by Cee Smith
Dominic stood when I was within arm’s distance, moving away from the conversation still transpiring between Sampson and Robert. He wrapped his warm arms around my waist and spoke in a voice, which could barely be heard above the cacophonous sounds surrounding us.
“Is everything all right?” He breathed.
“Yes, I just needed to use the restroom. Are you done speaking with Sampson?”
“Almost, we should only be another ten minutes. Would you like me to have something brought around for you?”
“No, I’m fine. Thank you.”
Dominic gave me a second glance before returning to their discussion. I stood off to the side feeling sweat trickle down my arms, pooling in the center of my hands. I wasn’t sure that Sampson was someone I could trust, but I had no other options. The only alternative was Robert. He seemed like a good guy, and his wife was very kind-hearted, but where were their loyalties? Sampson had something to lose. He was a man that could be bought.
Their conversation ended with pats on the back and congratulatory handshakes. While Dominic was busy shaking Sampson’s hand, I pulled the small piece of folded paper stuffed in the top of my dress and clasped it tightly. Dominic placed his arm back around my waist, pulling me into the fold, and I transferred the piece of paper into my right hand.
Everything was riding on this one moment. My breath lay frozen in my lungs as Sampson’s hand reached across the distance between us. Light refracted off his gleaming teeth, looking like little white pieces of Chiclet.
“Hailey, it’s been a…delight.” I felt the moment Sampson noticed the paper that crushed between our palms. There was a pause, a breath, a flicker. I hoped I was the only one to notice. My nostrils flared and eyes bulged for those few moments when I thought he might reveal my frail attempt at surviving.
Sampson didn’t know what was at stake here. He didn’t know how much I was riding on his silence. The only hope I had was that he might think I was soliciting him for sex like some high-class prostitute. He was a man that definitely valued women by what they could offer him sexually; I could see it in his sleazy smile. I just hoped it worked in my favor.
“It was nice meeting you, Sampson. Enjoy the rest of your night.”
“You as well.” When he lifted the back of my hand to his lips to kiss goodbye, I was sure that he thought I gave him my number or whatever it was that hookers did at functions like these. I smiled briefly, ignoring the air huffing from Dominic’s nose at the sight of the gentlemanly gesture.
Just like that, Dominic whisked us out of the enchanting room and back to the confines of the limo. I was barely seated before his lips met mine in a kiss that felt more like him breathing against my mouth. His hands trapped my face, preventing me from moving more than a few centimeters in either direction. All that existed was our kiss.
His lips dotted mine before he sunk back into the seat, exhaling a breath that he had seemed to be holding since before we had entered the ball. He grinned—the first real smile I’d seen in days—and I couldn’t help but smile with him. Except, my smile was laced with the possibilities of a future where I was no one’s prisoner.
Lying in bed, Dominic whispered praises that relaxed the tension in my jaw and soothed the muscles still jittery with nerves. We lay on our sides, his chest hovering over my back, one arm thrown over my waist and the other beneath my head like a pillow, lulling me to sleep with warm and soft skin. For all I knew, he could have been speaking gibberish, but his voice rocked me to sleep within minutes. I drifted on a cloud of glittering glass and bright lights and a swaying body that floated through the most beautiful dream I could remember.
As usual, I awoke to hands chained to the wall. Except, typically Dominic would have chained me up as soon as I had gotten into bed. Unlike the last couple weeks, it seemed he had reverted back to distancing himself from me.
I felt a sense of foreboding as I awoke to an empty room beneath sheets that were uncomfortably cool against my warm skin. Ignoring the pinch of a full bladder, I slammed back down into the pillows, pulling the covers over my head. Today was the first day that I had nothing to do—no reason to get dressed or leave the bed.
I lay in bed second-guessing the note I gave Sampson. Was he the right person to pass along the message? Or, would he use this information to his advantage, forcing Dominic into doing business on his own terms? Dominic painted him as being unscrupulous. Did this just extend to business, or was there something else there? Maybe kidnapping was an everyday occurrence in his world? It would have been smart to find out more about Sampson. But I wasn’t even sure, until the plane ride over, that I was going to pass him a note. It would have looked suspicious if I had started asking about Sampson in the car before I had met him.
I didn’t have long to think about it before I heard the door creak, a signal that Clema had entered to release me. With the clank of the key being inserted into the cuffs, I poked my head above the covers, watching her efficient movements.
“Tell me what I’m supposed to do now,” I groaned. I didn’t know what I expected her to say. She hadn’t done anything to help me thus far, and some days I almost felt sorry for her. In some ways, she was just as much a prisoner as I was—held in captivity for years until it felt more like home than any place she had lived before. I didn’t want to become like Clema. I didn’t want to forget what it felt like to spend hours on the phone with Jessa saying absolutely nothing, nor did I want to forget holidays with the Bartholomews or being harassed by Adam. I didn’t want to forget what the ocean and sand felt like. I didn’t want to forget what having free will felt like.
“Your circumstances may have changed, but your life is far from over. I haven’t spent much time with the both of you, but can’t you see how much Dominic has changed in the short time you’ve been here?”
“He may have changed, but it’s not enough. It doesn’t change anything.”
“I never thought I’d see the day, but he cares for you—more than he has anyone in a long time.”
“He doesn’t know what it means to care for someone. He said so himself,” I said, letting my hands fall against the puffy comforter.
“He is simply a man, Hailey—one who’s spent most of his adult life alone. I will tell you this because it’s obvious you care for him. I’ve known him his whole life, and I’ve never seen anyone affect him the way you do. Don’t give up on him.”
She patted the clothes at the end of the bed and walked out without a backwards glance. I heard what she said, but I wasn’t so sure that what she said was true. Had Dominic really changed? Sure, we spent more time together and had grown close over the past month or so, but was he any different than before I came? I wasn’t so sure that even if he did change, if we changed, that it was for the better. Living with Dominic was unpredictable. I never knew if something I said would set him off, resulting in him becoming a monster again.
I spent the rest of the morning thinking about the concept of change and how shifty it was. There was no timeline for it, just simply a before and after. That’s why I always thought it was silly when couples were asked the moment they knew they were in love, because love of all things suggests that a change has happened.
Clema didn’t outright say he loved me—and if I took what he said at face value, he didn’t know what it meant to love—but it was there between the lines. Maybe Clema also didn’t believe he was capable of love, but that caring for me was the next best thing.
Deciding to take a dip in the pool, I made my way down to the basement, stopping at the bottom step as the sound of voices filled the air. There were two voices, and one was definitely Dominic’s. They were speaking down at the other end of the hall. In all the time I’d been there, even with Scout in and out of the house, I’d never heard Dominic engage in conversation with anyone that he didn’t mean for me to hear. My heart galloped in my chest as I clung to the wall, holding the folded towel high against my chest as if that could fortify me against a man like Dominic.
/> Dr. Reynolds emerged from the door first. His blonde hair was pushed back against his head, and he was dressed in freshly pressed slacks tailored perfectly to fit his thin legs. Beneath his white doctor’s smock, he wore a gray V-neck sweater that looked as cold as his eyes. He looked back into the room he exited, saying, “Your liver looks stable, but we should run the tests on her later this week.”
The towel floated to my feet as if in slow motion, while I was left frozen to deal with the fallout of this revelation. I didn’t have time to process the comment about his liver; I was too focused on the “her” of his statement.
“Mr. Cal—” They both froze in the hallway upon seeing me bowed over. My stomach tightened and throat squeezed out pants that shredded my insides. Dominic slipped Dr. Reynolds a look, and the doctor eased back into the room in which they came.
Dominic bristled, standing completely erect, showcasing his impressive stature. He took a step forward.
“Don’t.” My voice was steady, despite the vibrations that wracked my body.
“Is—is that why I’m here? You thought you’d steal me for some, some…black market organ donation?” The words spilled from my lips, my voice bordering on loosely reined hysteria.
“Answer me!” I yelled when he didn’t immediately respond.
“Hailey, calm down.”
“Calm down? Was this your plan? To make me, make me…and then carve me up like I’m nothing more than a piece of meat? You don’t deserve—” I sobbed into his chest as he rushed into me, propping me up against his body. I attempted smacking him away, beating him with fists that felt weightless against the force of his grip.
“Shhhh. I meant to tell you. I was going to tell you,” he said.
“How could you do this to me? If all you wanted me for was my liver, then why didn’t you just take it? No, you had to mind-fuck me, make me feel something.”
“I found out eighteen months ago that I have cirrhosis of the liver. I’ve tried everything, Hailey, I swear. I tried buying my way to the top of the list. I tried looking into private donors, but then I started looking into alternate means. You were in the system because you were tested after your parent’s car accident. It just so happens that you and I are a good match.” He steadied himself before continuing, “I saw you that day in Mexico. You were on the beach, and I knew I had to have you. I only need a piece of your liver. You’ll be perfectly fine aft—”
“Perfectly fine? Perfectly fine,” I scoffed. “There is nothing perfectly fine about any of this!” The tears poured freely down the cotton shirt that clung to his skin. Maybe he was the monster I always thought he was. Who could do something like this? How could he think I’d be perfectly fine with this revelation—to be used in this way, like I was nothing, like what we had meant absolutely nothing? Yes, I wanted out, but that didn’t change the fact that I fell for him. Just that morning I had questioned whether I would have passed Sampson the note had it not been for what happened on the plane.
His hold around my body wasn’t tight enough to stop me from crumpling to the floor as the weight of his words sunk in. He knelt down on one knee trying to scoop me up just as Dr. Reynolds reemerged from the depths of the room, clutching a glass of water. He placed the water at my feet as he passed me on his way to the stairs. Dominic lifted the glass to my lips, and I jerked and thrashed against him. Bits of water sloshed over the rim of the glass and landed on the concrete floor.
“Drink. You’ll feel better. Please,” he pleaded, brushing my tangled hair away from my face. He touched the rim to my lips again, and I drank. The water tasted a bit off, as if it had been sifted through a bad filter. I drank it anyway, exhausted from the toll crying had left on my body.
I felt heavy in his arms as I was rocked and lolled with every step he took. I hung on to my hate with every fiber of my being, letting it seep into my bones and rush through my blood. I found myself drifting in and out, but the same thought kept returning—I didn’t know who I hated more, myself or Dominic. He was the monster, but I was the one who opened myself up to him.
When Clema walked through the door with a bowl of chili and some toasted bread, I was only slightly relieved that Dominic hadn’t forced me to eat downstairs. At this rate, I would have rather him beat me than have to sit across from him, sharing a meal as if everything was OK. Clema placed the tray on the nightstand beside me, reminding me of my first day here.
Dr. Reynolds’s revelation told me why I was here, but I still didn’t understand what Dominic wanted out of keeping me. Was he just afraid that I would tell my story of how I became an organ/sex slave? If somebody told me that, I would think he or she was crazy. It seemed so unrealistic.
Clema stood over the table with lips that threatened to break free a litany of words. Whether they were meant to justify or soothe, I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t want to hear them. I didn’t want to hear what any of them had to say.
I was sure she knew the cat was out of the bag, and she was partly to blame in all of this. Everyone was to blame. She knew I was starting to feel something for him, all the while he was using me like some animal, taking only the parts he needed.
I stared into the bowl, steam rising off the top, bringing with it the smell of meat and spices that made my nose wrinkle. Clema’s chili was good. In fact, it was the best I’d ever had. But this chili in front of me seemed off. The smell wasn’t right, and within moments, I was launching myself into the bathroom with a face full of toilet water and this morning’s breakfast splattered in the bowl.
Gasping for air, I willed my roiling stomach to calm. Clema’s small hands rubbed across my shoulders, while I lay hunched over the toilet bowl. My stomach tightened, and I shifted on my knees holding my stomach while I waited for the next wave to hit me.
“Here, let me get you some water.”
“Don’t bother,” I managed to croak out between my upheaving stomach. I caught a glimpse of her back as she made her way back into my prison.
Kneeling forward, I flushed the toilet and closed the lid, resting my head on the cold porcelain that felt like icicles stabbing against my cheek. My loneliness hit me like a physical ache, as I lay alone on the floor of the bathroom. I wanted to remember this feeling. It was like we had come full circle—there I was again, back at square one with arms clutching the toilet like it was my saving grace. Yet, there was no one there to save me. After those tests, I was sure to be on the fast track to the carving table.
If we went through with the surgery and it was a success, I would be the sole reason that my tormentor—the man I both loved and loathed—would be alive. I felt tired in my bones, in my soul. I was tired of crying, but the tears that slipped silently down my face felt different; they felt like defeat.
“Hailey,” his voice was like an ice pick to my chest. He sounded as crushed as I felt, my name sounding broken on his lips.
“Pl-please just leave m-me alone,” I said hugging the bowl tighter with eyes still closed. With a gentle touch, he pried my fingers free and swooped me up in his arms, carrying me back into his room.
“Do you feel all right? Should I call you a doctor?”
“Why? Are you afraid my sickness is hurting your precious liver?”
“No. It didn’t cross my mind. I’m—I was worried about you.”
“You wouldn’t have to worry about me if you hadn’t kidnapped me or continuously drugged me or planned to steal my liver, you sick fuck!”
“I understand—”
“No, you could never understand what you’ve done to me. You’ve ruined me. I’m ruined!”
I shouted at him, but I didn’t even know the words coming out of my mouth. Ruined—it was the only word that seemed to penetrate the fog in my head. I felt the words on my lips, tasted them on my tongue. It was true in a sense. I was ruined. This man had changed me. Even if by some miracle I were to get free, there would be no going back for me. I would never be the same girl he took.
I giggled, thinking about my virginity. I was s
o desperate to lose it, I didn’t care to whom, and now I had lost it to the worst person I could think of. It was gone forever. He whispered my name again as I stared blankly into the hollow fireplace.
“Don’t worry. I’m not completely broken yet. You still have a little more work to do,” I said as my lips curled up in a sneer with hateful eyes peering into his. He didn’t falter, didn’t flinch away from my stare, but I felt it. He was conflicted. My words surprised him, and it showed in the way his words staggered on his tongue.
“You’re not broken, and it was never my intention to break you. Like I told you before, you weren’t really living. In fact, in the twelve months I watched you, the only time you looked alive was when you were swimming. That’s not living,” his words sounded frustrated as if he were trying to get through to me.
“And you think this is? Keeping me tucked away in a fucking room? I’m suffocating here! You’re suffocating me!” My words were forced around breaths that were quick and shallow.
Dominic dropped onto the bed next to me. His usually inquisitive eyes held a sense of panic in them. My teeth clattered and head rocked as he gripped my shoulders, shaking me as I struggled to level my breathing.
“Breathe, Hailey, breathe.”
I was breathing, overwhelmed by the amount of air that rushed into my lungs. I was a balloon drifting towards the sun, and his voice was the ribbon that kept me grounded.
“That’s it. That’s it, breathe.”
Dominic leaned in to kiss my forehead, but I pulled away in disgust.
“Don’t. I’ll never forgive you for what you’ve done to me. Why couldn’t you have been normal and reached out to me like a regular person would? I probably would have donated it to you. I might have waited until school was out, but I wouldn’t want to know someone in the world had died because I was too selfish to part with something that I have no real attachment to. If I could survive without it, then why not?”
