by D W Marshall
“What is it, Brin?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I lie. I don’t want to ask because I’m not sure I want the answer.
“You can ask or tell me anything. Just talk to me, please.”
“It’s just…” I look at him briefly and then away. “Getting on with Bluest Moon Productions is an amazing accomplishment, but what about your dream to go to NYU?”
He is silent as he stares into my eyes. “I couldn’t go.”
“Why? You were already accepted. What happened?”
“Some psycho kidnapped my girl off the fucking street, and everything in my life changed.”
I drop my head to my lap. My tears fall with ease. I hear the anger in his voice.
“I’m sorry, babe. I know you’re not ready to talk about what happened. Just know that I couldn’t leave. I felt like as long as I stayed here, you would find your way back to me…you would come home. I was lost without you, and since New York was our dream, I just couldn’t do it.” He rubs my back.
“I thought about you every day, every minute,” I cry out. “Thinking about you was the only thing that kept me strong, but, honestly, it also scared me to death.” I cry harder. He pulls me back into his arms. “I was worried that you would find someone else. Or worse, that if I did make it out of there, you wouldn’t want me anymore because of the things that were done to me.”
He pulls me up and is gentle at the task of turning my face to his. “Brinley. There is only you. There will only ever be you for me. I will never stop loving you.” Tears leak from his red-rimmed eyes as he weeps for me. “I love you.”
“I love you ,too.”
He continues. “No amount of time, no kidnapping, or rapist assholes will change that,” he promises me.
Hearing the word “rapist” is like being slapped in the face. It accurately describes what I went through, but the use of that word also confuses me, because in spite of everything that happened to me, I was treated very well for the most part. We will see if his promises hold true. I still don’t know how much crazy I brought back with me. After a year, I am no doubt changed, and only time will tell how and how much.
For now I can revel in the knowledge that, in this moment, he loves me.
4
My first day home went by in a blur of tears and emotions—as tumultuous as a reunion of this magnitude is expected to be. Logan begged me to let him stay with me. He and Mom are so worried that I’ll be taken again. Maybe I’m the idiot for believing that Mason will stay true to his word. I know Logan is worried about me, but I need some time to focus—without the looks that he and Mom try to mask. I already feel like enough of a freak without that.
My head is a highway of thoughts and I need to be alone. Even though he didn’t ask much or say much about what happened to me, I know the questions are there, on the tip of his tongue, and he is keeping them at bay for me. While I appreciate him for that—for caring enough to consider my feelings and needs—knowing that he will eventually want me to answer them doesn’t make me feel better.
Still, he is reluctant to say goodnight and promises to come by in the morning. It’s after ten. Mom went to sleep two hours ago, no doubt exhausted from me showing up on the doorstep after all this time. The house is too quiet. I can’t help but think about my chamber sisters. I send out a silent prayer that they are all back home, safe with their loved ones. I hope they are doing a better job than me. I hope they can survive and assimilate into life after The Chamber.
I pour my fatigued body back into bed. Hopefully I’m tired enough to drift off to sleep. But of course I don’t. Instead, I toss and turn.
Too hot, covers off. Too cold, covers back on. I fight startling images that flash behind my closed lids. My chamber, the men, Mason, the girls. Hot unwanted bodies pressed against mine, taking what I don’t want to give. When I can’t take it any longer, I shoot up in bed.
“Arg! Forget it!” I shout, frustrated with myself. I clamber out of bed and pad out of my room to the kitchen. I grab a wine glass, uncork a new bottle of Cab from the counter, and make my way back to my room.
After I take a healthy draw of the deep red liquid, and burrow myself deep within my warm bedding, I do the only thing I know that will help me. There are six journals in the stack—they’re all so beautiful. I can tell my mother took care in selecting each journal for me. I choose one with heavenly clouds on the entire cover because I need all of the celestial support I can get. Its pages are thin and framed with gold. I take another sip from my glass.
“You can do this, Brin. The only way to bury Violet forever is to bring her to life. Then, kill the bitch.”
It’s my first day home. So far, it’s not as scary as I expected. I have the support of my mom and Logan. But writing this is what I need to become free. I remember everything about my first night inside of my chamber…
I freeze and my blood runs cold as a chill passes through me. My first night inside The Chamber. It all seems like a horrible nightmare that didn’t actually happen to me. My hands shake, tears drip onto the page, and I remain frozen. The only sound is the tapping of tears hitting the page.
Another shiver rushes through me. I slam my journal closed and chuck my pen across the room because I can feel every single thing I felt a year ago—terror, dread, and doom. My fingers hurt from the death grip I had on the pen, but I’m not sure I am strong enough to dredge all of these memories back up. And at the same time I’m not strong enough not to. Each path leads me to a terrible end.
If I ignore what I went through I will surely go crazy. But if I force myself to recall these events in detail, I suffer twice, making myself crazy. I fling the covers from my body and jump out of my bed, and pace back and forth.
I have never been one for making the hard choices in life. Until a year ago, my life was simple. I gravitated toward acting at a young age. My mother was never a stage mom. She never pushed me to audition for commercials and movies. Even growing up with Hollywood in our backyard, my parents’ attitudes were very laid back. They supported me in everything I wanted to do, but it was obvious that I was driving the car. I initiated auditioning for my theater club in fourth grade. I participated in every school play.
When I got into middle school, I joined the community theater. And when my drama teacher suggested extra classes for me because she saw potential, I brought the paperwork home and Mom and Dad signed me up. The hardest choices I ever had to make were which part to audition for and how to dress for the part.
When it was time for college, AMDA was an easy choice. I had friends who were accepted a year before me, so I visited them at the campus and by the time my audition date came up, I felt very sure of my decision.
But my life isn’t that simple anymore.
The Chamber robbed me of more than time. Mason the Monster took more than my innocence. He took everything. Fuck it. I’m sure I’m already nuts. I climb back into bed and reorganize myself. Just when I get settled in, I remember I threw my pen. Sighing, I hop out of bed to search for it, find it, and situate myself in bed again. I put the pen inside the journal as a placeholder and lay it on my table. The bitch-killing will have to wait, but luckily there is always tomorrow. And saying so doesn’t sound so dreadful now that I’m home.
5
Mom and I wait at the airport for Tabitha’s flight to arrive. When she learned of my return, she booked a flight out right away. Out of all of my reunions, I’m not stressed about this one. She won’t worry like my mother, and I don’t have to worry about her accepting me or loving me. Sitting near the baggage claim, I’m stirring with energy, but it’s the excited kind.
When I finally see her round the corner, tears spring from my eyes. She looks the same as the last time I saw her—warm brown skin and long limbs on a thin body. Her hair is styled in a natural wild mane of curls. I rise from my seat and wait for her to find me. When she does she stops walking, her face crumples and we run toward one another. I drop my purse and wrap my arms around her. We cr
y into each other’s necks with relief and joy.
“I thought I’d never see you again!” she cries.
“Me too. I missed you so much.”
Mom joins our embrace, and the three of us hold this position for what seems like forever. By the time we separate, Tabitha and I do the uncomfortable relief laughter—the kind that bubbles to the surface when we have no idea what to do with the emotions inside of us.
We link arms with each other and follow Mom to the car, staring at each other the entire way. I stare in relief. She stares back in disbelief.
By the time we get home, she and I have decided to get me out of the house, so we drop Mom off and take the car.
I pull away from the curb, unsure of where we’re headed.
“Show me where it happened,” she blurts out before we can make it to the stop sign at the end of my street.
I whip my head around to her in surprise. “Where what happened?”
She deadpans. “Where the motherfuckers kidnapped you, Bee.”
Panic surges through my body and I stop the car. My limbs weaken and pseudo-paralysis takes over at the thought of going back there. “I don’t think I can.”
She reaches for the gear shift, throws the car into park and hops out. As I watch her walk around the front of the car, dread fills me. I don’t move my body, only my head swivels to watch her as she stands at the driver’s side. My heart races like I ran three miles.
“What are you doing?” I ask through the closed window.
She stares down at me. “Get out of the car, Bee.”
I let the window down a smidge and look up at her determined face.
“What will this solve?”
We lock in one of our famous stare offs.
“I’ve been home a day, Tabitha. I’m not ready for this.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “And you never will be. Let’s rip the band-aid off and lessen the power it has on you.”
There is no way that Tabitha or anyone else can understand the gravity of going back to where it all started. Honestly, I dreamed of coming home and never stepping foot outside of the house again. And now, she wants to rush to the dreadful spot so soon. Tears prick my eyes and hang on the rim, threatening to spill as heat pulses through me.
“Unlock the door.” She shouts through the window. I steal a glance at her and based on the flat line of her mouth and squint in her eye, she is serious.
I shake my head, mouth the word no, and turn away from her. I focus on the street and slow my breaths.
“Bee.” She knocks on the window. “I won’t let anything happen to you. If you want, I can see if Taron will come with us.”
I push the button to let the window down a few inches and stare at her through narrowed eyes. She has no idea what I was up against when I was taken and her ass is skinnier than mine. But with Taron in tow, I’d feel safer. He’s her older brother by five years, an ex-marine, and now he owns a mixed martial arts gym and bodyguard service in town. I know for a fact that he carries a concealed gun and is lethal with his hands.
“Call him, and if he says yes, then yes.” I cross my arms and wait.
She rolls her eyes at me and puts her face close to the window. “You are a lot right now.”
“I’m scared to death to go back.” I plead for understanding.
Her face falls. “I know, and I love you, and I don’t want you to be scared. Now hand me my phone.” I grab her phone off the passenger seat and slide it through the opening in the window.
I love that Tabitha pushes but doesn’t overstep. We have been friends since kindergarten. She is my rock and I’m hers. She knows me well enough to know that if Taron doesn’t agree, we aren’t going.
I watch her make the call and then put the phone on speaker.
“Hey, Tee,” she says.
“Hey. You see Brinley yet?” he asks.
“Yeah, I’m with her now.”
“Bee. I’m so happy to hear that you’re home safe. If you need me for anything, name it,” he says through the speaker.
“Thanks, Taron. I may take you up on that.”
“Actually, we need a favor right now,” Tabitha says and holds up a finger to me. She steps over to the front of the car, out of my earshot. I watch as she talks and smiles and holds up a thumb. Then she makes her way back to the window.
“I’m leaving right now. I’ll meet you guys at Griffith’s. Don’t even think of getting out of the car until you see me.” His voice blares through the phone speaker.
“Okay,” we both say and I instantly feel better about this trip.
Tabitha lets out a relieved breath and I unlock the door. She doesn’t hesitate before opening the door and gesturing for me to get out. I unbuckle the belt, climb over the center console, and plop into the passenger seat.
6
The Chamber
After Mason finished with me in the Deflowering Chamber I must have passed out. I am awakened by a gentle hand. The woman puts a single finger to her lips, signaling for me to be quiet. Then she motions for me to follow her. I wrap myself with the bedding when I realize that I’m naked. Not knowing what else to do, I follow the woman out of the Deflowering Chamber. Looking at her for the first time, I realize that she can hardly be called a woman any more than I can. She is model pretty. Her hair is cut so short that I would call it shorn, her skin is clear and a smooth, deep ebony. Her body is waif-like. I notice Flame still asleep next to her guard—a tangle of sheets and limbs. If we were anywhere else they could be lovers. But we are not anywhere else. This is as much her nightmare as it is mine. I feel for her when she wakes up and realizes what she has lost.
Once outside, the woman turns to me after closing the door. “I’m Genesis. I will be your groomer during your stay with us,” she says in a strong British accent. “Let me show you around.”
I follow her without question through elaborate stone archways with abstract art hanging on the walls. In every nook and cranny there are hidden stairwells and heavy, closed doors with secrets I have no desire to unfold. I’ve already turned in so many directions in this labyrinth, escape is no longer a viable option. My chance was back in Los Angeles. I can’t even begin to formulate words. I am having a ‘this can’t really be happening to me’ moment. My innocence has been ripped from me and my life taken away as if I mean nothing. If I were strong enough to fight my way out of this place, my mother and I would never be safe. We’d be on the run…that is, if I could even get to her before they do. So I obey Genesis. I follow along, but I say nothing.
We stop in front of an elevator. She places a key into a keyhole and turns it before depressing the button to call the elevator.
“The lift is the easiest way to get around in here. You and the other girls are free to roam around levels two and five. Every other level will require a key to access.”
We step into the open elevator.
I immediately see what she means. There are buttons with numbers two and five on them. The other floors have keyholes in place of buttons. The elevator is grand and gold and beautiful—downright royal, with jewel tones and a chandelier. We get off on the second floor. I follow Genesis into a foyer that is equally as beautiful.
“This is the spa, and this, here, is Roxy. Hello, love,” she greets Roxy.
Roxy is also stunning with long blonde hair that cascades down her perfect body in healthy waves. I surmise that only the gorgeous need apply.
“Hey, Genesis. This must be Violet,” she says and smiles at me.
I nod at Roxy. I offer her a tight smile. I don’t stop and chat. Instead I gaze around the area. This place screams Rodeo Drive.
“Welcome to the Beautification Chamber,” Roxy says.
“Here you will find the spa, pool, a lounge, exercise room, steam room, and sauna,” Genesis says as she begins walking. I follow closely.
I wave to Roxy because I can see that she is a nice person, so I won’t be rude on purpose.
“You will spend a lot of your time in
this area,” Genesis says, opening a door. I follow her inside.
This room is smaller, but the décor is just as opulent. The small room is equipped with a salon chair, a massage table, and a large clawfoot tub. The tub is filled with water and petals that give off a delectable aroma.
Genesis slaps her hands on the massage table. “Hop up here.” I cross the small room and before I can place a foot on the step to hoist myself onto the tall massage table, she adds, “Lose the sheet, love.”
A shiver shoots through my body at the idea of being naked in front of her. Seeing no other option, I drop the sheet and climb onto the table. I sit facing her with my legs hanging off the table, like at the doctor’s office. I don’t know what part of my body to cover up with my hands, so I cover my breasts with one while my other arm covers me down below.
“Love, I will be honest with you,” she says. “The sooner you get used to being in the buff, the better, especially around me. I will be getting pretty cozy with your private parts over this next year. Now, please lie down and scoot back.”
Oh my God. What is she going to do to me? With natural reluctance and hesitation, I lie down on the massage table, scooting toward the top at the same time. My body flushes with heat and sweat when Genesis spreads my legs open. All I can think of is how to get out of this place, this moment. A small gasp escapes my lips.
“I am going to massage some salve into your vagina. It will promote healing. You just had your first time with Mason. I’m not speaking from experience, but I have heard he can be pretty rough. I will always be gentle with you, Violet.”
