Lace

30

Trigger warning*** mentions of minipulation and suggestive rape

Lace P.O.V: 

I woke up warm. The raging fire in my bones, tamed by a few medicated drugs. But I hated it; the lie of comfort. I'd rather feel the pain and cry for days than live in a stimulated world in which pain could slowly fade in. its an addictive world, teaching us to cover our pains rather than learn to overcome it. much like the luxary of freedom. Its an illusion that allows us cover the oppression in society rather than face the challenges head on.

Even when bound to the streets for years, living under no rules, living as my own person. I was never free.

"Lacey..." a voice called. I sat up quickly in response only to be pulled down once more. A groan sounded beside me and only then did I notice the sleeping beast that laid in my den.

Heat crept onto my cheeks at the sudden realisation of our position. I was on him. Like a baby I rested on his chest. Close. We were so close.

Even though he was still fully dress. Wearing his black shirt (his sleeves were folded until his elbow and first few buttons popped open). He hadn't changed since I last saw him. Had he stayed here the whole time? The thought brought fire to my already burning cheeks.

I wanted to look up at him, but I couldn't bring myself to do so. I felt ashamed. My moment of dependence and vulnerability embarrassed me more than id ever imagined.

Why did I have to ask him to stay? why did he stay?! And why the bloody hell am I so happy about it?

As much as I hate to admit it, its true. The idea of him waiting with me when I needed him left a tender spot of endearment inside of me. I hated it: the wonderfully unnatural feeling that left me questioning everything.

"you're awake." I felt a soft rumbling vibration under me as the beast spoke. I had nothing to say. He wasn't greeting me. Nor was he asking me something, yet still I felt obligated to respond. So, I acknowledged with a hum.

"Lacey." Another voice called again. The same one from earlier. I shot up again, with no restraints this time and felt a hull ache from the sudden movements. "Lace!" the voice called again, with more urgency this time.

"Riley." I let out in a breath when I noticed his slump figure leaning against the door. Oh Riley... I felt tears well up in my eyes as a wave of newly evoked emotions swarmed me. He's okay...

"You're okay." I whimpered, reaching out my hands, awaiting his embrace. It never came.

"against the rules princess." Soren out into my line of vison. He looked well, with the exception of the clear bags under his eyes, bruised cheek and bandaged wrists. Just besides the open doors, underneath the brightness reflecting off him from the opened window across, he stood tall—defensively, twirling my little pocket knife between his fingers and slowing it down ever so slightly when the blade twirled to Riley's direction.

"Soren." I greeted breathlessly, waiting for him to come closer, but he didn't. He stood guard; legs parted, hands folded and head held high. He nodded in response, a reaction rather unlike him. For the time being, I decided to pay no heed to it.

Right now, my focus is set on Riley. With that in mind I tried to wake up, only to be held down by a masculine hand tightening around my waist.

"Erebu—"

"Your leg's broken Lace, you're not allowed to strain your leg for the next two weeks."

"But—"

"Soren, take our guest back to his room. the deal has been met."

"Yes boss."

The room was in turmoil. Things were happening so fast, that it felt as though it was a storm. A tornado. A mess of words floating around the room. the meanings: uncommendable. The purpose? illiterate.

"Riley!" my voice sounded desperate. "Riley..."

"You need to rest Lace." Soren forced Riley to turn. The blade in his hand, limply hovering Riley's back. "Lace..." Riley called out restlessly.

I felt pathetic... bound by no reinforcements to a bed with no chains, unable to help... to go to my friend, my brother... my partner in need. "Erebus, no!" with my pride aside, I begged. Grabbing onto the beast's arm I pleaded to him with my eyes. It made me feel weak, like a shadow of the person I was... the whole situation gave me a sense of déjà vu, of a time in which I was helplessly begging for Riley at my side.

"no, where's he going?" I asked Mr. Hendrix. I didn't want Riley to leave... to leave me alone. Especially not with these people. Kindness seemed far from genuine, and more redundant if anything.

Our first warning should have been when they came to us—nobody ever voluntarily came up our help. Then they offered us food, kindness then shelter. Their behaviour was off setting from the beginning but Riley said that it would be fine. We needed it anyway. Spring was nearing and with that came the rain, a distasteful weather to endure without a roof over your head.

So, we accepted. They took us to a house, then formally introduced themselves as Mr. and Mrs. Hendrix. They claimed to work for a larger organisation (one which I should have asked more questions about, at the time) then proceeded to introduce us to the rest of our housemates. They were street kids like us, but all older than I was.

The first two days were fine, I got to know the rest of the people and made a friend: Poppy, a tall, skinny little redhead. She said that it wasn't her real name. None of the girls used their real names (that should have been my second warning). At the time I was so engrossed in the idea of a new friend that I allowed my gut instinct to lay dead.

"Riley?" I questioned when I received no answer.

"Don't worry Lace, it's just a little boy's initiation." He brushed off my concern.

"Can I come?" I didn't want to be alone with this people... even while dormant, my gut instinct roared danger.

"Don't worry little Lis," Mrs Hendrix appeared behind me. She walked close by and let her hand rest softly over my shoulder, "We'll take good care of you." Her hand began to move slowly down the length of my arm and found itself in the dip of my waist. The action made me shiver, but in in a sense of delight.

"Riley, please stay with me." I asked again. Desperation lacing my quivering voice whilst I felt the older woman rub smaller circles over my waist.

"Don't worry little Lis, my wife will take good care of you." He smiled, and lead Riley out of the room. I cried out Riley's name, begging Mrs Hendrix to let me stay with Riley.

I felt the room begin to spin, and turn into a tornado of turmoil. The feeling made my skin crawl, the hairs on the back of my neck to stand and bile to rise up my throat.

Later that night when Riley returned, he was wasted. For the first time I slapped him, then cried away my desperation in his arms. I wonder if he even remembers what happened that night. How I was ready to leave him, or how Poppy dragged him out the door and helped us leave.

But one thing's for sure, the moment I walked out that door I was no longer the same person I was when I entered.

"Lace—"

"No." 

***

okay, so full disclosure... im not very confident about this chapter, so i would really appreciate some feedback. 

And I would really like to knw what youll think about the story so far. (at this point, im begging to know) 

If you like this book so far, please vote, and if you don't then please let me know how to improve it. 

till next time, 

make good choices! 

~Virgo.