Jennie POV
I looked at myself in the tainted bathroom mirror. Under my eyes, bags that had faded to purple told me that I wasn't getting enough rest - my lips were cracked and dry, and my skin was dusty and needed care. My hair, scraped back into a bun to keep it out of my way, was a mess. And yet, there was some thing in my eyes that I hadn't seen in a longtime. Resolve.
I drew myself up to my full height and smiled at myself in the mirror. It had been so long since I had smiled that I felt as though I was faking it, the muscles of my face tugging awkwardly to get it to stick. But I didn't have to convince myself. I just had to convince Kai, for long enough to get him out of here. And then I was going to make a break for it.
I had been here for almost a month. I had kept track of the days, hoping that the knowledge would keep me from going utterly out of my mind. Sometimes, it felt as though I was going to burst, my brain aching with the pain of knowing there was a whole life for me out there, a whole life that he insisted on keeping from me until I gave in to what he seemed to want from me.
Ever since the day I had dared speak back to him, that day he had sent pots and pans crashing around the kitchen to express his fury, things had only gotten worse. He hadn't laid a finger on me- I had warned him, told him that men who loved women did not harm them, and he seemed to have taken it to heart, thank god! But he had taken to damaging anything else in the apartment that he could get his hands on to scare me into submission. He had tipped the bed over, sent the mattress flying from the metal frame; he had slammed his fist into the hand mirror in the bathroom, sending shattered glass everywhere, including into his own knuckles. He had kicked a hole in the wall next to the door. With every day that passed, I knew my safety was growing less and less certain, that it would only be a matter of time before he snapped and turned his anger on me. And I had to use what little time I had to my advantage.
I was running out of time. I knew that he could only keep up the façade of himself being a decent man for a little longer before he broke and forced me to submit to his will. Hell, before I was rescued, I would already had given in, let him do what he wanted to me just to get it over with. He had trained me hard enough when I had worked for him to do as I was told with no exceptions, and certainly, no questions. But I had stepped out of his world, seen what was beyond it, that there was love and care and passion that grew organically instead of being exchanged for money per hour. And I wasn't going to walk away from that. Not yet.
My resolve grew strong as I lay in bed after one of his more violent outbursts, trying to avoid the spot in the bed frame where he had arched the metal such that it jabbed into my back as I tried to sleep. I had to get out of here. I had to try at least.
He rarely left the place, and whenever he did, he always came back very soon. Also, every time he went away, he would make sure to lock the doors tight behind him, so I had no hope of getting out. But his absence at least gave me the time I needed to check out the rest of the place. There were three windows - one in the living room, a tiny one in the bathroom, and one in the bedroom that he slept in, that led out onto a tiny balcony beyond.
We were high up in the building, so I could hardly leap down from there and onto the street. But recently I had spotted a small fire escape, one that looked as though it was on the brink of falling apart, a half-dozen feet from the balcony - it would be quite a jump, but I could make it if I tried. If I had the time to try. The window that led out onto the balcony was locked shut, where the rest of them were sealed tight with glue. It explained why the air felt like it was suffocating me in here, why sometimes I felt as though I was going to drown under the weight of it.
The lock was slim and flimsy, I knew that much. I headed out of the bathroom, where I had been noting the resolve in my eyes and promising myself that I was going to double my efforts and slipped into his bedroom. He was out for some food, and I didn't know how long I had before he made it back. This time he had taken much longer than usual. I tried to break the lock with my hands, but came out with nothing but welts on my palms for my efforts. I would need to find something stronger to snap it. I had no idea what I might use, and before I had a chance to look, Kai burst back into the house.
"Jennie?" he called and I dived from his room to mine, knowing that if he found me in here, he would take it as the come-on he was looking for. The thought of his hands on me made my stomach turn. To feel him touch me like that again, as though he owned some piece of my body and my soul, would end me. I couldn't let him do that. I couldn't let him do anything.
"In here!" I called back, trying to keep my voice bright. I knew that I needed to start convincing him that I was coming around to his twisted little game. That was the only chance I had of getting out. He loved me, or so he claimed, but he didn't trust me. And I had to find a way to build that trust, that sureness.
"Were you in my room?" he demanded, eyeing me suspiciously.
I shook my head.
"Of course not," I replied, my voice sounding saccharine-sweet to my ears, but he smiled.
"I missed you while I was away," he said and sat down on the edge of the bed. When he took my hand, I let him, even though I wanted nothing more than to whip it away from him and tell him off for daring to lay a hand on me. He stared down at our fingers, connected, and it appeared as he was waiting for me to pull back. I didn't.
"Jennie," he began again, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. I could tell another one of his speeches was coming. He kept on giving me these long-winded declarations of his love, of the ways he had changed, of the life he would give me. I knew they had more to do with him than they did with me. He just saw me as a conduit to prove what a good person he was, although he had done some of the most evil things I had ever known a human to do in my life.
"Jennie, I know that things have been hard with us," he told me, opening my palm and tracing his fingers over it in a gesture that he no doubt believed was the height of romance. I winced, glad that he was looking away be cause I couldn't keep the disgust at his touch off my face.
"But I know that we can build a beautiful life together," he continued. "I know that you can change me. You already have. I've never felt this way about someone before..."
I fought the urge to scream at him, to tell him that it wasn't my job to fucking change him, that he shouldn't rely on me to make him a good person, and that nothing he could do would pick apart the monstrousness of what he had already done to me. That he had broken me and that I wouldn't let him put me back together. But I didn't. The best I could do was stay silent and nod, hoping that my disdain for him wasn't coming off me in waves.
"I love you, baby," he murmured to me, and he leaned over to kiss me. I twisted my face at the last moment so he got my cheek, unable to yet handle his kiss on the mouth. The last person I had kissed was Lisa, and I felt as though I was preserving that kiss on my lips, the memory of it, and the joy of her embrace.
"Mmm..." I let out a little noise that I hoped could pass off for agreement. He smiled and got to his feet.
"Come with me," he ordered. "I brought some food from a very fancy restaurant. It was quite far away, but I thought it would cheer you up. You can set it down for me."
I looked up at him; still not able to understand that he really believed this as romance. I almost felt sorry for him. What kind of fucked-up world had he been raised in that he truly believed getting me to do chores for him was the height of some romantic seduction? He looked down at me, clear-eyed and sure, and I smiled back. The muscles felt like they were straining once more, but I didn't care. He seemed to believe anything that I gave him in the hopes that it meant I was finally giving in to him, and I wasn't going to argue with his interpretation.
I rose to my feet and followed him into the dingy kitchen - most of the pots and pans were bruised and dented from where he had used them to express his fury at some point over the last few weeks, but I pretended not to notice that and looked at the food he had brought with him.
I had never much learned how to cook; my mother had often suggested teaching me, but I had always assumed it was the kind of skill I would pick up somewhere down the line, once I was living by myself and had no choice but to learn how to cook. I felt a twist in my stomach as I thought about everything this man had taken from me, and suddenly, just like that, I had met my edge.
I would never have a normal life, not after what I had been through. And he had been the one to rip that from me, the one who would keep taking that from me, unless I took a stand right here and now. Every moment that I spent here with him, every second I let myself sink further into this life he was trying to make for us, it was another moment I couldn't go out into the world and be the per son I wanted to be, the person he had tried to keep from me. It wasn't just lisa he had stolen me from, it was myself, the woman that I knew was aching for a release. And that woman wasn't going to put up with this a second longer.
I closed the bags and turned back to him. My heart was pounding, and I could feel the fear ful panic rising in my throat, but I had to do it. He was sitting at the dining room table, looking up at me expectantly, his hands resting on his thighs. He was clenching them both, as though he was trying to contain something. And I knew he had to think of himself as a great and noble man for not grabbing me right there and then and forcing me to do what he wanted.
I sank into the seat next to him and looked him in the eyes, the eyes of the man who had stolen my entire life from me. Well, he wasn't going to get away with it. Not a chance.
"Kai," I began, and even his name felt filthy in my mouth. As soon as this was over, I wasn't going to say his name ever again. I was going to banish him from my mind, and he was going to rot without me.
"I know I have been difficult," I shook my head, lowering my gaze in what I hoped he would read as deference to him. "And I know that I have made it hard for you..."
"You have," he agreed at once, a spiked edge to his voice, as though he intended to hurt me.
"But I think I see now," I continued, ignoring his interruption. "I think I understand what you want from me."
"You do?" he perked up at once, his eyes brightening. He grabbed my hand, and I let it lay limply against his.
"I want to be with you," I told him, forcing the words out even though they felt dirty on my lips. "But I need you to make a promise to me."
"Anything," he assured me at once, and there was a triumphant look on his face, as though he couldn't believe this was really happening. How stupid was he, to believe that I would just give in to him like this? Did he really see this as atonement for what he had done to me for so long? I would never forgive him as long as I lived. But I just had to get through this, and then it would be over. For good.
"You've been with so many women," I continued. "I want you to show that you're committed to me."
"I'll do anything," he replied, tracing his eyes up and down my body in a way that made me feel ill. How many times had he taken me without my consent? How many times had he given me that look before he had done it?
"Anything?" I raised my eyebrows at him.
"Anything," he repeated, his voice full of certainty and something I could have mis taken for sincerity if I hadn't been looking too closely.
"I want a ring," I told him, looking deep into his eyes, trying to connect with the man beneath this monster. I felt a little twist of guilt - even though I hated him, he seemed to really want me, and I never liked having to indulge in this kind of manipulation, even if he was to tally deserving of it.
"A ring?" His eyes lit up, as though he had been expecting me to ask for something much worse than that. "What kind?"
"I don't care," I replied, a nip of impatience in my voice that I swiftly worked to quell. "I mean... anything you want. I trust you to pick out something perfect for me."
He smiled at me, and before I could stop him, he leaned forward and planted a kiss on my lips. Everything in me shuddered at the horror of his touch, and I forced myself not to pull back and shove him away. My mouth was hard and unyielding, but I was still letting him do this, letting him convince himself that the two of us were really a thing now.
He leaned back and eyed me for a moment, and there was an air of triumph to him, as though he had finally won at a game he had been playing for months.
"I knew you'd come around to me, love," he reached out to stroke my face, and I felt my entire body seize up at his touch. I forced myself to endure it, promising my mind that I would be out of here soon enough.
"I just need to see that you really mean the things you say," I replied, my voice sounding distant and removed, as though it was coming from someone else entirely. I hated the way the words sounded coming out of my mouth, but I had to do this. I had to get him out of here.
“I do," he widened his eyes at me. "I do, Jennie."
"I need that ring," I repeated myself firmly,
"Before I can trust you."
He sighed deeply, and a flash of irritation passed across his face. For a moment, I was sure he was going to lash out at me, finally tired of my attempts to get him to do what I wanted. But then he softened again and shook his head.
"I'll expect a reward for my efforts," he replied, his eyes trailing over my body suggestively. "I've missed having you so much, Jennie..."
"As soon as you're back," I promised him. "But I need to know you mean this."
"Fine," he got to his feet and went to collect his things. A rush of relief passed through me as I watched him preparing to leave, mixed with a panic that I was doing my best to keep down. If I couldn't get out of here while he was away, he would expect me to give my self to him once more. And the thought of his hands on my body, erasing and wiping clean the memory of Lisa, made my heart ache.
He planted one more kiss on my cheek before he left, and I sat there for a moment at the table, listening to his footsteps as they retreated down the stairs until they faded into nothingness. I got to my feet swiftly, testing the door to see if he might have left it unlocked by some miracle of chance, but it was firmly shut. I grimaced. So I had to go out of that window.
I scrabbled through the cutlery drawer, grabbing whatever I could that looked as though it might have enough tensile strength to pop the cheap metal lock off the window. I found a couple of things - a wooden spoon, a knife, a spatula - and I headed through to the bedroom, armed with my findings, and went to make my escape attempt.
My heart was racing, and my hands were shaking as I slid the wooden spoon under the loop of the lock and pried it backwards. If Kai walked in on me doing this, there would be no denying what my actual plan had been and I would pay for my attempt to get out of here. He would know I had been lying to him, and then what? How would he burn me for my mistruths? Would he see me as useless, now that he knew he couldn't trust me? And what did useless mean to a man like him? I knew what became of the girls he had run out of purpose for, and it was far from pretty.
I forced myself to push those eventualities out of my mind and pushed harder on the wooden spoon. I heard a click, and the loop of the lock popped up by a half-centimeter. My heart leapt, and I pulled the spook away and tried to pry the lock apart with my hands, but I couldn't get a grip under the metal. I let out a frustrated groan and reached for one of the smaller knives I'd brought through, try ing to press it into the tiny space between the loop that was holding the lock closed and the brassy metal of the lock itself.
It slipped out a couple of times, mostly thanks to my trembling fingers, but finally, it found purchase and I was able to pry the lock a little further open. I tossed the knife aside and went to work with the spoon once more, pressing the end to the windowsill to create more leverage. Suddenly, with a loud metal clang, the lock popped off, landing on the floor below me. My heart leapt. I had done it. But it was far from over yet.
The window had been shut for god knows how long, and it seemed as though it had all but sealed itself together as I went to push it open again. I had to slide two of the knives below the window to pry it open a crack, and then press down on them both at once, using what little strength I had left in my body to push it open. An inch of daylight, real air, streamed in, and I gasped with relief. My scrabbling fingers pushed it open further, all the while my ears pricked to the sound of Shekhar coming back and catching me in the act. Elation, fear, dread, relief - I couldn't keep my head straight. But I didn't have to. I just had to get out of here.
I forced the window open and grabbed one of the knives from the windowsill, tucking it into my trousers as I slipped out of the small space I had created. My foot got caught, the window sliding down suddenly and catching me off-guard, but I managed to wrench it free and drag myself out onto the tiny balcony below. It wobbled dangerously, and I knew it wouldn't hold out long, so I scrambled to the fire escape I had seen next to it.
As soon as I had tossed my leg over the edge of the balcony and on to the flimsy metal steps, I felt it shudder under my weight. This thing probably hadn't been used in years, and for good reason. I swallowed back my fear and started to climb down, going slow, reminding myself that I was out of there now and that he wouldn't be able to just drag me back in again without a fight. I wrapped my fingers around the knife in my pocket to confirm its presence. There was no way I was letting him pull me back there. I would cut off his hands, those hands that had touched me, before I let him do that.
I made my way down the steps as fast as I could, without them giving out entirely from beneath me, and I looked down at the street below, wondering where the hell I was. That would be another thing; I would have to find some way back to somebody who could keep me safe. What was to say that I wouldn't run into another bastard down on the street? The world apparently is filled with them! Focus, focus... I could think about that once I was actually down there. For the time being, the only thing that mattered was getting off these steps, and as far from the apartment as I possibly could.
I finally rounded the last set of what had seemed like endless stairs, and I dropped with a thud onto the pavement below. My heart was pounding so hard that I was sure it would burst out of my chest, and I glanced around fearfully, certain that I could sense Kai somewhere nearby. Maybe this had all been a test for me, and now that I had failed it, he would see no need to hold back on his cruelty.
And, as I flicked my eyes around the street, I saw him. And everything came to a grinding halt.
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Whose that?