“Mummy will fix it, Eli. Mummy will fix everything.”

Crack.

I wail. The pain is unlike anything I’ve felt before. It hurts more than when she cut my arm or when she chained me with the cuff.

“Stop…” I crawl to the corner on all four, shaking all over.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

She goes on and on… and on.

A sticky warm liquid travels down my spine and drips onto the floor.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

My eyes flutter closed and a tear falls down my cheek.

I’m sorry, Elsa. I won’t keep my promise.

29

Elsa

I listen to Aiden’s retelling of that day.

Every word and every sentence is like being stabbed in the gut. It’s like being cut open and left bleeding on the ground beneath us. It’s like being in the middle of an earthquake, buried alive.

We sit side by side on the cold ground without touching. Aiden hasn’t looked at me once since he started talking.

His gaze is lost in the distance as if he’s seeing the events play out in front of him. As if my mother is right there, whipping a small child until he bled and passed out.

He’s watching the corner as if he can see himself; weak, small, and defenceless.

The moment he stopped talking, heavy silence engulfs the room.

Frightening silence.

Earth-shattering silence.

I pull my knees to my chest and resist the urge to hide and cry.

I won’t do that.

This is Aiden’s memory, not mine. He was the one who suffered, not me.

I turn away from him because I know I won’t be able to hold on for long, and I don’t want him to see me breaking.

“Then what happened?” I ask in a small voice.

“That part belongs to you,” he says. “I won’t force you to remember.”

“Okay.” A long breath heaves out of my lungs. “Okay,” I repeat because apparently, my mind is caught in a loop.

“Elsa?”

I’m still facing away from him, so my expression isn’t visible. Is there a way to dig a hole to bury myself in?

“What is it, sweetheart?”

My chest thunders with explosions and sparks when he calls me that. How can he call me that after what happened? How can he look at my face, let alone be with me when I’m so much like her?

His tormentor.

His torturer.

“Elsa, look at me.”

“I can’t. I just can’t, Aiden.” I choke on the words. “What if you eventually hate me? What if one day you wake up and realise you’re sleeping next to a monster?”

“That will never fucking happen.”

“How do you know that? How can you be so sure?”

“Look at me,” he repeats, but this time it’s a low, deep order.

I wipe my cheeks and turn to face him. The depth of longing in his eyes takes me by surprise.

Oh, God.

“Aside from the first time you stepped into RES, I never saw you as your mother.” He takes my hand and cradles it between his strong ones. “You’re the little girl who brought me food and drinks and her annoying Maltesers. You’re not the red woman.”

A sob tears from me, hanging in the air like an axe. “What about in the future? What if you change your mind?”

“Never, sweetheart. Do you know why?” He wipes the tear under my lid and strokes the corner of my eye. “While you look so much like her, you don’t have her empty gaze or her haunting voice. As long as you have this spark in your eyes, I’ll always recognise you as my Elsa.”

Something lifts off my chest even when my heart is being ripped open, bleeding about what happened to him.

I peek at him through my wet lashes. “Can I ask you something?”

He makes an affirmative sound.

“Was I violent back then? I mean, don’t some children that age show signs of antisocial behaviour?”

“Hmm. You weren’t violent per se, but you didn’t forgive injustice. You were obviously a lonely child like me, and that’s precisely why we connected. The difference between us is that you found trouble in controlling and directing your energy. It’s like you were trapped in a reality you couldn’t accept.”

“And you figured all that out back then?”

“No. I studied over the past years.” He taps the side of his head. “This one isn’t empty.”

“Obviously.” I smile a little. “I bet it’s crowded in there.”

“You’re welcome to take a tour any time.” He winks. “Just know it’s not free.”

I smile at the amusement in his tone. “What currency do you accept?”

“Something simple. Sex.”

I push my shoulder against his jokingly. “Does your mind always go there?”

“With you, yes.” He lowers my hand to his trousers and wraps my fingers around an unmistakable bulge. A groan escapes his throat at the contact.

“Here?” I gasp, lowering my voice as if someone can hear. “This is like a torture chamber.”

“We had good memories in it, too.” He grins and his cock hardens beneath my hand. “We can make them better if you open that mouth for me.”

I can say no.

I mean, even he would understand. We were supposed to come here so I’d recoup my memories not so I would suck him off.

However, my mouth doesn’t act as my brain thinks.

There’s this overpowering need to bring him pleasure after all the pain he experienced.

I scramble to my knees in front of him and cup him harder through his jeans. The grunt of pleasure is all I need to carry on. I remove his belt and flip open his jeans with frantic movements. The moment I free him from his boxer briefs, Aiden captures both my hands in one.

“What?” I pant, confused. “I thought you wanted my lips around your dick?”

“And I still do. First, lie down.”

“Why?”

“Do it,” His authoritative tone is hard and raspy.

The air around us ripples with static and pent up desire while I do as I’m told, not sure where he’s going with this.

“Remove your underwear. Do it slowly so I can watch.”

The way he orders me makes me all hot and tingly. Why do his commands turn me on this much?

Hooking my fingers on either side of my boy shorts, I drag them down my legs as slow as I can, getting drunk on the sinful way he watches me. He’s like a predator, ready to jump and feast on my flesh.

Once the underwear hangs from my fingers, Aiden extends his hand. “Now, give them to me.”

I do, and he places them in his pocket like they always belonged there.

Why on earth is that so hot?

Still keeping eye contact, he yanks down his jeans and boxer briefs.

The view of his hard, throbbing cock causes my own thighs to quiver.

He runs a hand from the base of his dick to the top. I’m so enchanted by the view, my mouth parts.

“You’re going to wrap those lips around my cock, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

I nod absentmindedly, watching the streak of precum glistening at the tip of his cock. I want to lick that, suck it, and swallow it whole.