Chapter 4

Upon waking, the room is full of smoke I wave my hands around trying to fan the smoke away from my face. I'm coughing. I realise I'm in my bed. Quickly, I jump out and open the door, where flames are blazing throughout the house.

'Mum! Dad!' I scream. Their bedroom door is locked. I use my body weight to bang into the door. I fall to the ground when I force it open. When I look up, I'm no longer in my house. I'm surrounded by trees.

'Zurielle!' Ace calls out. I stand up. It's dark, and all I can see are trees.

'Ace!' I call out to him. Relief washes over me as, Ace steps out from the trees, we smile at eachother, and suddenly a gunshot goes off.

The colour drains from Ace’s face as he presses his hand against his abdomen. Removing his hand, he looks down. Blood. He has been shot.

'Ace!' I scream as I run towards him. He falls to his knees, revealing Red Back standing behind him with a gun.

'No!' I scream. He grabs me by the hair and pushes me back. Instead of landing on dirt, I land inside some kind of box. It's the cupboard he locked me in. He closes the door and locks it.

'You are mine, Zurielle! Until you learn to obey me, you will stay in there!' He yells.

'Ace! Ace! Don’t die. Please don’t die!' I scream.

'Zurielle! Wake up!' Ace yells. I sit up suddenly, drenched in sweat, and gasping for air. Ace is sitting on the bed in front of me with his hands on my shoulders. I burst into tears, after reliving the house fire and the night Ace was shot. Ace pulls me into his chest.

'Shh… it’s okay. You’re safe. It was just a bad dream.' He whispers, rubbing my back.

'There were flames everywhere, I broke into my parents’ bedroom only to end up in the woods. You were calling out to me trying to find me. Red Back appeared, he-he shot you and locked me in that cupboard again. It felt so real Ace, it felt so real,' I cry.

'I’m safe now Zurielle. So are you. No one will ever harm you again. You have been calling out for me a lot in your sleep recently, but tonight you were hysterical. I had to wake you up. I think you may be suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. You never really had the chance to talk to anyone properly about everything you have been through and you still haven’t taken your parents out of that cardboard box. I noticed you hid them in a cupboard...' He says, concerned.

Wiping the tears from my face, I look into his eyes.

'I don’t want to talk about it, any of it. I just want to pretend none of it ever happened,' I sob.

'It has been incredibly difficult for you, Zurielle, but it's haunting you. You can only avoid these things for so long. They will always come back to you. Perhaps, I can organise to get you some counselling or see a therapist?' He suggests.

He is right; I can’t keep putting it all at the back of my mind. The truth is, it's not just affecting me at night. I have become quite jumpy at work when colleagues greet me and talk to me, unexpectedly. Sometimes, in the elevator, I’m claustrophobic. It feels like I’m in that locked cupboard. Being sexually intimate with Ace is the only thing that pushes it away.

'Please, Zurielle, I think it will help you a lot if you speak to someone,’ he reassures me.

'You're right. I need to deal with these traumas. I don’t want to do it alone.'

'I’ll go with you.'

I nod and close my eyes for a moment. I'm leaning against Ace's chest, and he caresses my face until I fall asleep.

When I wake up, I stretch my arms out and look around, adjusting my eyes. Ace isn’t in the room. I turn and look at the clock. 9.43 am. I hurry out of bed and into my wardrobe throwing something on as quickly as I can. I'm meant to be at work at 9am. Why didn’t Ace wake me?

Once I'm dressed, I race downstairs to find Ace in the kitchen.

'We're late for work and you aren’t dressed?' I say, confused. Ace smiles and hands me a mug of warm almond milk.

'I wanted you to sleep as long as you could, since you haven’t been sleeping well lately,’ he frowns.

'What about work?' I ask, sipping the drink.

'I’m the boss. I don’t need permission to take the day off. Besides, I’m more worried about you. I have organised for you to start seeing someone, to help you through things. We see her this afternoon,' he smiles.

'Oh, that was quick.'

We arrive at the building and we are called into an office. A woman shakes my hand.

'You must be Zurielle. You can call me Libby.’ She smiles. 'Please, take a seat.’ She gestures.

Ace sits on the two-seater couch; I'm feeling quite anxious about being here. I sit next to Ace as close as I can. He takes my hand, holds it in his lap, and caresses the back of my hand with his thumb.

'Zurielle, I want to talk to you about your life before you met Ace. Let’s begin with your home life, growing up, and anything over those years that made you uncomfortable. Also any traumatic events that may have happened.'

'Okay. I'm an only child. I had a really good childhood. My parents were always there for me. I did well at school and at piano. My fondest memories are playing the piano for my parents. They loved it when I played for them. They would always stop what they were doing and stand near the piano and watch. Nothing bad ever happened while I was a child, but when I was a teenager, I did start to become uncomfortable around people. Mainly at my dad’s work functions and public events where there were lots of men,' I admit.

'What made you uncomfortable being around men?' Libby asks, curious, and scribbling on her notepad.

'I-I um, they... the way they stared at me. I didn’t like it and I was more uncomfortable that my parents noticed too. I was constantly stared at by men I paid them no attention. In fact, Dad told me how proud he was that I was so attentive at the speeches. I ignored the stares and inappropriate comments they made, when no one was looking.'

Ace is a little annoyed by what I have said. He relaxes and rubs my hand.

'It’s okay, Zurielle. I’m not annoyed at you,’ he says reassuringly. I nod and force a smile.

'Did your father ever say anything to any of the men about their inappropriate stares and behaviour towards you?' She asks.

'I’m not sure. His business suddenly went downhill. It would explain why he lost so many clients if he had warned them. He always reminded me not to trust men, any man, that they are selfish, and only want one thing from me. I knew he meant sex, even though he didn’t directly say it. He said they will use me, toss me aside like a toy, and I will get hurt. That I need to find a man who loves me for me. Who knows I’m intelligent, kind and compassionate. Probably an impossible task, he once said.' I frown at the memory.

'Well, you're here with Mr Brightly, so it wasn’t an impossible task,' she smiles reassuringly. I smile back, before smiling at Ace.

'Oh Libby. If only you knew how impossible Mr Brightly is.' I smirk.

'I would love to hear all about it.' She smiles, and looks at Ace and I. I giggle as Ace sinks in his seat a little, nervously.

'Uh oh...' Ace whispers. I laugh and begin the story of how we first bumped into eachother.