when she got started refurnishing the room she’d move the bed away from the wall on her side, so she didn’t have to disturb him getting in and out of bed.
A memory of the camping trips she’d taken with her family flashed into her mind. All of them wrapped up in sleeping bags in the small nylon tent, lying in a row like tinned sardines. When she had to get up to go relieve herself in the night she had to step over three bodies to reach the tent flap. It had been like an obstacle course.
Smiling, Anna slipped under the comforter. The size of the bed was one factor that had convinced her she could handle sleeping with him. There was more than enough room for both of them to have their space in the bed. It wasn’t like the narrow, lumpy mattress she shared with her Protector, where she’d been crammed into the corner by his mountainous, stinking form.… No, Abuser . She needed to call him what he was. Not her Protector , her Abuser !
As she settled in, every sense was on hyper-alert for movement on the other side of the bed. But Chase didn’t budge. And after a few minutes, she let herself relax.
Sleep came before she knew it.
When she woke again it was to find herself pinned beneath a heavy arm, a hard body pressed against her back. Panic rose up like a tidal wave, and she fought to get out from beneath that awful weight at the same time as she fought down the urge to scream.
Screaming didn’t help. All it got her was a beating.
Fractured memories of being held down and helpless rushed to invade her mind. Anna could smell that childish room beneath the stench of stale beer and body odour, feel the chill in the air, and hear the creak of the bedsprings as that huge weight bore down on her. It hurt. God it hurt!
But worse than the pain was the total lack of control. He was so big. She couldn’t get him off. His body was like a steel trap, holding her in place. No matter how hard she struggled, she couldn’t get away from him.
Whimpering, sobbing, she thrashed, mindless with terror.
“Shhh, it's okay...” came the low male voice in English.
What was this? Her Protectors never spoke English. Was this a new one? All her senses told her that this man was unknown. A stranger. A stranger who spoke English with an American accent.
“Anna, it’s me, Chase. You’re safe. Stop struggling. I’m not... I’ll try to let you go if you stop struggling.” The voice was more urgent this time.
Chase? Who was... And then all the memories of the day before came flooding back. This was Chase, the man who had turned her into a cat. The man who had found his mother dead of an overdose.
With every bit of her strength she forced down the panic. Gasping for breath, she focused on relaxing her limbs. When she was still, his great weight edged off her until he was gone completely. Only then did she scramble away to the far wall, huddling against it, staring suspiciously at the man on the other side of the bed.
Chase now lay on his back, his naked torso revealed as one muscular arm covered his eyes. He was gasping for breath too.
What had happened?
“Sorry. I must have snuggled in while I was asleep. I don’t usually... I mean... when I sleep with women I don’t usually do that... after. Not that there was an after.” His words were garbled, as panicky as she had been only moments ago.
“You wouldn’t let me go!” she accused angrily.
“I couldn’t. My cat... Jeezus. My cat felt you struggling and his reaction was to hold you down. Keep you still. I couldn’t wrestle him back until you stopped fighting me.”
“You said you wouldn’t –”
“And I didn’t. My cat wasn’t trying to take you.” He fell silent for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. “It was protective. He – I – felt your panic. Covering you with my body was instinctual. I couldn’t determine the threat so I held you down; protecting you from whatever threatened you.
“When I realised you were frightened of me , it didn’t
A memory of the camping trips she’d taken with her family flashed into her mind. All of them wrapped up in sleeping bags in the small nylon tent, lying in a row like tinned sardines. When she had to get up to go relieve herself in the night she had to step over three bodies to reach the tent flap. It had been like an obstacle course.
Smiling, Anna slipped under the comforter. The size of the bed was one factor that had convinced her she could handle sleeping with him. There was more than enough room for both of them to have their space in the bed. It wasn’t like the narrow, lumpy mattress she shared with her Protector, where she’d been crammed into the corner by his mountainous, stinking form.… No, Abuser . She needed to call him what he was. Not her Protector , her Abuser !
As she settled in, every sense was on hyper-alert for movement on the other side of the bed. But Chase didn’t budge. And after a few minutes, she let herself relax.
Sleep came before she knew it.
When she woke again it was to find herself pinned beneath a heavy arm, a hard body pressed against her back. Panic rose up like a tidal wave, and she fought to get out from beneath that awful weight at the same time as she fought down the urge to scream.
Screaming didn’t help. All it got her was a beating.
Fractured memories of being held down and helpless rushed to invade her mind. Anna could smell that childish room beneath the stench of stale beer and body odour, feel the chill in the air, and hear the creak of the bedsprings as that huge weight bore down on her. It hurt. God it hurt!
But worse than the pain was the total lack of control. He was so big. She couldn’t get him off. His body was like a steel trap, holding her in place. No matter how hard she struggled, she couldn’t get away from him.
Whimpering, sobbing, she thrashed, mindless with terror.
“Shhh, it's okay...” came the low male voice in English.
What was this? Her Protectors never spoke English. Was this a new one? All her senses told her that this man was unknown. A stranger. A stranger who spoke English with an American accent.
“Anna, it’s me, Chase. You’re safe. Stop struggling. I’m not... I’ll try to let you go if you stop struggling.” The voice was more urgent this time.
Chase? Who was... And then all the memories of the day before came flooding back. This was Chase, the man who had turned her into a cat. The man who had found his mother dead of an overdose.
With every bit of her strength she forced down the panic. Gasping for breath, she focused on relaxing her limbs. When she was still, his great weight edged off her until he was gone completely. Only then did she scramble away to the far wall, huddling against it, staring suspiciously at the man on the other side of the bed.
Chase now lay on his back, his naked torso revealed as one muscular arm covered his eyes. He was gasping for breath too.
What had happened?
“Sorry. I must have snuggled in while I was asleep. I don’t usually... I mean... when I sleep with women I don’t usually do that... after. Not that there was an after.” His words were garbled, as panicky as she had been only moments ago.
“You wouldn’t let me go!” she accused angrily.
“I couldn’t. My cat... Jeezus. My cat felt you struggling and his reaction was to hold you down. Keep you still. I couldn’t wrestle him back until you stopped fighting me.”
“You said you wouldn’t –”
“And I didn’t. My cat wasn’t trying to take you.” He fell silent for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. “It was protective. He – I – felt your panic. Covering you with my body was instinctual. I couldn’t determine the threat so I held you down; protecting you from whatever threatened you.
“When I realised you were frightened of me , it didn’t
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