Roll For Initiative

62. Cassie

I feel like I am hovering above my body, watching this scene play out. I try to draw in a breath, but it is shaky. I can’t speak. Theo is assuming it is because I am ecstatic about the ring. It’s huge. Any woman would be honored to get a ring this size, but not me. It is my own metaphorical ball and chain, a forever prisoner.

He pulls me toward him, spinning us to face the mirror with my back against his chest. He wraps his arms around my stomach and pulls the blanket down, exposing me to him. He uses one hand to run his fingers through my hair. I tense from fear of the inevitable pain that will come. He trails kisses along my neck and shoulder. My stomach is getting more and more nauseous with each touch of his lips. We lock eyes through the reflection of the mirror.

“Look how perfect we are together, Cassandra.” He nuzzles against my neck and runs his other hand along my lower stomach. “You were made for me. I can’t wait for you to be pregnant. Our babies. How many should we have? 4? 5?”

I can’t help the look of disgust that crosses my face. It is only a flicker of a second before my mask of lies slips back into place, but it’s no use. He saw the look. Darkness takes over his eyes, and my stomach turns sour. This is going to hurt. He spins me around to face him.

"What the fuck is that look for. Don't you want a family? A future?" He grabs me by the throat and shoves me back against the dresser. "The only way you get that is with me. Don’t you understand? I’m the only one who can give you the life you deserve. I’m the only one who loves you." I don’t have any fight left in me to argue.

"Yes, Sir. I’m sorry. Please. I’m so sorry. We can have as many as you want." I raggedly gasp out. This appeases him, and he releases my throat before kissing me on the forehead.

"I forgive you. But you'll do well to learn your manners. Now, get in the shower. I have to make a few calls, and then we can discuss dinner plans for tonight to celebrate." He pats me on the ass to hurry me along, and it takes everything in me not to swing at him.

I head into the master bathroom and shut the door. I don’t dare lock it anymore. I made that mistake the day before yesterday, hence the slash marks on my inner thighs. I honestly don’t know how I am still functioning. My entire body is shaking from the anxiety and stress. My wounds can’t even begin to heal before they are reinjured. I don’t understand how he hid his psychopathic tendencies so well. He is completely unhinged, and I’m the center of his obsession.

As I stand in front of the mirror and glance at my naked form, the urge to throw up grows more and more. Another hidden thing about Theo that I have learned is he has a sick obsession with making me bleed. Some of the whips have barbs on them. I have cuts everywhere. None deep enough to need stitches except for the ones on my inner thighs. Most are deep enough to scar. My once flawless skin is now plagued with slashes. My confidence is gone. Just one more thing he has ripped from me. I can’t stand to look any longer. My stomach rolls with nausea, and tears threaten to fall.

I step into the shower; the hot water feels cathartic. I told myself I wouldn’t cry anymore, but I feel so defeated right now—no control over my life or my body. I lean my battered body against the tile and slide down until my knees are clutched to my chest. I finally give in to the tears. My sobs are coming out choked, and my head is pounding from the pressure that has been building. I glance down at my legs, resisting the urge to throw up. I will be tainted by his touch forever, even if I do manage to escape. Theo told the doctor I was in a car accident, and honestly, I don’t look far off from that.

Inside, I feel empty, numb, and on the brink of death, like a baren desert with not a hint of life. This morning, I was holding onto a sliver of hope that I might be able to escape, but now that hope is shattered. He is going to take me to Europe, and I’ll never see my family or friends again. This makes me think of Lucian, and the pain is unbearable. I never got to say goodbye. I won’t be at his funeral. I won’t ever hear his laugh or feel his strong arms wrapping me in a hug. My stomach turns, and I start heaving. The only thing that comes up is stomach bile. I barely ate this morning, only able to choke down a few bites to appease him. The taste of the bile burns in my mouth, causing me to gag and heave harder. Tears and snot flow down my face. The hot water pelts my body, helping wash everything down the drain. I don’t want to keep living. If I stay with Theo, either I’ll slowly succumb to insanity, or he will one day snap even further and end up killing me.

Glancing around the shower, I spot his razor. I’ve never contemplated suicide, but looking at that razor is causing my head to spin. It’s as if a beam of light is shining onto it, showing me my way out. The only thing that I am able to control. I stand and grab the razor. It’s a nice one too. One of the old-fashioned straight razors. It’s sharp. It should cut through with ease. I poke my head out of the shower to listen for Theo. It sounds like he went back to his office. I can hear him arguing with someone, probably over the phone or on Zoom. I have to hurry.

Should I leave a note? No, that would only waste more time. Once I’m dead, my body and everything about me will be disposed of. He has the power to make that happen. Which is why I know I can never outrun him. He has made it clear he will follow me to the end of the earth to keep me. I am his. I step back under the stream of water. Ok, Cassie. Just fucking do it. It’s either this or keep being his punching bag until he inevitably kills you.

Damnit, choose!