Tears overwhelmed Cara, her dad’s arms enveloped her as she cried into his chest. He rocked her gently allowing her the moment to release her emotions.
The men in the common room all stopped and stared at the scene before them. Johnson turned around from the sofa, eyes widened in shock. His eyes flickered to Archer who also wore the same thunderstruck expression.
‘DAD?’ Johnson mouthed at Archer who shrugged in response.
The embrace lasted a minute before their boss peeled himself away, guiding Cara into the room.
“Gents, this is my daughter. I expect you all to treat her with respect and make her feel welcome.”
“Yes sir,” they all called out in unison.
Her dad pushed her towards a small table, pulling out a seat for her. “Archer, first aid kit.” He ordered. Archer immediately pbeyed the command, rushing out the room.
“I’ll be down the corridor if you need me.” Her dad spoke softly to her. Everyone stood still, mouths agape and
Cara took a moment to collect her thoughts. The steam that had built up from the showers now threatenedu to suffocate her. She turned the faucet off, allowing the steam to settle around her. She picked up her drenched clothes from the floor and headed back out of the washroom. The corridor was eerily empty, she could hear talking from the far side as she made her way to her room. Pushing the door open she was met with Archer’s tattooed torso. He spun around, his now dry trousers loosely hung around his hips as he slung them on. Her eyes travelled over his chest and abs, adorned with a large eagle at the top with writing; a transcript on his ribs and a lion across his abs. She had never fully appreciated the artwork that stained his skin before and her breathing hitched slightly as she devoured the sight. Archer coughed, bringing her attention back to his face. Cara shifted on the spot, had he noticed her ogling? He shook his hair with his hand, droplets of water spra
Cara avoided Archer the remainder of the day. Unable to look at his judgemental eyes or feel his inescapable presence. Fortunately, she had managed to eat something, the apple that was left on her plate amongst the sandwiches had sated her hunger slightly. As nightfall came, her tiredness took over. She rested her head on the pillow, the dull throb still evident but bearable. Her eyes closed softly as she allowed the darkness to envelop her. The peaceful sounds outside the window pulled her in. The breeze gently wisping through the trees and the faint sounds of cars passing by. Cara tossed and turned in her bed, darkness surrounded her and familiar footsteps echoed around her senses. She was back in her cell, the sight of nothingness invaded her vision. Suddenly, hands were reaching for her, slashing and slapping at her face. She tried to block the blows but they kept coming. They were calling her name, mocking her. “Cara.” The voices repeated. “Cara.” She he
Cara woke up feeling refreshed, her body still ached from the bruises but the throbbing in her head had subsided. The conversation from the night before echoed in her mind, she needed to get out of here. Being around Archer was the last thing she needed, what she needed was her own space. She pulled herself up from the bed, glancing down at the body on the floor. Archer lay with his head on his folded up sleeping bag, his arms crossed over his bare chest and his boots had been kicked off in disarray. The sight caused her heart to skip a beat, the shift causing her breathing to rush. His ink-stained skin rose and fell hypnotically, his hair swept over his forehead. She shifted quietly, attempting not to make a sound, holding her breath as if her life depended on it. She was unsure of the time, but she could hear noise outside the room, meaning there were others awake. She ventured out of the room, heading down the corridor. She reached the door at the end, the sign on
Cara had resigned herself to her room consistently for a week, enjoying the quiet solitude. She had only ventured out to grab some food when it wasn't busy, sometimes exploring further outside to sit on the grass or peek at the self-defence classes. Each time, O’Connell had caught her and asked her to join. As much as she wanted to, it scared her. The thought of being in a confrontational and aggressive situation frightened her. She had never been the type to fight but she couldn’t help but explore the possibility that she could change that. Archer had kept his distance from Cara, he knew she needed time and space and he willingly accepted it. The nightmares were a different story. Each night he would sit outside her room, listening intently. He could hear her panic; her strangled moans as she tossed and turned over in his bed. When he couldn't take anymore, he would cautiously enter the room, watching over her like he was her guard. Holding her hand gently until the dreams
Cara couldn't help herself, she hated feeling jealous. She had made it clear to him she wanted nothing to do with him, yet she was pining after the very man. She made her way back to her room, a shower calling to her. It was increasingly frustrating that she was constantly asking Johnson to keep lookout while she showered. It was a little before midday so she was certain that everyone else would be out, she decided to risk it. She headed into the washroom, making her way to the back of the tiled room. The area was separated by a white tiled wall, allowing two sections for showering. She stepped around it, peeling off her workout clothes and turning the faucet on the farthest side. Cara waited for the water to heat up as steam soon welled up in the room, like a mist rolling in. She stepped under the cascade, revelling in the refreshing feeling as it washed over her. She had soon finished washing and was enjoying the subdued tranquility when she heard a click as the th
Cara swiftly exited her room, finding O’Connell in the common area alone. His fiery features fixated on the tv as she watched him playing Call of Duty. “Good session.” He smiled, his focus fixed ahead of him. “Excuse me?” Cara blushed as she sat down beside him. “The class.” He paused the game, taking a moment to observe Cara’s flushed features. “Oh. Yeah, thank you for that.” She smiled back, feigning her initial reaction. “You have a mean upper-cut, I’ll give you that!” He laughed, nudging her. She laughed back in response, as a grumble left her stomach. “Hungry?” “Yeah.” “Let’s go then!” O’Connell stood up from the sofa, ironing out his uniform with his hands. Cara followed him out the building, taking the familiar path down towards the gym before following it the left. They stood outside another large building, the scent of roasted vegetables wafted around them. Cara watched more uniformed bodies entering the large
A further week had passed, Cara’s nightmares weren’t easing up and Archer was still making a regular appearance to soothe her during the episodes. Cara had woken a few times to the sight of Archer, before her eyes shut again. No words were ever exchanged, the silent understanding that he would protect her filled the room. She allowed the small intimate strokes on her hand or face to pacified her without the need to speak. This evening was different though, her nightmares took her back to the dungeon she was held captive in. Only this time, Rich had appeared in the doorway, he was tensed up and fists clenched at his sides. His face was pulled up into a smirk, taunting Cara. He stalked towards her, his eyes glowing red in anger. His face contorted and his smile widened in a satanic fashion. She tossed and turned, trying to pull herself away from his grasp. He pulled at her clothes, his nails turned into claws as he dug them into her skin. He was crawling on top of her,
“Want to spar?” He asked her while a cheeky grin formed on his face. “No, I’m done here,” she retorted. She began to unwrap her gloves but paused when she heard his taunts. “Scared?” Cara’s body tensed up with anger before throwing her gloves to floor. “Fine.” She stood to face him, she still had the wraps on and the new sense of danger was pumping adrenaline furiously around her body. Archer’s presence already had her riled up and she knew that fighting him would only fuel her on. Archer walked up to her, standing less than two metres away from her. Cara raised her fists protectively, meanwhile Archer circled her with his arms swinging by his side. Archer threw the first punch, Cara dodged under his arm before jabbing her fist into his ribs. He rubbed them lightly, tilting his head at her. “Not bad,” he taunted. Memories of high school drowned her thoughts, igniting the embers inside her. He lunged forward at her distraction,