I notice the way he's pulled my leg, separating it from the other. My breathing is faint and jagged. His is even.

Warm air is creeping between my legs. His hands traipse their way up my calf, still rubbing and massaging. Something warm and soft brushes my leg, just above the knee. When it's gone the spot feels cold.

It was his mouth.

I tremble as his hands work their way up to my thigh. I'm about to burst with something. Some small part of it is fear. Ragged and desperate fear.

His mouth is on my thigh. I feel his tongue licking where his lips have kissed. I gasp. It's not in horror. It's in shock. He chuckles and I feel sick again.

He is gone and the air is all there is between my legs, I don’t feel his clothing pressing against my naked skin or his warmth. I don’t feel his weight on the bed at all.

"Are you ashamed of yourself?" His whispers.

I shake my head but it’s a lie. I am desperately ashamed.

"What's the worst thing that can happen right now?"

My eyes are squeezed shut. I don’t want to answer him. I know the answer but I can't say it.

"What's the worst thing?"

"You rape m-m-me." I mutter into the darkness.

"You asked me to do it. Doesn’t that change things? You said you wanted me." He says it softly.

I feel my lips curl into a sneer. I did. I asked him to. I offered myself up.

The air is cold somehow, even with the heat. I shiver. He places something on me. I feel with my fingers. It's the other side of the blanket. He's wrapped me up.

I hear his silent footsteps and the door. I am alone. I curl into a ball and grip the covers. The tears start. I pull away the blindfold.

He is there beside me, sitting in a chair beside the bed. His face is sad. I stop crying. I didn’t hear him come back in. Maybe he never left. Maybe I'm hearing things.

"Why are you crying?" He asks. I shake my head. "You don’t know do you?"

I shake my head again. He leans forward, "I would never have hurt you like that, but if I had, it wouldn’t have been the end of you. I need you to see that. You've survived everything else. So much more than any human can fathom. You think one act can destroy all the strength you have?"

I shudder from the tears and the heaving sobs. I shake my head.

His blue eyes burn suddenly. He climbs onto the bed and wraps himself around me. The warmth is a comfort.

He's insane but I think I am too.

Chapter Twelve

I wake up in the cell. He's moved me somehow and I didn’t notice.

"Stuart." I whisper.

He doesn’t answer me. I crawl along the floor, slightly disoriented. When I reach the hole in the wall my arm bumps against something.

It scratches on the floor and scares me. I jump back. I reach out slowly, terrified of what it is.

It's flat. When I get a grip on it I sigh.

It's my cell phone. I push the button to turn the power on. It shows the apple and makes a dim light in the cell.

I'm more scared with the light there, it makes shadows. I see my white robe in the light. I never even noticed it was there. My comfort in my skin is different than before.

I turn the phone when it comes on and shine the light in the hole to the room next to me. There is a bed and a toilet. His cell is much nicer than mine. I'm not angry, I'm grateful he has those things. He isn’t in the room.

I scuttle back to my corner and tuck my feet under me. My phone starts to vibrate like mad. Seventy-five messages. My eyes widen.

I start reading Shell's.

'Em, I'm so sorry. I shouldn’t have said and done that. I'm so glad I came with you. Please don’t be mad.'

'Dude, I said sorry. What do you want blood'

'Em why aren’t these delivering?"

'Did you for-reals turn the phone off?'

'I saw Sebastian today. It's been like a week since I got home and you aren’t texting me. I told him your number. I don’t even care if Uncle Daddy gets mad. Sebastian is a mess, dude. Destroyed. He is so upset. He flew all the way here to find you. From Maine dude.'

'I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE BEING SO SEFLISH AND PETTY AND IGNORING ME! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD IT IS TO TEXT AND HOLD THE CAPSLOCK?'

'Emmmmmmmmmmm don’t hate me'

'I miss you.'

'Now you're making me scared. This is fucking bitchy dude'

'Oh and Merry Christmas Asshole!'

I lower the phone. My heart burns and hurts. I start to cry. I'm so alone and desperate and I've been kidding myself. Who did I honestly think would believe I was fine? Why the hell did I ever leave that church? I could be training to be a sister with Beth.

I look around the dark and feel more lost than before. I start to feel rage burning inside of me.

I tilt my head up and shout, "I want out." I scream. "I WANT OUT YOU ASSHOLE. ELI, YOU SICK MOTHER FUCKER I WANT OUT!" I sob and lean into the wall. I almost throw the phone but I stop myself.

No one comes. My tears dry and I start reading the texts again.

'Emalyn, you are being so mean. I'm scared. Please just text and tell me you're okay.'

The next message is from me, 'She doesn’t have this phone now. Please stop texting'

'YOU SICK SON OF A BITCH IF YOU HAVE DONE ANYTHING TO HER I'LL KILL YOU WITH MY BARE HANDS!'

'I'll let her know you messaged her.'

"FUCK YOU!"

I snort.

I go back to the menu and find Sebastian's. I assume they're his. They have only a number and no name.

'Em? Is this you?'

'Sorry but I found Michelle yesterday in Clovis. I got your number. I hope you're okay with this.'

'I just wanted to say sorry. I never should have left. I've tried coming by the dorm but you're never there. The guy at the gym said he hasn’t seen you and Michelle said she hasn’t heard from you. I'm getting worried.'

'You're that angry? Michelle is getting scared. She phoned the police yesterday. You're officially a missing person. My heart is broken I think. I have so many things I need to tell you.'

'You've been missing for two weeks. I'm coming for you. I will find you.'

'She doesn’t have this phone anymore. Please stop texting.'

'Who is this? Where is she?'

'I will let her know you messaged her.'

'Where is she? If you have her or hurt her I will kill you.'

I don’t want to read the hopelessness in their messages. I look around the dark and start to plot. I guess it's another thing about the dark. It's perfect for plotting.

When I realize my plotting is petty and entirely based on superheroes and the desperate hope Sebastian is one, I sigh, and give up. I open my conversation with Eli. I can see the little writing thingy. He is messaging me as I look at it.

He is watching me. It's 1984 in so many ways.

'How are things?'

I shake my head, 'I hate you. How could you do this to Stuart and me? Why did you do this?'

'I need you to hurt and cry. I need those things from you.'

The answer is as messed up as everything else that’s happened is. I shake my head, 'You're sick. I'll never cry for you again.'

'Don't make promises you can't keep.'

I dial nine-one-one but the service is cut. The texts are working because of the wifi. I feel like an idiot. All this time he was there for me and helping me, but it was all to what end? This? Alone in a cell, flogged, beaten, humiliated? I don’t understand.

I crawl to where the hole is and lie on my side. I reach my hand through the hole and pretend I can feel the warmth of Stuart's hand against mine. There is no defense for the stupidity I am guilty of. The words of Sister Elizabeth bounce around in my head. "Nothing is ever free Emalyn. Nothing. At some point you pay for everything." I have a horrid feeling I might be paying for things I can't remember.

I fall asleep with my back to the open air of the room and my hand in the hole. It's huge for me. I have nothing left to lose. No one can hurt me more than I have already been.

My sleep and dreams are restless and chaotic. I wake with my face against the cement. I move my hand and have a small panic attack. It brings something with it from a place I've sealed of in my mind.

The hole.

I have the strangest feeling like I'm in the hole. I move my hand like I'm reaching for the sunshine. The cold cement and the darkness make me shiver. I can feel the bugs crawling on me. I scramble up and begin brushing my body off.

I hated falling asleep in the hole. My skin is crawling. My whimpers and cries fill the darkness.

I back up, scrambling and swiping at my robe. Pressing my back against the wall, I take gulps of air. I feel the walls of the corner and feel better.

"I'm not in the hole. I'm not in the hole." I shake my head. The hole had no corners.

Whatever is attached to the hole memory is fuzzy and bad. My brain shuts down. It doesn't let me see further behind the curtain than that.

I clutch my cell phone and press the power button.

The apple sign and the light make me feel better. I'm exhausted and done. I open our conversation and text.

'I want to go home. I don’t want your money and help. I just want to be free.'

'Where will you go?' His response is fast. Like he knew I would text him.

My stomach hurts when I think about it, 'Women's shelter? Convent? Anywhere I can to get away from you.'

'That's hurtful considering I am the only person in the world you have.'

'I would laugh. If I weren’t sitting in the dark smelling my own piss and feeling disturbed and disgusted at the thought of what you'll do to me next.' I look at it, read it over again and press send. My stomach hurts being so sassy.

The phone vibrates with a Facetime call. His call. I take a moment and answer it.

"Hi." He's acting like we are friends again. The anxiety is killing me. His face is bright and beautiful. It sickens me to be attracted to him. "Where will you go without me?" He sounds different than before.