The Bell of Freedom (King and human romance)✔

Chapter Thirty-Three

Things stay roughly the same for the next fourteen days. After our return from the breeding centre, Cain held an ice pack to my spine for an entire hour while I tried to pretend that the anger of seeing my parents' killers wasn't eating me up inside. I have no idea what happened with them, he won't tell me, I asked him a hundred times and he ignored it. The first few days were spent in agony, the ice helped though.

Every day has been torture, not just physically but mentally I am as close to depressed as I can be. I spent most of the days just sitting in the chair or laying in bed. I've been sleeping a lot.

A few days ago, Cain did something that I wasn't expecting. He had a television brought into my room, along with DVDs of all my past favourite movies and a few that his 'souls' recommended. I've been watching them on loops as I lay in the bed eating snacks tiredly. Cain occasionally looked up from his work and smiled at something on the television, even though he pretended to not be listening he was. He listens to everything.

The movies were a good distraction for a while but then I would think of Jackson and Christian. My sadness became overwhelming. It filled the room and made it duller. I can dress myself without Cain's aid now and I can tolerate having a shower without squealing. I am healing but at the same time I'm not. As my bruises become less dark, as my wounds become more invisible, my mind is getting pulled into a dark world of loneliness.

I lay on the bed today wearing a bathrobe with my fingers grabbing at the popcorn in the bowl. I'm watching a movie about two women that met when they were kids on a sandy beach, they grew up writing letters to each other as their lives took different directions. It's one of the saddest movies I've ever seen and it probably isn't a good idea to be watching it but I'm that numb that I can't even react properly.

I stare at Cain as he rises from his chair, he gathers his papers up and leaves the room. I take another handful of popcorn and I bring it to my mouth slowly. I replace the movie with something else. This was exciting the first day, now I'm just sick of it. Sick of being stuck here. Sick of being treated like I have no emotions. Cain won't allow me to take more than two painkillers every four hours but it's the only thing I look forward to because it allows me to finally feel something.

It's around two hours later when he returns. My head is down and ready for a late afternoon nap but the arrival of Blake makes me more awake. I push myself up, eyeing Blake as he walks around the bed.

"May I?" he says, stretching his hand to me.

I nod.

Cain observes us from the foot of the bed, he folds one arm and rubs his finger against the top of his lip. Blake takes my hand and focuses for a few seconds; he drops it and steps backwards.

"Well?" Cain says.

"She's still the most incredible thing I've ever touched," Blake says. "But it's not like it was. It's not as powerful. If I was any other guard then I'd be able to resist her. The isolation worked."

Cain smiles at me. "Leave us. You know what to do."

Blake nods and exits the room. I keep my eyes on Cain, wondering if this might finally be it. The day he lets me out.

"I am so sorry for the way I've treated you," he says, walking to stand beside me. He drops down to the bed, turning to look at me. "I can see how devoid of life you are and it has been hard to watch it."

"You still can't read me?" I whisper.

"No." He covers my hand with his, the touch is so warm that I can't reject it. "There is a flicker, a flash of something, but it's not clear. I didn't tell Blake the reason why but I imagine he's beginning to suspect a lot of things that he'll never say out loud."