Every day for 23 days, Dr. Stevens visited Ivy in that solitary room taking advantage of her on a consistent schedule. He'd then force her to eat, sponge bathe her, and he'd leave.
"I can't live like this," Ivy exploded on the 23rd day. She was sick of him touching her, she'd long lost her appetite, and she didn't want to bathe.
"Like what," his head tilted in confusion as he sponged her back.
She wasn't about to explain the obvious. She turned and scratched him high on the cheek aiming for his eye. By now he'd learned to move his head and hold her arm. His other scratches were still visible.
"Ivy, try to see the beauty in this! You have it good here. I take care of you. I serve you foods packed with the nutrients that a fetus needs. I gave you a TV. You get your own private toilet. You've basically got your own little apartment and what's better? You don't have to work. Don't be so ungrateful."
"Ungrateful?"
Ivy wondered every day about Ivan and if he ever looked for her. How would he ever find her? He probably quit the second she stopped responding.
"Eat something," he ordered after the bath. There was a basket of fruit, a platter of veggies, and a pack of water on the table with a smoothie as another option to tempt her, but she was determined to let herself waste away. "If not for you, then for the fetus."
What fetus, she wondered. She didn't even know if she was pregnant. They'd run no tests. Besides, even if she were it was entirely too early to worry about it.
He grabbed the smoothie and stuck in the straw forcing it between Ivy's dry lips. "Drink it," he whispered ominously not leaving until he saw it rise through the straw. He'd long proven his hunger for violence. It seemed the idea of her carrying a baby was her only saving grace.
"YOU CAN'T KEEP ME LOCKED IN HERE YOU PSYCHO," Ivy yelled on day 24 banging on the sealed door as a plastic container of vitamins slid through a low slot in the door. She tried to catch Erik's hand through the hole, but he sealed it back so quickly. Her back hit the door and she slid down to rest her head in her hands. "THIS IS ILLEGAL," she yelled.
"Who gone stop me," Erik asked from the intercom. "Ain't nobody showed up at my door YET. Where are all your friends, Ivy? Your professional team, family, associates? You think they know you? You think they really care? Poor baby they left you here.. alone.. with me.. to die. I'm the one still here. You and me baby! Baby makes three!"
"I'm not listening to this," Ivy rocked covering her ears tightly. She felt like she was losing it. He was determined to keep pushing this narrative and she refused to believe it. She'd done a good job staying sane so far.
"They don't give a fuck about you really. Denita texted you. Molly texted you. Raquel and then some people who I actually don't know. I told one you checked into rehab and wouldn't be able to contact her. She congratulated you. What does that tell you? I texted back the most basic of messages and they can't even tell it's not you," he laughed. "They may as well be talking to anybody. You're not special to them, Ivy. But us? You and me? We could be a family."
That fact hurt more than being trapped. She had a phone full of contacts. Work and associates. No one checked in? No one wondered why she fell off? No one called the police? She'd been m.i.a. for nearly a month. It didn't make sense that her boss or coworkers wouldn't think that it was strange. There would be disciplinary action at the least. He had to be lying. Ivy punched the door with all her strength wishing it was Erik. She tried to break it down with her fists and when that didn't work, her shoulder.
"Stop that shit before you hurt my baby," he replied.
"FUCK YOUR BABY. I DON'T WANT IT!" She rammed her full body into the door again and again, stomach first.
Charging into the room, he gripped her, lifting her off the ground and pinning her back to the bed. She felt significantly weaker than before. Afterall, she hadn't been eating or moving much.
"You try that one more time I'll tie you to this bed and leave you here until my child comes. Then I'll choke the shit out you and bury you under this room."
Too tired to fight, Ivy laid there exhausted. He towered before backing off.
"Dumb bitch," she heard him whisper under his breath. He turned back once to see her in the same spot watching him make his exit, locking her in again from the outside.
"Eat something," he ordered from the intercom. "Drink the water.. Take your vitamins.. and I'll consider letting you go after this baby."
It was empty words to Ivy. She didn't believe anything he said but what other hope did she have? Hesitantly she sat up and stared at the table of produce, MSNBC on the TV. Despite her inner turmoil she caved and took the berry smoothie.
"And the green vegetable," he prompted.
Ivy dipped the precut florets of broccoli into the chilled cup of ranch and ate it.
"The vitamin."
Ivy rolled her green eyes with a great sigh before taking it with a sip of mineral water.
For the rest of the day it seemed that her reward was silence. He didn't speak nor did he enter the room again to violate her. The next day was the same. She ate the food, drank the water, took the vitamins, and he left her ass alone. He must've decided that she was pregnant so there was no further need to touch her in that way. That also meant that as long as he believed Ivy to be pregnant, he wouldn't torture her. It was interesting information for Ivy.
