Chapter 11
Clare had left the room after we 'discussed' what was best for me and coming to that awesome agreement that she would leave me alone and Luke would show me a good time this summer to get to know me and 'help' me. Now, it was hours later. Around nine o'clock to be exact according to the clock on the table besides where I was still laying. I felt better. Well, I felt better as in better than before. My body still felt as if it were on fire but since I was able to take that pill at seven, it calmed the flames and even now, they were still settled within me.
But that didn't mean it helped with the urge for drugs.
The more time that was passing now as I laid there and he sat in that chair, the more glances I stole towards Luke. Because with every minute that seemed to pass, I could see his eyes were getting much heavier. They couldn't even stay fully focused on me. Probably because my beauty blinded him. I wished anyway. I felt like shit and looked like it. But I really couldn't care. All that my mind could focus on was the pain that I could feel buried deep in me.
"You look tired," I pointed out which was a huge understatement.
He blinked a few times, lifting his head from where it was dipped slightly near the floor. He slowly was able to find my eyes and he snorted at my words. "Does that mean I should go to sleep?" he asked, knowing what I was up to.
Laying on my back, my head tilted in his direction, I lifted my shoulder in an attempt of a shrug. "I'm just saying, you can't stay awake forever just to watch me. I'm not trying to trick you. I will be loyal to our deal," I said, unable to stop my words. I couldn't even smoothly lead him into believing that. It was obvious I was trying just to get him to leave. Yet, for some strange reason, I was unable to put much effort behind fooling him.
"Oh really?" He crossed his arms, slightly amused.
"Yeah. You said you would keep Clare and I from being together privately. But now, you did better than that. You are keeping us apart all together. Plus, you kept me out of jail and any community service I needed to do. You are keeping an eye on me during my withdrawal instead of resulting to handcuffs. You said you are going to show me a fun time this summer. And though you think I'm just imagining those things about Clare, you at least don't accuse me of purposely saying it just for attention like everyone else. The least I can do is honor the deal that I won't cause trouble by trying to runaway again."
Yeah, don't kid yourself. Though it was true that he was doing all those things, it's not like I would ever show my appreciation. I'm just trying to get him to buy my words.
His face remained blank. There was a second of silence and I knew he was thinking over my words. "How did you say it earlier? Bull-fucking-shit?"
I groaned. "Go to bed! I'm not going to runaway." I was getting slightly impatient. Couldn't he just leave and give me my chance to escape already? I knew it was a lost cause. But I would try anything now that I was desperate. Even just for the chance to try.
Sympathy crossed his face. "Do you think I'm stupid or did you forget that I know what you are experiencing and what your thought process is while going through this?"
I internally slapped myself. Of course, he knew without a doubt what I was up to. He went through what I was going through. Like he said, he knows I will get obsessed with trying to get away. "I was hoping for the first one but I'll be honest and say I forgot." I said.
"You were right about one thing." He said, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand as he slightly stretched from where he was sitting. "I can't watch you constantly, day and night, without getting sleep myself."
I wasn't sure what he meant at first by that. What was he getting at? I could feel my eyebrows dip in slight confusion but before I could ask, he stood up as he yawned. Taking a deep breath, his eyes fell on mine and he gave me a sad smile.
"You don't need to go to the bathroom for the rest of the night, do you?" he asked.
Either he and I were on two completely different pages - which I think was how it was most of the time anyway - or he was so tired, he didn't know what he was saying. Why would it matter if I needed to go to the bathroom or not? I answered anyway.
"No. Why?"
He closed his eyes, swallowing before he opened them like he was getting ready to drop something big on me. He moved a few steps closer towards my bed and as I looked up at him, I saw he looked sorry. Then, something unexpected happened.
He was slow and sluggish most of the day, so tired. Hell, from the time I first met him to now, he continued to grow more tired by the minute, even his movements a little slow. He sat in that chair, unmoving all day. He didn't seem like he had energy.
Yet, in the next second, he swiftly leaned down towards me more and before I could even gasp, he grabbed my left hand that was resting on the bed. He was so fast, I didn't even notice his other hand moving to his side before I saw he replaced his hand that was tightly grasping my arm with the thing his other hand was reaching for. He whipped something hard and metal around the wrist he quickly grabbed, my eyes wide with shock at the fast movement of it all. Never pausing, never breaking his swift movement, with the wrist he held with the cold metal around it, he jerked that arm up and over my head. As he did, I felt the bed move a little from where he came to kneel on my bed in the same second. My hand with the cold metal around it pinned by his strong hand above my head on my pillow, I heard a quick couple of clicking sound in the next second that matched the one I heard just a second ago.
Like I said, it happened so fast, my eyes were wide with shock at his movement alone. But then, when I saw what the hell he did, I could feel my eyes grow wider and a gasp escaped me when I saw what it was around my wrist and why I couldn't move it.
Looking above where my head rested on the pillow, I saw that my wrist was handcuffed to the headboard. The hard material that was cuffed around my left wrist, I saw that the other was latched around one of the few bars that made up the decorative design of the headboard of the bed. What... the hell?
He... he handcuffed me to the headboard.
If I wasn't in shock or in panic at the moment, I would have said something about how Clare must have really been disappointing in bed since he obviously was ready for some foreplay with me. But humor wasn't something that crossed my mind at the moment.
The only sound in the room was my breath that increased to new levels. I could feel my lips were parted, jaw dropped as I took in the sight of my trapped wrist above my head. I then felt my eyes search out the source of this and when I looked back up to Luke, I saw he was kneeling on the bed near my legs.
I met my eyes with his in alarm. "What...? What are you doing?" I asked in an astonished high voice.
His sad green eyes held mine as I waited for something, some answer from him. He bit his lip as his eyes took in mine; he looked hard at me, trying to get me to understand when he said his next words. "Albany... please understand. I need to sleep some time, I need to rest. And I can't do that if I'm not positive you can't run. Not runaway from home like we agreed in the deal. Run as in escape to find some drugs to numb the burn." He sighed, shaking his head at this whole situation. "I will be back in the morning to unlock it. I'm only going to do this when I need to sleep or go somewhere else. Other than that, I'm going to be in here with you so you won't have to stay locked up like this. I'm not going into work until you are through this. Because I don't want you to go through it the way I did. It's just for when I can't be here."
Oh my god.... Oh no, no, no! It was hard enough for more reasons than one that he had to watch me, to keep me from leaving. Hard for the fact that not only did I have no chance to try to escape, it was hard because I wasn't in control. I didn't have a choice when he sat in my room, watching me to keep me in the room. But now....
I felt my breath go ridged and my stomach twist in agony. Not from the physical pain. From the mental pain that seemed to be clouding my vision in absolute fear. It was one thing to force me to stay in this room with him. Now though, I was physically not in control. Sure, I guess that already was the case from the horrible sickness in me. But when I can't even control how to move my body, when I am handcuffed to my bed... that took away so much more freedom for me it felt. Even though he said it was only for when he was gone and at nights, it didn't matter. Because during that time, I was completely helpless and weak, weighed down with the decisions of others. No control, no choice....
I started to shake. At least if he was in here, I could move around my room. But I couldn't leave the bed, move my damn body from this position. And not only did that cause me severe panic it seemed from the total loss of control, it brought something else to my mind.
I don't cry. That was just that. And I refused to now and I didn't. But it was the first time in a long while that I felt like letting a few tears slip. This was worse then Clare beating me, worse than the pain thriving in my body now. It was a physical problem that was now triggering a huge mental one in my head. No control of any kind. But now... I realized I was a sitting duck.
Clare wants to hurt me - worse than ever before. She never gave me what I had coming since I have been home. But I knew that she wanted to and was planning on doing it somehow. I just figured that since Luke will be around all the time, watching and keeping an eye, it wouldn't happen for at least a while. But now... he was going to bed. In the bed she was in so she would know I would be alone at night. She would know that it would be the perfect time to come in my room and beat me. But that wasn't what nearly brought tears to my eyes. It was the fact that I wouldn't be able to fight back or control anything if Clare did that. I would be handcuffed to the headboard and I couldn't even be ready to block or fight back. I knew that she would easily win and beat me down either way. Yet, I still had control when she beat me because I had the chance to try to defend myself or at least control how to take the beating. I had no chance, no control, no choice, no freedom, and no power now. And that, ladies and gentlemen, was my greatest fear.
Without realizing it, I was gasping loudly and showing him I was obviously panicked - which I didn't like either that he could see how this affected me. His eyes on me, so sorry and sad, they told me he didn't really expect this kind of reaction from me. He probably assumed I would be beyond pissed off. I was - don't think I'm not pissed too. But fear clouded it to the point where being angry wasn't even relevant to me right now.
"Please!" I spit out. "Y-You can't. I mean, there must be a different way to secure me. Just not this," I begged and that tells you how desperate I was. I'm not someone that begs because I had dignity. It didn't matter right now.
He exhaled with a sigh, his eyes falling to my bed because he didn't want to face my pleading. I knew he didn't want to do it like this because he really was concerned with helping me. But now, I saw it really bothered him to know I was more scared than mad at him. He expected me yelling at him and he would have taken it. He didn't like that this upset me and scared me.
"I can't," he whispered, moving off my bed as he stood up beside it, his eyes finding mine again.
"You don't understand!" I exclaimed, digging my eyes in his so he could see just how much this bothered me. "You say you understand me. You don't understand this! You can't leave me like this!" I wasn't going to explain anything though because I really didn't want him knowing more about my weaknesses. All I needed him to see was that he couldn't leave me and bind me in this way.
"What else can I do?" he asked, wondering what I had in mind instead.
I swallowed hard, shaking my head. "I-I don't know. You just can't leave me bound anywhere like this."
He groaned. "Tell me why. I'm going to need a good reason."
I sighed, closing my eyes in defeat. I refused to tell him about my problem with needing some sense of control or freedom. I didn't want to tell him my fear about Clare coming in here tonight and beating me. But looking up at him, I saw he wasn't going to budge on this no matter how guilty he was probably feeling unless I have a good reason, like he said.
"Luke...." I groaned. "It has nothing to do with an escape strategy or anything concerning withdrawal. It's Clare," I said, looking down and not wanting to meet his eyes, ashamed at how weak I sounded and really was. I was about to shove my stupid embarrassment to this side and tell him that she would come in and beat me; that if he was gone and that if I was bound like this, I couldn't fight back. I wasn't going to say anything about the need for a sense of freedom if she beats me but it didn't matter either way when he spoke before me.
It seemed as if just telling him that Clare was the reason made him reach the conclusion that I was scared of him not being in here. "I am close by," he said, making me internally whimper. That was all he needed to say to tell me he wasn't going to take these cuffs off me. "If Clare comes in here, just scream and I'll be in here not a second later."
Two things just occurred to me when he said that. First off, I guess he was right. I could always just scream and he would wake up if Clare woke me with a beating. It calmed my nerves just slightly. The second thing... were the actual words he said.
If Clare comes in....
It was the first time he phrased it like that. 'If Clare,' he had said. Not 'If you think Clare.' He said it like he considered I was right about Clare actually coming in here and beating me. But I knew he didn't really believe that. He self consciously said it. It just came out that way but I had an idea why.
He was looking at this, from my point of view, through my eyes. Because he knew that to me, Clare could come in and beat me. It was real to me and because of that, it was real to him in the sense that my brain made it real. He was looking at it like I was, even though he didn't actually believe it would happen. It was just a little comforting to see that he understood my fear in that way.
"What?" he asked and his words snapped me out of that thought process, making me realize I was just staring at him in deep thought.
I spoke, recalling what those words actually meant. "Even though you will be just down the hall...." I sighed. What else could I say to maybe convince him to do something else other than keep me handcuffed? Not much. "What if you don't wake if I scream?" I asked.
"I will. Hell, I'm not even down the hall from here. I'm on the other side of that wall," he said, gesturing the the wall we shared. He was right; he would hear me. But that didn't really help. The beating wasn't my real concern - though I was anxious about it. It was that I wouldn't be able to react to it in any way.
He didn't give me a chance to speak but really, I wasn't sure what else I could say. "I will hear. It's going to be okay," he said softly. "Just see how you can handle tonight before we look for any alternative ways."
Like before, like any time really, when I get really anxious or scared, I try not to show it by hiding it with a pissed off or humorous attitude. But tonight, I was beyond just scared and that made me unable to really hide it from him this time. Yet, though I was terrified out of my mind, those last words made me block out the fear or at least shove it aside for a moment as this really pissed me off now.
I shook my head in disgust at him. "You may understand a few things about me. But your as blind as a bat when it comes to really and truly knowing others. You don't trust that I have been telling the truth about her. I respect that for the fact that there is evidence I am insane. But you're judging me and my sanity because you have a perfect and sweet wife that you love. You will go with whatever she says. Because of that, you won't even try to consider that maybe I'm right; won't consider that maybe I should get a chance. You are a fucking cop. That means you can't lean towards sides based on anything personal. And you are doing more than that! You are selfish! Selfish because you won't even try to get pass that your wife is lying because you don't want to cause any more trouble between you two. You want to remain loyal because you finally have a wife and love her. It's selfish that your needs to be loyal and happy come before considering what might actually be happening!" I found I was yelling at him and all he could so was stare at me, taking in my words. "You are so selfish! You're so happy with the mask she is showing you, you don't even want to know if there is something real and nasty under it. You are satisfied with your life and that you have a perfect wife that you won't bother to suspect she is anything but that. You are the one that will beat me, not her. You're the one that is letting her slip by unnoticed for all she has and will do to me. It's going to be your fault when I end up beaten by her! I did nothing to deserve to be judged like I am a mental patient, like I am sick for actually seeing the true side of people! You'll be sorry if you find out the truth because you won't be able to forgive yourself when you find out you let a murderer like her beat her daughter under your nose!" I wished the part about her being a murderer wasn't true. But it was true.
"You may be helping me in a number of ways. But it doesn't matter when the biggest issue of my life doesn't even deserve a raised eyebrow from you!" I paused, breathing hard and I noticed that at some part of my rant, I must have sat up - well, as best as I could have with being cuffed to my headboard - because now I was kneeling on the bed and towards him as much as the cool metal would allow, shouting in his face. I realized then how much I meant all those things and I wasn't just saying it because I was mad. No, I meant every word. "I respect you, I like you to some extent. But I will never forgive you for overlooking something so big and so damaging to me. Now, you ignorant son of a bitch," I said slowly, a hiss of torment and anger filling my words. "Get out of my fucking face and go fuck your innocent little wife that I'm sure is waiting for you in bed because according to the past, I know not one word I have said will actually affect you!"
He stared at me, horror slowly filling in his features at all my words. It looked like this time, I might have actually hit a nerve. But I knew better than to get my hopes up that he would actually try to see beyond her mask. I've given up on trying to convince anybody that I'm not crazy a long while ago. Those words have been in me since the moment I was exposed to the judgmental world, full of people avoiding me and calling me nuts. But really, I was especially furious at him out of everyone. He wants to help, to be friends. That will never be fully accomplished if he doesn't think over my words. And I already knew with experience that he won't believe me. Because whatever a mentally unstable person has to say, it doesn't matter. No matter the words, I was still labeled. And it meant whatever leaves my mouth can't be considered, trusted, or even relevant to anybody.
He just... stood there, staring at my eyes, lips parted as his breath picked up slightly. He looked more awake now than before. Only physically though, of course. His eyebrows dipped in hurt, his jaw tightening and I saw his lips start to move, as if he was going to say something. But no words left him.
Finally, I saw him look down, turning his head slightly, his face out of my sight as he tried to process my words. From the look and reaction of him, I knew he did accept my words the second I said what I did. A moment later, his feet moved and matching it were the sound of his footsteps that were leading to the door. He walked out of the room, out of my sight before I saw the door follow him as far at it could before it clicked shut. I was all alone for the first time in a while, handcuffed to the headboard and all I could do was wait.