Chapter 5
949 Words
Life went on like that, twisted and reeking of blood.
Outside, I put up with every dirty look and every insult. But once I returned to that cramped basement room, Lucian was waiting for me. He obeyed my every word and let me hit him, curse him, and take out all my pain on him.
My need for control had never been more fully satisfied, yet I felt increasingly suffocated.
Because I was exhausted.
Rita, the floor manager at the bar, was a petty tyrant. She saw that I was pretty but had no one to protect me, so she always dumped the most difficult, sleaziest customers on me.
That night, a trust-fund heir named Preston Hayes came to the private room. In their circle, he was known for playing rough.
"Well, well. If it isn't Miss Mercer."
Preston reeked of alcohol. He threw a thick stack of cash onto the table, at least 50,000 dollars. His gaze crawled over me, slick and venomous, like a snake.
"I heard you aren't doing so well now. Keeping some pretty boy at home to live off you, are you?"
The private room burst into laughter.
"Isn't that Lucian Blackwell, the one she stabbed? Damn, Miss Mercer has unusual taste. She treats a ruined man like treasure."
"Evelyn Mercer, right? Come on. Finish this whole bottle of Royal Salute for me."
He pointed at the 1.5-liter bottle of liquor on the table and smiled obscenely.
"Finish it, then spend the night with me. All this money on the table will be yours. That has to be better than going home to serve that useless man, right? Hahaha!"
I stared hard at the bottle on the table. Hidden inside my sleeve, my fingers clenched until the knuckles turned white.
My nails dug deep into my palms.
A year ago, a man like Preston would already have had a bullet hole in his head. Back then, "endure" was not a word in my dictionary.
Despite myself, Lucian's pale, fragile face flashed through my mind, along with the thin streak of blood he had coughed onto a tissue in the middle of the night.
He only had me.
He looked so helpless, so fragile.
If I caused trouble and went back to prison, he would starve to death in that dark, damp basement room.
I drew in a deep breath, then forced myself to take another.
I forced down the killing intent churning in my chest.
I forced a smile that looked worse than crying and reached for the bottle, which was thicker than my forearm.
"Mr. Hayes is joking. I will drink."
"That's more like it." Preston patted my face smugly. "If you had been this obedient earlier, wouldn't everything have been easier?"
The liquor poured down my throat like countless blades, slicing wildly through my esophagus and stomach.
I drank too fast and choked until tears streamed down my face.
The laughter and whistles around me swept over me like a tide and drowned me.
I didn't know how I finished it. I only remembered rushing into the restroom with one hand on the wall and vomiting a mouthful of bloody acid.
My stomach burned like fire.
That night, Preston's bodyguards finally threw me out of the back door of the bar like trash.
Because even after I finished the liquor, I refused to leave with him no matter what.
Like a stray dog that had been beaten half to death, I dragged myself back to the ruined basement, one painful step at a time.
When I pushed open the door, Lucian was pacing anxiously by the entrance.
The moment he saw the mud all over me, my torn clothes, and the blood at the corner of my mouth, he rushed over and pulled me into his arms.
His body was trembling.
"Evie! What happened? Who did this?"
For the first time, his voice carried a cold, out-of-control tremor.
I looked at his frantic face, and all the grievances, pressure, and anger I had swallowed for months exploded at once.
"Are you happy now, Lucian?" I screamed. "Because of a worthless man like you, I had to be humiliated out there like a dog. When has Evelyn ever been insulted like this? Why don't you just die? Why are you still alive, dragging me down?"
I grabbed the glass from the table and hurled it at his forehead with all my strength.
Bang.
The glass shattered on impact.
Blood instantly streamed down from the corner of his forehead and blurred half his face.
He didn't dodge. He didn't wipe the blood away.
He only looked at me with red-rimmed eyes and walked toward me one step at a time. Then he dropped heavily to his knees with a thud.
He hugged my leg tightly and buried his blood-and-tear-streaked face against my knee.
He cried like a child who had lost the whole world.
"I'm sorry... Evie, I'm sorry... It is all because I am useless. It is all my fault..."
His tears mixed with blood and rubbed warmly against my pant leg, leaving mottled marks behind.
"Hit me. Kill me if you need to vent. But please, don't chase me away. Don't abandon me... I only have you, Evie. I really... only have you..."
Seeing him brought so low, I raised my hand to slap him, but in the end, I couldn't make myself do it.
I collapsed onto the cold floor and held his broken body in my arms.
At last, I burst into tears.
I had thought I was the one in control.
But in this cramped basement room, I had become a prisoner, locked tight by life and by him.
- Writer
