Savage Cinderella

Chapter 21- Dark Confessions

Chapter 21
Dark Confessions

Brinn’s mother didn’t look happy about it, but her father insisted she reveal as much detail as possible about her time in captivity. It was the only way to stop the man. To Brinn’s surprise, Cody helped more than anyone. He didn’t treat her like she was fragile. To him she was a fellow warrior. He related his experience of being captured and tortured by Taliban rebels, narrowly escaping death when a team of Marines, including Justin's brother Steve, finally extricated him and destroyed the compound where he'd been held for over two months. That was six months ago, and he was still on leave recovering from broken ribs, a ruptured spleen and a severe concussion. He didn’t talk about the counseling he was receiving—just that he was going and that it seemed to help.

Cody gave only the facts necessary for the events to be understood, as if telling the story about someone else. Brinn could now see why he treated her differently. There was no pity in his eyes, just simple comprehension of a shared wound and the need to give it time to heal.
Justin stayed close and squeezed her fingers gently, “You can do this, Brinn. It’s only words. The words can’t hurt you. You’re safe.”

Brinn looked into the strained faces of her family. Her mother’s skin was pale. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. Her father’s features were like granite, his jaw twitching with the effort to curtail his rage as Brinn described the tiny room in the decaying old farm-house.

“He left me alone for long periods—sometimes even days. There was a window, but it had bars and shutters. He kept me... handcuffed or...chained...to the bed.” Brinn winced as her mother gasped and choked back a sob, covering her mouth with both hands. 

Some details Brinn knew she would never share, not with her family, not with Justin, probably not with anyone. The ugliest moments of her life were behind her and would stay there—hidden in her soul. Yet, some part of the truth had to be told. She knew that now. She had no choice anymore but to face her past. She couldn’t hide or run away forever. Her enemy was closing in. Brinn swallowed back the bile that rose in her throat. She held back the tears as she’d learned to do as a child.

“He made me call him ‘Pa Roy’.” She couldn’t meet her father’s eyes—ashamed that she hadn’t even been able to refuse her captor’s demand that she forget her father.

“It’s all right, Brinn. I understand. You didn’t do anything wrong. Whatever you did or didn’t do, you had no choice.” He touched her hand, “I will always be your Dad.” Her father’s eyes glistened but his voice was deep and strong. He encouraged her to continue.

Brinn took in another breath and went on. “There was a root cellar behind the house.” She hesitated, catching Justin’s pained expression. She looked down at her hands. “I tried to escape a few times. He...he put me in that dark hole and left me there for days with no food or water until I was so weak I couldn’t cry anymore.” She knew her face was pale from the frightful images that loomed in her mind, but she felt the blood surge to her face with shame.

“Can you remember anything else about the property?” Her father’s question saved her from ruminating further on the ugly indignities that flashed through her mind.

“There was a barn...a slaughterhouse...” The images she’d banished from her mind surged to the surface, setting her senses on fire. The sound of his footsteps approaching, the long wooden spoon and the thick black belt he’d used to beat her, the smell of smoke, sweat, and blood that clung to him—the vivid orange glow of the end of his burning cigarette.

I will punish you. I promise.

She stared, sightless, her arms wrapped tightly across her middle, fists tucked into her ribs as she rocked back and forth.

Justin touched her shoulder. Brinn jumped. “Are you okay, Brinn?” His brown eyes were liquid with emotion and concern. “You don’t have to do this now if you don’t want to.”

The compassion and pain on his face nearly undid her. There was no denying the sorrow that lay beneath. She’d lost her innocence to a monster and it was something she could never get back. There was nothing she could do to change what had happened and there was no way she could soften the blow of the truth.

“I have to, Justin. If I don’t tell someone what he did, it’s like I’m letting him keep me locked away in that dark hole or chained to that bed.” A slow burn of resolve seeped into her chest. “I can’t let him take any more of me. I want my life back.”

A flicker of a smile lifted the corner of Justin’s mouth, despite the concern in his voice. “I get it...and I admire your courage.” His warm hand and solid strength permeated the blanket of cold around her. She’d been afraid he would never look at her the same after he knew what she’d been through. Relief swept through her when he met her glances with eyes full of compassion and admiration.

“I’m...scared, Justin.”

“I know, me too.” He held her hand gently between his. “What else can you tell us?”

Brinn darted a glance between her mother and father. “Once I stopped crying and letting him see my fear, he stopped...touching me. He beat me, but he didn’t...he couldn’t...he just left me alone.” Exhaustion hit her like a wave and her face fell into her hands. “I think he was planning to kill me before I even ran away that last time. He said there were plenty of others like me that he could have any time he wanted.” 

Her mother stood and came to her side. “I understand what you’re saying. In your own way, you stood up to him. That’s the kind of courage it will take to face him again. Can you do that, Sweetie?”

Brinn slouched numbly on the plush dark couch. Her legs remained tucked under and her palms were scored with red half moons. “I have to, don’t I? It’s the only way to end this.”

“That’s enough for now, John.” Her mother slid onto the cushion beside her and wrapped an arm around Brinn’s shoulders. She looked hard at her husband.

He nodded, let out a breath, and sat back in the chair.

A delicate hand stroked Brinn’s cheek, brushing her hair away from her face. “I know how difficult this has been for you. I’m so proud of you.” Her mother smiled through dried tears and a reddened nose. And then the smile faded, her expression growing somber again. “Everything that man said to you was a lie—do you hear me? Nothing that happened was your fault. There wasn’t anything you could have done differently; you need to believe that.” Her mother pushed aside the curtain of dark hair that shielded Brinn’s face. “Most importantly, nothing you have said changes how we all feel about you.”

A deep ache wrapped around Brinn’s heart and squeezed until tears flooded her eyes and her voice cracked with emotion. “Thank you, Mama. You have no idea how much that means.”