Water (28 page)
"Don’t move; we don’t have any protection set up."
"How do you expect me to wash when I can’t move?"
"I’ll wash, Princess. You just sit there and be your charming little self." Shawn pulled up a stool next to the tub, sat down, and rolled up his sleeves. He filled a cup with bath water and poured it over my hair. As he massaged the shampoo into my scalp, I tried to relax. He scolded me for not keeping my head up. I stiffened, like a helpless child, scared to upset daddy.
Finished with my hair, he pulled off my t-shirt in one jerk and threw it aside.
"Child molester!" I squeaked.
He looked stunned at the accusation. "What?"
"Nothing," I muttered. "Just let me do it." I reached for the soapy sponge he was holding, but my movement was slow and weighted, and he was fast.
"I don’t think so." He began washing my feet, moved up my legs making small circles, and paused at my thighs. "Just consider this…foreplay."
My eyes widened, searching his face. He wasn’t joking. I glanced back toward the bedroom. The sheets on the bed were being changed and the four circles of elements were once again being set up. This time there were double the candles and double the water bowls.
Now, Micah!
I screamed out loud in my thoughts,
swoop in and save me now!
Shawn growled.
I squirmed and backed away from his hands, as far as the trough let me go. My abrupt movement in the water was answered by an abnormally strong crash of waves in the distance. Shawn quickly pinned my chest and shoulders down with his forearm. He shoved his other hand in the water, forcing my legs apart and thrusting four of his fingers deep inside me. The sudden intrusion paralyzed me.
I groaned in pain and he leaned in. "Tonight can be enjoyable for you or unpleasant for you; I’ll take pleasure either way." He leaned in closer, our lips nearly touching. "So what’s it going to be?"
Still no Micah.
Susan?
Alex?
Mom?
Dead silence, except for Shawn's breathing. Tears stung my eyes. He was waiting for my answer. I swallowed my pride, closed the rest of the distance between us, and sealed the deal with a kiss. I was in preservation mode. He accepted, forcing his tongue into my mouth, biting at my tongue and lips. Shawn hastily picked me up out of the bath and without rinsing the soap off or even dry me, he threw me on the bed. The clean sheets were instantly soaked through. He gave a gruff command in Spanish and everyone else left. The familiar whir of fans came to life.
Shawn undressed hastily while I wriggled my way to the opposite end of the bed. I wasn’t quick enough; he grabbed my ankle and pulled me toward him. "Easy way or hard way."
"Okay, okay," I conceded.
He positioned himself over me.
"Just go slow, I’m not ready yet."
"That’s too bad, because I am." With that as my only warning, he forced himself inside me. The pain of his fingers was nothing compared to this. His first thrust tore me apart. It only got worse – he kept pounding into me, ripping me open, invading me with increasing vigor. I had to give up trying to push him off of me and instead braced myself, using my hands to avoid being crushed into the headboard. My thighs, still slippery with soap, were no help in slowing him down. Never before had I felt so used; like I wasn’t even human, just an object. Worse – his object.
The shock helped me to disconnect from the situation. I tried riding the waves of pain, floating on top instead of sinking under. Both of his hands closing around my throat pulled me back. He squeezed harder, and my vision began to go black.
Yes
, I thought.
Pass out, spare yourself the pain.
He let go, laughing. Everything burned. I tried once again floating above it, willing my body to go numb, but Shawn continued to pull me back.
When I couldn’t hold out any longer, I let out another silent cry for Micah.
Shawn slapped me, hard. "Get this through your pretty little head right now. He will never find you."
I gritted my teeth, looked Shawn in the eyes, and called for Micah again.
Growling, Shawn pulled back and flipped me onto my stomach. "Then go ahead and hope, Kaitlyn. Hope that this night ends soon." He spread my cheeks and with one, brutal thrust, pierced me where I had never before experienced, and hoped to never again. One hand held me tightly at the waist, pulling me into him, while the other kept my head pinned down. This time the pain was too much to ignore. I felt every tear and heard every grotesque sound. The only reprieve was that I didn’t have to endure the sight of his face, grunting and smiling in his own ecstasy. I bit the pillows to keep from screaming, or crying, or maybe both. He finished with one final, deep lunge that I thought would never end, and then collapsed over me, his heavy breathing smothering my own.
"Get off of me." I used my elbow to wrench him out of the way, gasping for fresh air. I tried moving away but my battered body wouldn’t allow it.
"Want me to get some mud for it?" Shawn slapped my behind, laughing at his own crass joke in between heaving breaths.
"You can
get
me off this island. Make it a fair fight and I’ll show you how it feels." I grabbed a candle, aiming at him.
He slapped it away easily, lazily. "You are always so witty, aren’t you?"
"The real question is, have you always been so bitty?" I glanced at his ‘southern region’.
Shawn scowled, then stormed out of the room. "Enjoy your wet sheets tonight; I’m going to sleep in my dry tent."
Barely holding it together, I let the tears flow as soon as he left my sight. I curled into a ball to make myself as small as possible under the sheets. I felt dirty, ashamed, powerless, and insignificant. I hated myself. I fought back, trying instead to direct my anger toward him. Slowly, I pulled myself out of the wreck that I was, and took a deep breath. As much as I needed sleep, I had work to do that couldn’t have been done with him near me. I started the next step to my plan by rubbing abrasively at my arms, making myself look as bad as I felt.
Unpleasant Conversations
The next morning I woke a battered and bruised mess, inside and out. Pain coursed throughout my body, stealthily infiltrating every nook and cranny. My aching bones and sore muscles were barely held together by my rash-covered outer shell. I had spent the majority of the night rubbing myself raw, trying to prove a point about using water from the island. Besides, the rubbing helped to fight off a creeping sense of despair that kept edging its way into my mind. Each time it did, panic and guilt were not far behind.
Focus
, I kept telling myself.
Rub harder.
Mid-morning Shawn brought in something for me to eat. After one look at my arms he quickly withdrew the meal, "What’s that?"
"That, is called an arm."
He huffed, "Why is that
arm
so red?"
"Gee Shawn, maybe it’s from your gentle touch last night, or maybe from the water I wanted to avoid. It does go nicely with my legs." I pulled up the sheets to show him similar rashes on my legs. "Which, in turn, complements my back, and my stomach, and …well, you get the point."
"Yes, I do. Our Princess has sensitive skin. If that is the case then I’ll have the food and water imported. But, you’ll have to wait for it. I can’t feed you this, now. It is local. I might be able to get something in by tomorrow." I did my best to give Shawn a convincing frown as he walked out with the tray. He came back several minutes later with the penguin under one arm. He set both the tray and the penguin down and let that little bastard eat right in front of me. That did produce a genuine frown.
Shawn came over and made himself comfortable on the bed. I edged away from him as much as possible. He leaned back on his elbows and crossed his legs, watching the penguin make a mess of the fruit bowl.
I fought back the anxiety his mere presence caused, cleared my throat and blurted out a question, "What happened to Susan?"
"Susan was kept underwater until we could take you out but trust me; she knows how to survive there."
"So it was you? You caused the wave?" I looked at him in disbelief. There was no way he was that good.
"I have caused a lot of things."
"For example..." I prodded him on.
He turned and studied me for a minute, deciding how much information he should share. "For example, the greenhouse training exercise, the trip to Spain, and even your girl’s night out."
"Does Susan or Micah know it was you?" I prompted the conversation further. Listening to him talk was, by far, the most preferable interaction I've had with him thus far.
"I’m sure Susan may have guessed by now, considering I disappeared when you did. Last I heard Micah had still not awakened. You certainly did a number on him," Shawn gave me a sideways glance.
My thoughts went back to the incident on the boat and another realization dawned on me, "You caused that, too?! I knew it wasn’t me, it couldn’t have been." I was almost smiling with delight in the knowledge that I hadn’t screwed it up after all.
The corner of Shawn's mouth turned up, "You guys are too easy to pit against each other."
"Except for the fact that when Micah wakes up, he will look for me. And Shawn…" I forced him to look at me, "He
will
find me."
"Maybe, but will Princess still be alive? Time is not on your side."
I interrupted the tick-tock sound Shawn was making with a new line of questioning, "So do they know about your little clubhouse here?"
He laughed, "Nope. I maintain it under the pretenses of a lab. I built it years ago. Every time Cato sent me off on one of his stupid missions I was able to sneak away a few days to be here, getting things up and running. Bringing back pieces of the island with me, rocks, sand, or whatever, I could maintain my strength and grow my powers."
"Grow your powers? What for?" I scoot even further away from him.
"I'm absorbing the same magic Gaias have. Cato did it, though it took him years. I'm going to do it faster. Soon, there will be no need for a Gaia."
"Goodie for you, but I’ll give up my powers just as willing as I gave myself up last night."
He shrugged his shoulders, "I figured. You can fight it but in the end I’ll get my way – just like last night." He patted my bottom as a reminder as he scooted himself off the bed. "Now if you’ll excuse me; I must go prep for surgery."
I fought back the bile that rose in my throat. He was right. Very little was going my way. I took a deep breath in and ran through a mental list of anything at all that could help me. On the top of the list were, of course, my powers. But would Shawn know if I were to use them, and could he block them?
No time like the present to find out.
Shawn had walked out of the room and disappeared from view. The penguin was still finishing off my meal, looking up every few minutes to squawk at me. Mustering any energy at all was difficult, much less conjuring enough for magic. But it was there, within me. It came in short bursts, sliding from my grasp too easily. After a few minutes of struggling to keep hold of something substantial, I sent it directly out toward the penguin. It went out slowly, and after crossing the circle of elements it sputtered, some of it disappearing in a flash and some petering out like a dying flame. When what was left of the energy reached the penguin, it was so light the penguin treated it as a fly, swatting it away with one black, shiny wing. Shawn, however, must have caught wind. He appeared almost immediately with narrowed eyes.
"Tsk, tsk, Princess. We’ll have none of that." He stomped toward me. I wanted to shrink back into the bed away from him, but forced myself not to. I didn’t want to give him the pleasure.
Before he even crossed the outer circle of fans, I sensed his energy stream, and it was powerful. Had I not already been lying down, it would’ve knocked me on my ass. As it was, it took the wind out of me, literally. An invisible, 400 weight sat on top of my chest, and I struggled to breathe. Shawn, with his icy blue eyes wider than normal, leaned over me and had a long grin on his face, "This will be your last and only warning – no powers." I tried to speak but couldn’t. Shawn’s face went blurry. Laughter rang in my ears as I blacked out.
* * *
I tried cracking my eyes open but the intruding light was painful. I moved to rub the stabbing sensation out of my eyes, but found my hands to be bound tightly in place. I struggled a little more and immediately heard several shouts of caution in Spanish. My chest still hurt; sharp spasms bolted through my ribs every time I inhaled. I opened my eyes again, this time slower, allowing my pupils to adjust to the light. I was lying face down on a hard table. I lifted my head and saw the room and the canopy bed without its usual occupant – me. Looking around, there were several of the native men surrounding my table but keeping their distance. I tried wriggling my hands free and heard more shouts. My feet were bound too, but there wasn’t much I could do about that just yet. The rope around my wrists was hastily knotted; as if tied by someone anxious to be done with the task. The men were stepping toward me, then backing up and holding their hands in the air motioning for me to stop. I cursed at them under my breath and sped up my attempts. The same sense of helplessness and foreboding images of the previous night – only this time with an audience, added fuel to the fire.
