The Traitor ✓ (Book Six)

Chapter Thirty Six

It does not come. It's another full day before there's a sign of someone else checking on me, and now I don't have the energy to answer the door.

  At first, I hear someone descending the steps to my house. There's a few in the unnaturally loud sand, then some on my porch. The person- who I'm still assuming is my neighbor, knocks on the door. I just stare at it.

  Emily had depressive episodes, only hers weren't horrible and they didn't last very long. She'd always pull herself out, ignoring me whenever I tried to help. And she's dead..... never coming back..... oh god.....

  For what must be the thousandth time, I let the tears flow. There is nobody here but me. I learned a long time ago how unhealthy holding in your emotions is, with what it did to me.

  One time, Emily'd just finished a piece for the Governor. She put all of her energy into it for a month, wouldn't eat for ten hours at a time or leave the house, obsessed over every tiny detail. She broke down. Not because of sadness or happiness- from the exhaustion of it all.

  And now, I'm the exhausted one and we're both dead. The knocking continues incessantly for almost half an hour until it stops and I think I'm in the clear. Then when I think they've  left, that I hear steps going away- the hinge on my door gets broken.

  At first I just see her legs, then my eyes move upwards to her face. I still do not move.

  "James- Damon......" She sighs. "What am I supposed to call you? I mean...... what are you more comfortable with?"

  I furrow my eyes in confusion. Out of all questions she could've asked, I didn't think it would be that. Both bring up overwhelming pain. Damon- because it reminds me of the life I'll never be able to return to, when I was working for Lauren and Kyle and Emily and I were close to getting engaged. James- because it does the same thing, but faster.

  I stare.

  "I guess it...... really doesn't matter." These are the first words I've spoken to another human in over twenty four hours.

  "Okay Uhm...." She nods. "I'm gonna..... keep calling you Damon."

  She sits on the edge of my bed and places a hand over mine. I'm confused. She isn't yelling anymore, isn't telling me to go fuck myself even though that's what I deserve. In fact- what I deserve is to be tortured to death the same way I did to other people.

"Maria.....what are you doing?" I say, still laying down.

"After you left the apartment I started.... Reading. Reading more than what you told me. I understand how painful it may be to talk about but I have one more question. Some of the articles said..... said you were in the room a few of the times Lauren Wells Got raped. Is that.... True?"

I close my eyes. This is the thing I was the most afraid of.

"Y.... Yes." I admit.

"Okay.... Why didn't you stop them or... say anything?" She's surprisingly calm now.

I sit up. When I look into her eyes, she's just ready to listen. No judgment.

So I recount the story.

"They often used.... Rape as.... 'Corrective punishment'. I did get in the way once. Then they.... " My Heart involuntarily beats fast. Out of everything I've done, this is the second most painful. "They raped Emily instead.... With the same branding iron and forced me to watch. It went on for almost an hour until she was bleeding out of her... well, everywhere really. She didn't deserve anything that happened to her. It was..... it was all because of me...."

"No." She interrupts, stopping me. I'm glad. I've started hyperventilating. "Listen to Me. You didn't have anything more to do with her death than that father daughter duo that was forced into the group. You are a victim too."

"No-"

"Yes. You-"

"NO!!" I snap. "I could've just fucking killed myself! Then they wouldn't have had a person on the security team to kidnap the First Lady and they'd have no reason to keep Emily there!"

"You really think killing yourself would've been a solution? Seriously?" She raises an eyebrow at me. "Those people are fucking insane. They would have gotten the next guy to do it and killed emily instead. Damon.... She was doomed from the beginning,"

An inhuman sounds escapes from my lips. I have never had this discussion with anybody. Not Lauren herself, not the Guantanamo bay guards or soldiers, not that one doctor that was kind enough to help me get partial dentures (The same ones sit in my mouth now, almost ten years later) anywhere outside of the courtroom.

  And now, ten years has come to the surface. Instead of hiding it, I let it out.

And she lets me.

  Instead of pushing me away, she pulls me closer, her arms around me as I sob. The tears stain her chiffon skirt- I don't even want to imagine how much it costs, but knowing her she has five others in different colors.

  Half an hour later, after I think I've finally got it all out and they're mostly just dry cries- I remove my head from her lap.

  I look into her eyes.

  She was crying with me.

  "So...." She wipes her own tears away. "Where do we go from here?"

  In the winter before i started working for Lauren and Kyle, Emily and I got really serious. We would often have discussions about our future together, how many kids we would have, what type of wedding there would be.

  She wanted a country one in the woods. I didn't care, as long as the cake was chocolate. She agreed.

  "We..... just let life play out." I say.

  I smile at a thought, a leftover tear slipping into my mouth.

  "You could stay here for a few hours."