Keeping his bride

Selina

W EDNESDAY MORNING’S APPOINTMENT with Dr.

Graham went just about as well as I expected it to go. She asked an ungodly amount of questions, and I refused to answer ninety-nine-point-nine percent of them. And then we continued the tedious back and forth of her asking and me evading for nearly an hour until she finally relented and sent me away with a notebook so that I could “journal my feelings” or whatever.

The notebook feels heavy in my hand as I carry it back to my room. I’ve never discussed my feelings with anyone let alone had enough guts to write them down on paper. Dr. Graham thinks it will be good for me to journal whatever is on my mind, but she has no idea of the appalling things I’ve seen or what goes on inside of my head. I’m just thankful that she nor anyone in this house can read minds.

Lying down on the bed, I sigh as I flip open to the first blank page in the notebook. I put the tip of my ballpoint pen to the paper, but my hand just rests there. I force myself to write something, anything, but the words just aren’t coming out how I want them to. The sentences look jumbled and messy.

It’s not like I don’t have things to talk about. It’s just that it feels like if I put them on paper, then that makes them all real. The torture and agony I endured feels like an ongoing nightmare in my mind. But if I start to write them down, I’ll be forced to face the truth and fixate on them over and over again.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, I rip out the page, ball it up and toss it into the nearby trashcan. Staring at the fresh empty page, an idea comes to me. At the top of the paper on the blue line, I write Things I Want to Do.

It will be like my own sort of bucket list, but this is for the immediate future and just little things, nothing like traveling the world or doing something spectacular before I die. This is more of a wish list for the present; short-term goals that I’d like to accomplish while I’m staying here.

Number one on the list is to get my GED. I’ve already started working on it, thanks to the Vitale family. I’m supposed to be taking a placement test soon, so that I can begin studying and focusing on everything I need to work on. And even though I’m extremely nervous, I’m excited at the same time.

School was never a priority to my mother. Well, I guess, neither was I really. I was young when she pulled me out of public school, bragging to the superintendent that I would be homeschooled with the best tutors money could buy. She loved to put on airs even though every single person we met could see right through her bullshit. Too bad it took me years to figure her out.

Frowning, I return my attention back to the notebook. I chew on the end of the pen while I think for a few minutes. Drive a car ends up on the list next. I’ve never even been in the driver’s seat of a car before. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to just take off on a carefree ride to anywhere you want to go with the windows down and the music blaring. It seems like it would be liberating.

Go surfing. Nico and I used to go surfing a lot when I lived here. There is nothing quite like the power of the ocean and catching the perfect wave. We used to spend the whole day from sunup to sundown out on the water, and I never grew tired of it. Not even for a second. I found a passion in that pastime that I have never been able to find again.

I twirl my long hair around my finger as I try to think about what else I want to put on the list. Staring down at my split ends, I know exactly what I want to write next.

Cut my hair.

Constantine never allowed me to cut my hair. He told me once that the long hair made me look younger. A violent shiver runs through me as I recall that memory. I hate thinking about him. The sad thing is, he was a huge part of my childhood. Some children fear the boogeyman or the monster under the bed. I actually lived with mine. He was real. He is real.

“You’re still not safe,” I tell myself out loud. I need to keep reminding myself of that. I’ll never be safe until he’s dead.

And that’s why the next thing on my list I write is…Kill

Constantine Carbone.

I stare at the words, unable to tear my eyes away from them. I will them to come true somehow. I want the man who assaulted and raped me for years to be brought to his own fair justice. Death might be too lenient for him, however. I want him to suffer. I want him to suffer for all of his victims’ lives, not just mine.

A knock sounds on my door, and I call out for Nico to come in.

Nico doesn’t open the door, however. It’s Aria. She looks just like a miniature version of her own mother – pretty and petite with long, dark curls and amber eyes. She’s dressed in a shimmery beige summer dress with sandals. God, she always looks like she just stepped out of a fashion magazine. I don’t know how someone can be that well put together all the time when I’m over here just trying to not get any more stains on my shirt.

“I’m bored,” Aria says with a pout. “Want to go shopping?” she asks with a hopeful expression.

“Sure, I’d love to go shopping,” I tell her.

Aria’s face instantly lights up. “Okay, great. I’ll see you downstairs in five,” she says before leaving my room.

After our pool day together, I feel like Aria and I could be really great friends. We always got along when I lived here the first time, but the age gap made it difficult for us to bond over anything since she was really into Barbies and I had already outgrown them. But I do remember the time we spent together playing outside with Nico and having movie and game nights as a family.

Now that we’re older, we have all new things to try to bond over. Clearly, she likes to shop as I haven’t seen her wear the same thing twice since I arrived. She’s always in the cutest clothes and dresses, and I definitely could use her help in that department.

Aria couldn’t have picked a better time to ask me. Sighing, I glance down at my outfit – a pair of black yoga pants and a plain shirt. It’s the best I have at the moment, and I’m definitely in need of a change.

NicholasThis text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

Aldo and I spent the day examining some of the intel Selina provided us with. We’ve been holed up in the control room; and as I walk back to the house, I relish in the feel of the sun on my skin and the fresh air in my lungs. Even though we were really starting to make some progress, I needed a break to go see my girl. I miss the fuck out of her. Like an addict without his fix, I need to just see her to tide me over until my next hit.

On the way to her room, I think about the information she gave us that we were diligently working on. Constantine supposedly has been taking girls and women to an island somewhere and auctioning their virginity off to very rich and powerful men. Selina could only tell us what she overheard Constantine talking about; she hasn’t actually been to the island. Fuck, if we could find it, we could save so many young women.

Aldo promised to keep searching until we find it, so hopefully he can come up with something soon. The odds are stacked against us, though; because if the most powerful men in the world go there, I’m sure it’s well hidden and kept secret to only those who attend the auctions.

The sick fucks.

I shake out my arms, trying to relieve some of the tension in my body before I knock on Selina’s bedroom door. As I wait, I try to think of a reason to tell her as to why I’m here. Maybe I’ll offer to work out with her again or ask what she wants for dinner. Any excuse to talk to her is fine with me. The door is open a few inches; and when she doesn’t answer after a minute, I peek my head inside. The room is empty, and I frown.

Where could she be?

I didn’t see her outside or downstairs on the way here. Worry starts to gnaw at my gut. What if she tried to leave again? She wouldn’t do that, though, would she?

Pushing the door open, I walk in. There’s a notebook in the middle of her bed that grabs my attention, and my heart squeezes inside my chest. Did she leave me a note? A fucking goodbye letter?

The first page is open with the pen still resting against it and there are words scrawled neatly down the page. I know I should respect her privacy and not look, but I need to make sure she didn’t run off. If she did, I might still have a chance to find her and bring her back before anything happens.

I only plan on taking a glance, but then I realize it’s a list. My curiosity gets the best of me, and I move closer, reading the list and memorizing it.

Get my GED.

Drive a car.

Go surfing.

Cut my hair.

The last one gives me pause. Kill Constantine Carbone. I can’t help the grin forming on my lips when I read over the last item over and over again. Carbone didn’t break my Lina. No, he only made her stronger, reinforced her will, spirit and determination. She just needs to be reminded of that now and then. And I want to be the person who helps her realize her strength.

Relieved that it’s not a goodbye note, I leave her room after that and go to seek her out. If she wants to accomplish those things on her list, I want to be the one helping her through each and every one. I want to be by her side and watch her accomplish all of her goals. I want to be there for her through everything she has to deal with, the ups and downs and everything in between.

The sun doesn’t rise or set unless she’s with me. She’s my whole world now.

I run into Renato in the main room of the compound. “The girls went shopping,” he informs me, as if reading my mind.

“Ah, okay,” I say with a grin. I’m glad Selina could get out of the house. I know she’s been anxious to go shopping too, but I haven’t taken her because I’m terrible with that sort of thing. I’m glad my sister is making an effort. I know both of them could really use a friend, so it’s kind of perfect.

“Want to train with me today while they’re gone?” Renato suggests.

“Sure,” I tell him. I’ve been meaning to take my frustrations out on something one way or another.

“Fists or knives?” he asks.

“Knives,” I tell him with a salacious grin. “Definitely knives.”