Handcuffed

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

It was terrifying.  But that wasn't a good enough description.  Rather, it was worse than the nights spent homeless - worse than my first night on my own after running away.  No sleep, no rest.  I couldn't calm down, no matter how hard I tried.  I couldn't keep my guard down, knowing that it was possible that Clare could come in and show me just how vulnerable I really was being with handcuffed to my bed. 

I stayed up all night.  But not just because I didn't want to go to sleep in case Clare came.  It had gotten to the point where I tried to go to sleep because I was tired of waiting, knowing it wouldn't do any good whether awake or asleep if she came.  When I tried, I couldn't.  My mind wouldn't stop racing, wouldn't light up about thoughts of the drugs my body was craving mostly.  The physical pain, the mental pain, the thoughts that I couldn't help coming to me. 

Yet, that was all I really know from the past hours during the night.  It was a little bit of a blur - which I figured was a good thing.  All I knew was that I couldn't fall asleep because my greatest fear filled me - and all along with the pain from withdrawal.  But it all blurred together.  It was vague which was the only good thing about it.

It didn't make me forgive Luke at all for it, however.  Nope.  When he first handcuffed me, I couldn't hide my scared side.  But after he left and up until now, I was filled with disturbing thoughts about how I wanted him to suffer like I just did.  I was angry.  So angry to the point where I was going to do something about it.  Being handcuffed to the headboard didn't give me many options.  But by the time the sun was up and I knew Luke was too, my anger decided on it's own what to do.  And I was ready when Luke cracked my door open first thing in the morning.

If he thinks he could do this to me then come in the next morning and unlock me so he could watch me again like he did yesterday, he was wrong. 

My eyes were already on the door before he opened it, hearing the floor slightly creek on the other side.  When he opened it and slowly came in, the pissed off scale in me went off the charts.  Not only did seeing him make me more upset, so did the details I noticed about him. 

Luke entering my room quietly, he met my eyes and stopped, eyes widening.  He was surprised to be seeing me sitting up and resting my back against the headboard.  Like I was for most of the night.  He probably found it a little creepy, seeing me sitting up like I was, eyes not only already glued to him, but just as droopy and and tired as his were in the past few days. 

Well, I shouldn't say 'past few days' when I noticed his eyes finding mine were still droopy and tired.  His facial expression was defeated in a way - which was cool with me.  The part that pissed me off was that I realized he didn't sleep well last night; he didn't get the rest that he needed.  He should have slept better, gotten well rested last night because that was his reason he handcuffed me here.  To go get some sleep.  Yet, I saw he got none if I had to guess from how he was looking now. 

So, with the need to be mad, in a way... he handcuffed me for nothing if he didn't get any fucking sleep!

It was my own fault too.  He probably would have slept well if I didn't explode in a rant last night about all my issues I had with him.  Luke left my room last night filled with a dead expression over pain after I said those harsh things to him.  Seeing him now, I saw that those words I said were still taking an effect as they had last night when he tried to sleep and couldn't. 

Dear God, what did I do to deserve to never get a break?!  I only do bad things when necessary!  It's not my fault my mother is your worst enemie's mistress.

His tired green eyes on mine, he just stood there, taking me in and my messy features of a night spent with eyes open.  I saw he didn't even change out of his clothes from last night.  He stood there in the same jeans and white muscle shirt.  But at least he has his own clothes.  I have been stuck with wearing Clare's shit (even though I admit, her clothes are more comfortable than my few that I had while living homeless).