In Death 14 - Reunion in Death

he does it to them, and they don't cry or beg him to stop unless he starts hitting them. But I don't like to hear it."
    She covered her ears with her hands. "He doesn't bring them back very much. Then it's not safe. Sometimes he's drunk, drunk enough. But not always. When he's not, he hurts me. He hurts me."
    Unconsciously she pressed a hand between her legs and rocked. "If I can't hold it back, if I cry, if I scream, if I beg, he hurts me more. This is what you're supposed to do. You better learn, little girl. Pretty soon you're gonna earn your goddamn keep. You remember what I told you."
    She looked at Roarke, looked through him, then took a staggering step forward. She didn't see the poppies now, or the pretty flowers, the pale, clean rug.
    "I'm so cold. I'm so hungry. Maybe he won't come back. But he always comes back. Something bad could happen to him so he couldn't come back. Then I could get warm. I'm so hungry."
    She stepped toward the kitchenette. "Not supposed to touch anything. Not supposed to eat unless he says so. He forgot to feed me again. There's cheese. It's green, but if you cut that off, it's okay. Maybe he won't know if I have just a little. He'll hit me if he finds out, but he'll hit me anyway, and I'm so hungry. I forget I'm not supposed to eat because I want more. I want more. Oh God, God, he's coming."
    The hand she'd fisted opened. She heard the knife hit the floor.
    What are you doing, little girl?
    "Have to think fast, make excuses, but it doesn't help. He knows, and he's not very drunk. He hits me in the face; I taste blood, but I don't cry. Maybe he'll stop. But he doesn't stop, and now it's his fists. He knocks me down." She crumpled to her knees. "And I can't stop myself from begging him. Stop, oh please, don't. Please, please, it hurts. He'll kill me if I fight, but I can't help it. It hurts! And I hurt him back."
    She peers down at her hand, remembering using her nails to claw at his face, how he'd howled. She could hear it.
    "My arm!" She clutched it. Heard, felt the dry snap of that young bone, and the hideous bright pain. "He's pushing into me, pushing in, panting on my face. Candy breath. Mints," she realized dimly. "Mints over whiskey. Horrible, horrible in my face. I see his face. They call him Rick, or Richie, and his face is bleeding where I scratched him. He can bleed, too. He can hurt, too."
    She was weeping now, the tears pouring down her face. Watching her, knowing he had no choice but to watch her live the nightmare, Roarke broke inside.
    "I have the knife in my hand. My hand closes over the knife I dropped on the floor. Then the knife's in him. It punches into him, a little popping sound. And now he screams, and he stops. The knife made him stop, so I push it into him again. Again. Again. He rolls away, but I don't stop. He stopped, but I don't stop. I can't stop. He's staring at me, and I won't stop. Blood, the blood's all over him. All over me. His blood's all over me."
    "Eve." She was on her hands and knees, snarling like an animal. Roarke crouched in front of her, took her arms. She hissed at him, but he tightened his grip. And his hands trembled. "Stay here. Stay with me. Look at me."
    She shook violently, fought for breath. "I'm all right. I can smell it." She broke, and shattered into his arms. "Oh God, can't you smell it?"
    "We're going to leave now. I'm taking you away from this."
    "No. Just hold on to me. Just hold on. I remember what it was like. Like not being human anymore. Like the animal that lives inside us had leaped out. Then I crawled away, over there."
    She shivered still as she looked over at the corner, but she made herself see it, see herself, as it had been. "I watched him for a long time, waiting for him to get up and make me sorry. But he didn't. When it was light, I got up and washed his blood off me in the cold water. And I packed a bag. Imagine thinking of that? I hurt- my arm, where he'd raped me again-but it was buried under the shock. Still, I didn't use the elevator-had enough wit for that. Used the stairs. Crept down the stairs and went outside. I don't remember a lot of that, except it was bright out and my eyes stung. Lost the bag somewhere and just walked. And walked."
    She eased back. "He never called me by a name. Because I didn't have one. I remember that now. They didn't bother to give me a name because I wasn't a child to them. I was a thing. I can't remember her, but I remember him. I remember what he said the first time he