Alexa
I quite literally had the worst hangover, having prolonged birthday shenanigans with Chloe last night. Instead of downing water when I arrived home, I imbibed cheap alcohol until the early hours. Apparently, I thought I was insusceptible to the after-effects of excessive drinking.
"Next," I grumbled, empty coffee cup and pen in hand. "Welcome to the Coffee House. What can I get you this morning?"
"Alexa." Gray tugged my apron. "It is two in the afternoon."
Through bloodshot eyes, I stared at the female customer. "Welcome to the Coffee House. What can I get you this evening?"
"Espresso." Her eyes darted between Gray and me. "Maybe you need one, too."
I gave her a toothy smile. "I think I'm still drunk."
"Alexa." Snatching the cardboard cup from my hand, he pointed to the staff only door. "Go to my office and swallow some paracetamol. You're making me feel tired."
I complied.
I rested on the tattered leather chair inside Grayson's office and drew the apron skirt over my face.
Why did I do this to myself?
Well, in my defence, senseless intoxication made sense after the serendipitous encounter with Liam Warren. I am not over him, not by a long shot. However, months apart eased the pain in my heart until last night happened.
Now, I had to miss him all over again.
The heart wants what the heart wants. Him.
"Alexa." Gray unveiled my face. "Are you crying?"
"No," I lied, wiping the single tear away. "I just have a sore head."
His backside perched on the desk. "They won't tell you fairy tales of how girls can be dangerous and still win. They will only tell you stories where girls are sweet and kind and reject all sin. I guess, to them, it's a terrifying thought, a red riding hood who knew exactly what she was doing when she invited the wild in."
I blinked at him. "That's quite philosophical."
"Nikita Gill," he confirmed. "I'm a self-proclaimed logophile." His worried eyes lingered on my face. "Who was he?"
"Aren't you astute?" It's a statement, not a question.
He beamed. "Ever so."
Ruffling the messy knot on my head, I lowered my feet to the ground. "Are you familiar with the name Liam Warren?"
His face turned three shades of pallid grey. "Why?"
The panic-stricken undercurrent in his voice was alarming. "Never mind."
"Alexa." Gripping my wrist, he leaned in closer. "Are you in trouble? You need to stay far away from that man, doll. He's not somebody you should align yourself with."
I was overwhelmed with possessiveness. "Do you know him personally, Gray?"
"I don't need to know Warren personally." His forehead furrowed. "Everybody knows what that savage is all about."
"Defaming someone based on rumours is wrong." His judgments peeved me. "Liam might have a reputation, but you don't know him the same way I do. He's more than nonsensical hearsay."
"Why are you defending him?" he asked, looking at me in a darker light. "Oh, I get it. He's the guy who broke your heart, huh?"
I pulled an ugly face. "Nobody broke my heart."
"You are worth so much more than some depraved criminal."
"Grayson", I know he's only trying to defend me—be a friend and offer unwanted yet friendly advice. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."
His curious gaze withstood for a minute. "Fine." Opening the desk drawer, he pulled out bottled water and passed it to me. "Get some H2o down you and help the new guy out front. I never thought I'd say this, but he is possibly the clumsiest employee to date."
"Which man?" I asked as we exited the office. "And who else are you referring to? Me?"
"You were the gawkiest before he came along." His hand dishevelled my hair. "Jace stayed on until three o'clock this morning to learn the fundamentals. He drops more than he pours."
I came to an abrupt stop, the blood draining from my body. "Did you say his name was Jace?"
"Yeah." Gray motioned to the cash register. "He came back last night and asked if I was hiring new staff. I'm not stumped for employees, but I couldn't say no. It's his eyes." His lips puckered. "They kill me."
Jace, tightening the apron knot behind his back, playfully bartered with a bodacious female customer, winning her over with his flirtatious smile and effortless magnetism.
"Help him finish up." Gray chucked the rag cloth and cleaning spray at me. "Then show him how to arrange the floor to ready it for the morning."
I needed to die.
"Mmhmm," I mumbled, unable to blink, breathe, think. "Yeah, I am not the best candidate for this."
"Why not?" He unlocked the till to add pound coins. "Alexa?"
Sneakily, I eyed the glorious man over Gray's shoulder. "Jace is intimidating."
"You boned Warren," he rudely chirped, and my jaw slackened. "Don't be telling me anything scares you after that monstrosity."
I wanted to kick him. "Fine," I spewed through clenched teeth. "I will help the dude."
Jace sensed my advance before I stumbled at his side. "Alexa," he said, smiling fondly. "I assumed it was your day off."
"I took a little break." My palms rubbed together. "So, you needed a job, huh?" I don't know where the inquisition came from, but I was curious. "You didn't mention anything then."
"Why would I?" He scowled. "You're not the manager—and we're not friends."
He had a valid point. "Gray said for us to clear the floor." Rounding the countertop, I passed him the spray. "It's pretty simple. I prefer busing tables than making coffee."
Over the next three hours, we organised the floor, arranging and clearing tables, spraying laminate menus with disinfectant and bickering over music preference.
Jace is an incredibly nice guy. His playfulness and cheeky banter helped me to forget recent predicaments. He's easy on the eye, too, which is a bonus.
The Coffee House closed at eight p.m.
I walked home alongside Gray and Jace. When Gray reached his apartment building, Jace offered to get me home. As much as I liked my new co-worker, I wasn't sure I trusted him enough to know my address. "I'm good," I said, lingering outside the London Underground.
Jace put his back to the wall, propping one foot behind him. "I don't bite, Alexa."
Heat soared to my cheeks. "Your suggestiveness says otherwise."
He dragged the titanium barbell between his teeth. "Fine." Ebbing away from me, he jerked his chin toward the tube station. "Get home safe. I'll see you tomorrow."
I thought about him the entire journey.
***
Loud clattering urged my tired eyes to creep open. Shrouded by all-encompassing darkness, I laid face down on the bed, listening to distant conversations and heavy footsteps.
Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I rolled onto my back. "Chloe?" Throwing my legs over the mattress, feet sinking into the carpet, I trudged down the hall. "Are you awake?" I knocked on her bedroom door before peering into the room. Her bed was immaculate, not a crease on the coverlet.
I walked into the living room, expecting to see her drinking alcohol with a guy she might've picked up at a bar, but again, nothing but eerie darkness—the front door thumped, and I flinched. "Chloe? Is that you?"
Nothing.
My heart wedged in my throat.
Blowing out a calming breath, I pattered across to the front door and stared through the peephole.
Will I be stupid like the girls in the movies that decide it's a good idea to unlock the front door and find Sweeney Todd on the other side?
Hands shaking, I turned the key, removed the safety chain and glimpsed into the all-concrete foyer.
Nothing.
I shut the front door and relocked it but only achieved three steps to the bedroom when it happened again.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
My body froze on the spot.
I am definitely going to be one of those girls in the movies because there is one hundred percent a psychotic killer knocking on the front door.
Rushing to the kitchen, I rummaged through the cutlery drawer and selected a steak knife. Fingers twitching on the wooden handle, I hold it tightly and, with bated breath, stare into the unlit hallway. I'd like to believe I am capable of using a weapon.
"Hello?" Once more, I creaked the door open and peered into the empty foyer.
Nothing.
What the hell?
Maybe those teens decided to play rat-a-tat-ginger on my door.
I almost retreated, then I noticed the small parcel on the welcome mat.
Tucking the parcel under my arm, I locked up, went to the bedroom and turned on the lamp. I tore through the tape, turned the box upside down and fetched the white envelope inside. Tapping the seal with my fingernails, I checked to see if there was an addressee first, and then polaroid prints fell onto my palm. It's a little girl. She's cowered in the corner of the basement, knees hiked to her chest, hair curtaining her face while she cried.
A gut-wrenching combination of nausea, devastation and anger replaced initial reservations. "Why?" I whispered into nothingness, examining image after image, pornographic keepsakes that belonged to a monster.
The final shot brought tears to my eyes. It's an eight-year-old little girl pleasuring a man.
My sweet Lexi.
I know my name is Alexa.
Chucking everything aside, I stumbled off the bed, hand clasped to my mouth as I dashed to the bathroom. My knees hit the tiled floor in time to empty my stomach. Sobbing through violent intervals of vomiting, I held onto the flush and tried to erase the images from my mind.
Wiping my lips, I turned on the cold tap, cupped water in my hands and doused my neck and face. I studied my reflection in the wall-mounted mirror, the sadness in my eyes evoking unpleasant memories.
I don't cry anymore.
He doesn't care, nobody cares.
Why did mummy forget about me?
Did my father love me?
No, daddy was never around.
Mummy was bleeding.
Why did the Monster lie?
Mummy didn't wake up.
She wasn't dreaming.
Red. Everything was red.
I am alone.
Always alone.
Nobody wants me.
Nobody loves me.
Everybody forgot about me.
No, my mother loved me.
I know she loved me.
Why hasn't she saved me?
Mummy wanted to save me.
Mummy died.
Red. She was red.
I remember when I found her.
I thought she was asleep.
I believed she was going to wake up.
I didn't get to say goodbye.
If I could have that moment again, I'd say goodbye.
I'd tell her I loved her and that I'm sorry she had to leave us.
I'd whisper a million promises in her ear.
I'd hold her hand and beg her to stay.
A woodlouse crawled past my bare feet, and I wondered where he planned to venture. I imagine he'll find a way outside of these four walls to locate summer. That's what I often envision. If I were able to leave this place, I'd run my hands through grass spears, feel the sun's warmth on my face, pick flowers and inhale their sweet fragrance.
I had hope when I had Kathy. Sure, we didn't sleep in the same room, and our visits were far and few, but those minutes together were treasured.
But I don't see Kathy anymore.
Kathy doesn't visit.
Kathy doesn't whisper in my ear.
Kathy stopped singing.
Kathy didn't care.
It's unbearable now.
"Are we friends, Kathy?" I used to ask, following her into the woodland, twigs snapping under our weight.
"We're sisters, silly." She dodged nestled boulders. "We're more than friends."
"Does that mean you love me?"
Kathy found my hand, lacing our fingers together. "Yes."
"Forever and ever?"
She kissed my cheek. "Forever and ever."
A tear fell down my cheek.
My sister forgot about me.
My sister broke her promise.
"Unë të dua," Monster hums, stroking my hair. "Lexi?"
I buried my face on the cold floor, pretending he couldn't see me.
He brushed my hair. "A me do ti, Lexi?"
"I don't understand you," I whined. "I don't know what you're saying."
He inhaled my hair.
I hate his touch.
I hate his scent.
I hate him.
"It means I love you." His hands smoothed down my arms. "Do you love me?"
"I know my name is Alexa," I whispered, smiling at the woodlouse burrowing beneath the skirting board. "My mummy named me Alexa."
"No." His fingers dug into my hip. "Your name is Lexi. And we don't talk about that woman."
"My mummy loves me."
"Your mother fucking hated you. It's me who loves you."
"She loves me," I screamed, bolting upright, hands to my ears. "You don't love me! You hurt me! You always hurt me!"
"I'm sorry, Lexi." His dark, evil eyes bore into mine. "It's unfair that I keep you here, but I can't lose you. When you're older, we can do this properly, okay? I'll let you out, and we'll be happy together."
My eyes shut.
His hand grazed my cheek.
"Please," I screamed. "I want to go home to see mummy. Please let me be free."
"You will not scream at me. You know I don't like it." He backhanded me in the cheek, and dark spots danced behind my eyes. "You never learn, Lexi. How many times must I punish you? Why can't you behave?"
"It hurts," I sobbed, holding my jaw. "Somewhere over the rainbow—"
"I try hard with you, little one, but you make it difficult for me." Wrapping my hair around his fist, he dragged me toward the basement steps. "How many times have I asked you not to sing that fucking song? You do it anyway. Don't raise your voice, Lexi. Yet you still yell at me."
Another sharp pain belted across my face. "Please." My legs thrashed against the steps. "I want to die." Death would be my only solace—my freedom. "I just want to die."
"Now, I am going to take you to my bedroom. I want to capture some pictures today. Can you do that for me? Be a good girl and listen."
"No. I don't want to go. I'll be good." My fingernails clawed his forearm. "I promise. I won't sing anymore. I promise—I never break my promise."
He dragged me down the hallway and unlocked his bedroom door. Tearing through my clothes, he flung me onto the bed, and I curled up into a ball.
I laid bare for him.
I felt sick—constantly sick.
I cried. I wish I didn't cry.
"Good girl."
He removed his clothes.
His belt buckle hit the floor.
His boots followed.
"Please don't hurt me." Tears burn my eyes. "I don't want to hurt anymore."
"You're older now, Lexi." He touched my arm with so much love and affection. It's like he wanted everything to be okay for me. "I think you are ready."
I know it's wrong.
Touching me is wrong.
Forcing me to touch him is wrong.
"Are you ready?"
I swallowed scorching bile down my throat. I can't believe this day has come. He's talked me through it on many occasions—that it'll be him claiming my virtue.
I didn't know what that meant until he sat me down and explained what would happen between us.
I'm terrified.
He has tried in the past but was unsuccessful. I don't know why. I passed out on both attempts.
It's my fault, he'd said.
You're undeveloped, he'd told me.
Flash. Flash. Flash.
I blinked rapidly from sporadic lights as he captured photos.
Leaning over the bed, I dry heaved until vomit splattered on the floor.
He slapped my backside. "Well, that's disappointing, Lexi. I wanted to watch your face, but I can't be inhaling all that vomit on your breath, now, can I?"
My shoulders sagged in relief.
And then, it happened.
He pinned my face to the mattress.
His body rested atop mine.
He doesn't hold back.
The pain.
The burning.
The force.
The roughness.
I feel dirty.
I feel disgusted.
I want to be free.
I want to die.
And then I see the painting on the wall.
He kept my painting.
My eyes closed.
"Alexa." Mother added clothes to the washing line. "I hope you're not down that hill."
How does she know?
"I never did it, mummy," I lied, separating two flowing sheets to look at her.
My mother smiled at me, her lustrous dark hair blowing in the wind. "You didn't visit the forest."
There was an accusation in her calm tone. "I don't know."
Kneeling in front of me, she slipped hair behind my ears. "Are you sad?"
"I don't want you to be mad at me."
"Why would I be mad?"
"Because I didn't listen to you."
"Baby." She pushed the sunglasses to the top of her head. "Do you know why mummy tells you to stay where she can see you?"
My head shook.
"So that I can protect you." She kissed my forehead. "How can I look after my little girl if she insists on hiding from me?"
I hugged her. I wanted the hug to last forever.
Holding my head to her chest, she watched the birds fly above. "I love you, baby."
My mother found me.
I can forget about him for a moment.
I can run in the garden.
I can sing with her.
I lost myself in my memory.
I lost myself in my happiness.
He didn't wait around.
He slowly climbed off me.
The pain between my legs remained.
I heard the camera flash.
I didn't move.
I didn't look away.
Every time he brought me back, I went home to my mother.
No matter how hard I try to move on, he will forever haunt me.
You cannot forget someone stealing your innocence. It's ingrained, tarnishing your body, mind and soul. It is a gruesome reminder that, even though you survived, you will never outlive what happened to you.
You can take a shower and wash it away.
You can swallow medication and fall asleep.
You can smile before others and pretend.
But you can't erase or evade the demons inside your head.
Removing the bobble from my hair, I eliminated clothes and filled the bath with warm water. I climbed into the tub, laid back and watched the tap flow to the brim.
My eyes closed and sank beneath the surface.
The Monster can't have me anymore.
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