He steps away from the bed and I’m suddenly so consumed with fear that he might still hurt Tank, despite me distracting him. He doesn’t do anything though, just sneers at Tank’s unconscious form as he approaches what used to be my clothes dresser. He opens the drawer and pulls out a length of rope. I scramble away from him, try to curl myself up in child’s pose, but he yanks out my leg from underneath me and binds the rope around one ankle. I kick and claw at the sheets with my hands in an effort to get away. I try everything I can to make it more difficult for him to tie me down. But my father grows tired of my antics, and I can only stare up at him in confusion as he drops the rope and pulls the knife from his pocket. I shake. He smiles and takes a step away from me, and a few more towards Tank.
He kicks Tank’s leg, toes him with his boot, and then brings the glinting silver blade to Tank’s face. The room whirls around me. The words are frozen in my throat, stuck there like a sharp piece of food that I haven’t chewed properly before swallowing. It’s only as he shoves the very tip of the knife into the corner of Tank’s mouth, and I see the first trickle of blood, that I find my voice again.
“No. I’ll let you tie me up. You can do whatever you want. Just don’t hurt him,” I cry. My father smiles like he’s won a great victory, and in a way I suppose he has, because I just laid all of my cards bare, and he’s going to take me for everything.
He wipes the knife on Tank’s shirt, and he casually strolls across the room with the ease of a man whose conscience doesn’t burden him one bit. I hold still as he picks up the rope and winds it around my ankle, tying it off in a series of complicated knots before tethering the other end to the leg of the bed with just as much skill. He tests his handiwork by pulling the length of rope that’s dangling off the bed, and with a satisfied grunt he turns and leaves the room, slamming the door behind him. The locks slide home, and my heart beats heavy with the finality of it.
I should try to rouse Tank. I should get up, and see how far my new leash will carry me before it cuts into my ankle. I should try and find a way out of here, but I can’t. I can’t move from fear and exhaustion, and the terror that has seeped a little further into my bones with every lash of his belt.
If Tank weren’t here, I’d find a way to end it. Right now. But he is here. So I need to find a way out. Before it’s too late.
I never wanted to disappoint Mummy. Daddy seemed to hurt her enough. I tried to be good. I didn’t cry when I told her mine and Daddy’s secret—the one he said we mustn’t ever tell because no one would understand. I didn’t cry, but she did. She howled like those wolves I’d seen on TV when they lost their little wolves. And then she’d squeezed me so tight I’d thought I’d explode all over the bathroom.
I’d been sent to my room then, and when Daddy came home the yelling had started. It’s still going. There’s a storm outside too, and the thunder monsters are yelling and stomping as loud as Daddy is downstairs. I cuddle under my blankets with Banjo, because he doesn’t like storms. When it rains heavy like this, we go into Mummy and Daddy’s bed and Banjo and I get cuddled, and he’s not so afraid. But no one is cuddling us tonight.
I wish I’d never told Mummy about our secret.
When my eyes get too heavy I fall asleep. My door creaking open wakes me, and I let out a tiny fearful little scream when someone sits down on my bed.
“Shh, baby it’s me,” Mummy says, and I pull back the covers and feel her tears as they splash onto my hands. “We have to be really quiet, okay? You and I are going to take a little trip.”
“Is Daddy coming too?” I whisper.
“No, sweet girl. Just you and me.” In a flash of lightning from outside the window, I see her face crinkle with pain, her eye is all puffy and closed. She pulls me from the bed and whispers, “Okay come on. Two brave girls off on an adventure—what do you say?”
I nod and she smiles, but then she starts to cry again. “Good girl. We’re gonna need to be real quiet so we don’t wake Daddy, okay?”
“Okay. But Mummy … why are we leaving Daddy behind? Won’t he be sad without us?”
“No. He doesn’t love us, baby. He wants to hurt us.” She sets me down and crouches in front of me, holding my hands in hers. “What he did to you wasn’t right. No one has the right to touch you like that, do you hear me?” I stare at her. My chest feels tight and my eyes start to leak just like hers. “Now, come on, let’s get your robe on and go.”
“But it’s raining,” I say, tugging on her hand and pointing to the window. “Shouldn’t we wait until it stops?”
“It’s just a little rain. Drizzle, baby. Nothing to worry about.”
It isn’t drizzle, though; it’s pouring down so loudly I can hear it pinging off the roof.
I let her carry me down the stairs, and I feel safe and warm in her arms. I don’t like that I upset her. I don’t like that Daddy has hurt her. I don’t like leaving in the middle of the night during a rainstorm, but I go anyway.
When we get in the car, I realise that I left Banjo behind. “Mummy, wait. Banjo.” I cry.
“We can’t go back, honey.”
“But it’s Banjo. Grandma gave him to me.”
“It’s not safe for us to go back in the house,” my mother snaps, and then she gives me another of those smiles that aren’t really happy. “I’ll buy you a new Banjo.”
I wail loudly. I don’t wanna leave my teddy behind. Mummy glances back at the house. She’s fretting the way Grandma does when I put my sticky hands on her white couches. Mummy turns and points at me. “You stay here. Do not move. Okay? I’m going to get Banjo and then we’re going to leave.”
“Okay,” I squeak through my tears.
Only she doesn’t come back to the car. And we don’t go on our secret big girl mission. I get scared of being all alone, and I think maybe Mummy needs help finding Banjo. He’s under my covers, right at the very end of my bed tucked between my sheets. I put him there because he doesn’t like thunder, and he doesn’t like it when my mummy and daddy fight, and I couldn’t cover his ears all night because I’d needed to sleep.
I wish I’d stayed asleep.
I jolt awake. I blink my eyes several times and lie quietly on the bed, wondering what woke me.
“Ivy. Babe, wake up.”
Tank.
“Oh my God, you’re alive.” I shoot up from the bed and walk as far as the rope will let me. It’s not far enough; in fact, we’re about a metre away from one another, maybe a little less if he could stretch out his legs.
Tank nods gravely. His eyes are glazed and unfocused, and he wrestles with his cuffed hand, testing the strength of the restraints.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so damn sorry,” I say, and I close my eyes against the fresh onslaught of tears.
“Babe, it’s okay. I’m gonna get us out of here.”
“How did he find you?” I ask. “How are you here?”
“Crazy and I were out on a job. I came back to the van, expecting to find that dumb motherfucker, but he was nowhere in sight. I was just about to get out and go find the little shit when your dad struck me in the neck with some kinda tranq.”
“I’m so sorry. I should have told you this would happen,” I say, and I sink to the floor and curl into a foetal position—or as much of a foetal position as I can muster with my leg tied to a bed. “I thought he’d given up. I thought if he found me he’d just take me, and be done with it. I didn’t … This is my fault, Tank. You’re here because of—”