't think so, because Spencer Shrike was gentle and he makes art on nude bodies. It didn't feel… dirty."
"Like TRAGIC."
"Yeah, this contract is definitely dirty. I mean of course I'll finish what I need to do to get paid, but I'm not interested in this modeling stuff, Ronin, I'm not interested in the clothes, or the attention, or anything like that. I just want the money so I can move on."
Ronin lies back on the couch and pulls me down with him so that my cheek rests on his chest. I'm still naked under the robe, but I don't care. He feels good.
"So you don't trust anyone."
"Right," I breathe. "I mean, I'm pretty well-adjusted I think. When I was at the shelter I talked to some counselors. It was very difficult at first, but every day away from him I healed a little more. And I know I have issues and maybe I'm making all the wrong decisions right now. That's possible, I get it. But even if what I'm doing is all wrong, I still need to do it. I need to be in control, I need to have these choices and I need to make my own mistakes. It's the only way to really make things right with me."