Torn

by T. N. King

  He was in a good mood, and she was some kind of harlot, some kind of monster for allowing him to pull on her wrist like he was, her stomach dropping out around her feet as she closed her eyes and steeled herself for the hands on her person that were going to follow. He was probably thinking that they got the extra night to themselves here, was probably excited to crawl into bed with her and there she was wishing that his body was someone else’s, that the hands that were going to be moving over her would belong to her adopted brother rather than him. She was sick, swallowing back the disgust in her throat and opening her eyes as he tugged on her wrist, prepared to force that smile and desire that she didn’t actually feel when he spun her, her back hitting hard against that now closed door, body half lifted onto her toes from the way in which she hit.

  All of her breath left her in a rush, expecting to look up into hungry eyes and an even hungrier set of hands, only the hands holding her against the door weren’t moving over her or moving at all from the way that they were suddenly restraining. His eyes glaring down at her were so full of anger that she nearly flinched back from him. She only just managed to stop from doing so in time as he lowered his face, nose brushing against the side of hers and his lips pulling back into a grimace that made her stomach bottom out for entirely different reasons, fear overriding all of those other emotions she had been experiencing only seconds before.

  “Whore,” sneered into the side of her cheek, his teeth dragging alongside the upper curve of her cheekbone. “You fucking whore.” The hand pressing into her clavicle climbing until his palm could flatten against her throat and push her back even further. “What were you doing with Mason? What were you doing down there, hmm Nickie? I came over to surprise you, to be with you because I fucking missed you… and what do I find you doing? Missing me?” His harsh laugh left spittle on her cheek, lips closing over one another to keep the tears at bay. “No… I find you fucking cheating on me… with your stepbrother.”

  Adopted brother, not that it was much better… but she hadn’t...done anything, she‘d wanted to, but she hadn’t. She hadn’t been cheating. Not that she could get the words out with his hand against her windpipe like it was. She tried shaking her head, but the minute that it started to move his fingers tightened.

  “I know what I saw babe. You looked guilty… and so did he. That fucking fag. After I dropped the charges against him… is that why he attacked me that night? Didn’t like me getting in between the legs he already claimed? Your fucking brother Nickie you goddamn whore. I leave you alone for two seconds… and this is what happens…” He sounded absolutely disgusted.

  And…he was wrong- it wasn’t why Mason had gone over there, he just hadn’t understood, she just hadn’t had time to explain to him what the bruise was or how it was her fault. But the rest… he was right, she was disgusting, wanting Mason like she did, having even entertained it for a moment…

  “Is that why you begged me to drop the charges Nickie? You wanted to keep your little boy toy around and accessible?”

  His fingers tightened even further, so far that it was difficult to pull a breath in, but then half relaxed, her voice barely forming the ‘no’ that she managed to gasp out. No, it wasn’t, she begged him to drop the charges because it was her fault, not Mason’s. She wanted to beg him now, to try to explain what he thought he had seen, and all just from walking in on them sitting on the couch, he hadn’t even seen her before, when she’d been plastering herself to him. He was right, she was a whore, but saying so now… she didn’t know how to apologize, she didn’t know how to explain, even if he would move his hand long enough to let her.

  “I should go down there and kick his ass right now, fucking prick. I should go down there and put his goddamned hands through the fucking blender, thinking he can touch what’s mine.” She did start moving then, struggling against his hands, and she knew the minute she did it was a mistake, knew that he had been waiting for and expecting her to do so, his gaze turning even meaner on her, that anger climbing until his cheeks were flushed a ruddy red. “No? You don’t want me to do that? Why is that?” Taunting her, his fingers loosening and tightening over again, if he wasn’t careful her skin was going to bruise.

  “Please…” Her voice was broken, more air than word worked out of her cracked lips, fingers trying to pry those from her throat to no avail. She had made a mistake, she would admit as much…. “Please Aaron, I never- we didn’t…” do anything, they hadn’t done anything, she had probably imagined half of what had happened, and even if she hadn’t… it was impossible, she could see that fury, and her fear was rising rapidly enough to make her feel like even if that hand wasn’t on her throat she’d be choking. She just needed to be able to talk, she just needed to be able to reassure him, to stop him from working himself up any further, to stop him from leaving this room and doing something that could possibly alter everything. That could wind up in an ambulance needing to be called for a wholly more fatal reason than it had last time.

  Her fingers scrabbled, points pressing against his forearm and her wide eyes lifting to him in an attempt to make him look at her, to actually see her, but the very sight of her doing so seemed to enrage him more, his hand closing tighter around her throat again and his other lifting up to her forearm. She barely had time to blink before he was lifting her off of the floor entirely, her whole body hurled in that short space between the door and bed, bouncing painfully a few times against the mattress before she tried to reorient herself. She tried to sit up and was blocked almost immediately by his body pushing her back, his thighs spreading to sit over hers and his whole arm lifting back up to slam the back of his hand against her cheekbone, the resounding noise loud enough to ensure that she would have to be wearing foundation tomorrow to cover it.

  “You fucking whore,” hand lifted again but this time he was smarter, this time his punch was directed at her ribcage, more easily hidden, and her gasping for air was only partially because of the pain. His anger was palpable, body shaking over her own in such fierce rage that she wasn’t even sure she would be able to calm him down, that she wasn’t even sure that she could make him listen to her even if she could manage to get a word out between his ranting.

  “Aaron, listen to me,” her sobs were as silent as she could make them, the hands pulling at his forearms soft, not trying to push him away but pull him to her. She’d made a mistake, she loved him, she had just…. She didn’t know, but she knew she wanted to keep him here, that she wanted him to stay in this room, and she did feel guilty. She loved him, why would she ever think of Mason like that? “Nothing happened, nothing has ever happened between Mason and I, he’s my brother.” The word felt wrong for the first time in her life, felt like vitriol coming up through her lips as she pulled against Aaron’s arms. “I love you, only you. I’ve only ever loved you.” He was the only man she had ever been with, the only man she’d ever considered being with before tonight. “I’ve only been with you, I never want to be with anyone else.” The lie was broken, but his hands had stilled, pushing back into the mattress to frame her face as he hovered over her.

  She didn’t need to see that flash across his face, or the way that he smiled over hearing it, her heart pounding in her ribcage, her fingers failing against his arms. He wasn’t moving, away or forward, he wasn’t speaking, just looking at her and the tears pouring down her face and into her hair haloed out around her. He wasn’t letting her talk either, the first time she tried opening her lips his chin jerking hard to the side, a cue that she knew well enough to take. She’d made a mistake, again, and put Mason, again, into danger by doing so. She did love Aaron, she didn’t know why thinking so felt wrong, or why saying so felt like she was pacifying him. She did love him, she’d only spent months working with him through his issues, she was just overwhelmed. That had to be it.

  She was just having some sort of weird projected feelings for Mason because of her issues with Aaron. Aaron who was trying, who had done so well in not putting his hands
on her but very minimally since the incident with Mason over the summer. Aaron who had apologized over and over for the bruise on her arm, and kissed her wrist for weeks following his release from the hospital in apology. He’d made a mistake. Mistakes were bound to happen, but…. She couldn’t stop seeing Mason even now, stop wondering if he was even going to be there in the morning.

  “Prove it,” his voice was low, the words whispered just into her hairline before he drug his nose along the edge of her face. Her throat worked, but no sound came out, fingers turning from his arms up into his chest, trying to work those buttons lining the front of his shirt open despite her shaking hands. She loved him, it was fine. “No, not just that.” He didn’t sound angry anymore, but there was a dangerous note to his voice she didn’t recognize, even if he was assisting her in the removal of his shirt, pushing her down into the bed in a completely different manner then. “Prove that you only want to be with me ever again…”

  It took too long of a moment, her brain still twisted up with all of the different emotions she had yet to process, eyes lifting to his with a shocked part to her lips. He… her body shook all the harder, his forehead pushing into hers and his hands moving to work at her own shirt. “Say yes,” he persuaded, lips pushing into the corner of hers. “Just say yes.” Her eyes closed, hoping he took it as desire, hoping he took that shaking as either aftershock of the fear or desire- hoping he couldn’t read the trepidation pouring through her every pore.

  The tears weren’t stopping, and the pit of her stomach felt more empty even than when they had started up the stairs to this room. Say yes he said, and her mouth dried out, face lifting to allow him to continue placing kisses down her jawline and onto her throat. “Yes,” she agreed, the tears coming all the harder for it. Yes.

  Chapter Nine

  Mason hadn’t slept. Not in the hours since he’d finally managed to smoke half of the pack of cigarettes left in his car, pacing in front of where he had parked until he was calm enough to let himself back in the house. He’d listened, all night, for her to cry or make any kind of noise of distress, muffled or not. He’d listened to Marie and Paul coming home and tripping their way up the stairs laughing and giggling while Paul whisper-hollered something about steak and damned kale biting his ass. He’d listened to the regular morning routine of Paul getting up to make he and Marie’s coffee and trying to silently, and failing on the silent part, carry it back to bed for them to drink together. He’d even listened as the rest of the house got up and the faint morning noises drifted back up the stairs as what he assumed was Nicole and Marie got breakfast together.

  He couldn’t get his head to center properly, couldn’t stop replaying the night before, before Aaron had come in- couldn’t stop imagining what might have happened if he never had. It wasn’t like it was the first time he’d imagined anything of the sort, it wasn’t like he hadn’t imagined Nicole in every state of undress he could possibly consider over the years, and some that didn’t even make sense. They were the sort of thoughts he couldn’t even share with Dr. Friedrich though, even subconsciously too possessive to allow anyone else even thinking about her in such a state even through his own fantasies.

  He couldn’t stop thinking about all of the ways it had affected his life, all of the instances where things had shifted or altered only just because of thinking about her or hearing her name. She and Marie both kept asking over and over about girls and he wasn’t a saint, he wasn’t virginal, hadn’t locked himself up because of his obsession with Nicole. That would have been insane. It was only that, even in his relationships, there was always Nicole to compare those women to. Physically, mentally, emotionally. The girlfriend that had spoken too passionately over greenhouse gases, and while it’d been amusing, her opinion had been too opposite of Nicole’s- to the point that any time she brought the thing up he was forced to think of Nicole. And whenever she spoke, he couldn’t help but hear Nicole’s angry rebuttal in his head, despite her never having met the girl. There was the girl who had liked biting her nails, inspiring that mental dialogue in his head every time of Nicole complaining just what a disgusting habit that was. And then there was last year…

  He’d only been dating her for about a month and a half, but it was longer than he generally managed to go before something or another came up and forced him to cut it off. She didn’t care about greenhouse gases, she didn’t bite her nails, she was polar opposite from Nicole when it came to physical appearance. She had been all blonde hair and pale skin, striking green eyes that had narrowed all too easily when he’d said something she disagreed with. Mentally stimulating as well as physically- and they’d gotten along. At least they had up until this point.

  Her breath always tasted of sweet mint, something that he found out early on he enjoyed, her near silent, breathy moans lifted up into his own mouth and all of her pale skin on display as it had been. It was easy to get lost in her, easy to get caught up in the way she was twisting her thighs around the edges of his own, working herself off of the mattress and up into his hips while he hovered there to let her do her thing. Her nails scraping down his back and forcing that breath just that much harder out of his mouth. She felt warm. Warm and inviting, her back arched in such a way as to allow him just that much deeper in between her thighs, his hand shoved down between their two bodies, his still and hers gyrating, to allow his thumb access to that point just above where it was he was disappearing inside of her. It was slow and nonetheless heated for it, their bodies already well worn from the two hours previous that they had spent in that bed.

  It wasn’t until her thighs began to shake, that rhythm she’d been holding losing its cohesiveness, jerky motions setting him all the more on edge as she fell back. The exhalation of air that was more a groan than air from her mouth that he shifted, his thumb pressing even harder against her slick flesh, slowing that arch of his thumb down as he fell down with her, pushing her back down into the mattress and pulling his hips near fully away from hers. Pulled back until only the very edge of him was still seated within her, that noise of protestation dying on her lips the moment he pushed back into her. Hard and fast, the pacing of his hips directly opposite from that of his thumb and what she had been doing with her own before it. Too much, those breathy noises turning loud beneath him, her nails slipping against his flesh.

  Maybe it had been the way she said his name, or maybe it was the way that she stuttered between the first and second syllable, but his mind slipped just as her fingers had. Replaced that blonde hair his face was buried into with brunette with the strawberry scented shampoo she used with almond mint. His eyes closing too hard and that orgasm hitting him harder and quicker than he had been able to prepare for- ‘Nicole’ out of his mouth and into the side of that face on the edge of a groan before he could help it…

  It had been a mutually agreed upon end to that relationship, and the last time he allowed himself to picture Nicole in any stage of undress since… until last night…

  He wished he had left the night before, he wished it before he even got out of bed himself, throwing his rumpled, dirty clothes from the night before off of himself and into his overnight duffle to change into his outfit of the day. He wished a lot of things, but he managed to go through the motions. Brushing his teeth, his hair, washing his face and smoking another cigarette out of the window of his old room, which of course prompted another round of brushing his teeth before going downstairs. He didn’t want to see them together. He didn’t want to see Nicole smiling and Aaron putting his possessive hands on her in a way that made it seem like he just couldn’t help but touch her. He didn’t want to hear any more professions of their love or hear him say ‘babe’ like it was her given name.

  More than this, he didn’t want to go downstairs and find her favoring one arm or leg over the other, hiding a bruise from the rest of them. He didn’t think he could sit quietly through that, he didn’t think he could help himself, and he knew this time, if he saw something like that, he was going to kill
Aaron. It wasn’t a question of if any longer, if it ever even had been. If she had so much as a fingerprint on her he wouldn’t be able to help himself. And he was going to have to face it, either way, no matter which one of the two it was he would be sick to his stomach, descending those stairs one at a time, at a measured pace as if it could in any way prolong what he would be walking into. As if it could keep him from having to face one or the other completely.

  Logically he knew it wouldn’t, however, he wasn’t feeling entirely logical at the moment, finger pressing into the inside of his palm to try and center himself as he entered that kitchen- all four other bodies already bustling inside of it. Talk and laughter being traded back and forth amongst the four bodies as if there were nothing odd about the addition to their breakfast table, already half overflowing with an assortment of baked goods and breakfast foods. He‘d taken longer getting ready in his room than he had even been aware of apparently.

  His eyes slid to Nicole immediately, sitting at the table already with her father, an enormous grin covering her features that he felt was out of place for the subject of plumbing that they seemed to be discussing. “Oh, good Mason, you’re finally up! You must’ve stayed up late last night!” His attention being turned to Marie at her outburst, eyebrows lifting on his face at the enormous tray of bacon she was trying to finagle onto the table. He did stay up late the night before, if she meant that he hadn’t slept at all, but he only shrugged, picking a piece of the bacon she was putting down off of the platter and tearing it into pieces between his thumb and forefinger for something to do. “Some habits die hard, sit down honey, breakfast is all but ready, we’re lucky Aaron decided to stop over last night, I’ve had plenty of help this morning.”