by S. M. Soto
“Okay, just a little more,” she says from behind me with her hands firmly covering my eyes.
“What are you showing me anyway? You know I hate surprises, Myrah.”
“I promise you’ll like this one. Think of it as an early birthday gift.”
“Fine,” I grumble, and we finally come to a stop.
“Open your eyes, Bea,” she says with a smile in her voice. I slowly blink my eyes open, letting them adjust to the light in the room. The very first thing I notice is my furniture wrapped and covered in plastic. That’s when I see the paint splashes. My eyes dart up to my ceiling and I gasp. Tears spring to my eyes as I walk into the center of the room.
“Do you like it?” His voice trails across my skin from beside me. I hadn’t even realized he was in here, but I should have figured.
Liam has paint splotches all over his white t-shirt and on his hands and arms. He looks handsome, and like a complete mess. A huge grin spreads across my face.
“Liam, you remembered,” I whisper. “I can’t believe you did this for me. It’s beautiful.”
And I’m not lying, it is beautiful. The galaxy is painted on my ceiling, in a kaleidoscope of colors like dark blue and purple, with bright planets, and even brighter colored stars. It’s like looking through a telescope, but it’s on my ceiling, and I can stare whenever I want.
“Of course I remembered. You said you wanted the universe, so, I brought the universe to you, sweet B.”
Warmth fills my chest at his words. I turn back toward him, and the first tear leaks out of the corner of my eye. It’s the most beautiful thing anyone has ever done for me. I don’t understand what’s happening between us lately, but whatever it is, I want it, need it. Just as much as I need my next breath.
I throw myself into his arms, and he squeezes me tightly against his body. I rest my head on his firm chest and inhale his scent that I love so much—a hint of spice and laundry detergent. Lifting my head up, I raise my mouth to his for a soft kiss that sends tingles down my spine and leaves a permanent tattoo on my heart with his name written all over it.
The knocking on my door jolts me out of the memory, prompting me to swipe under my eyes, to rid myself of the tears.
“Hey sweetie, miss me?” My mom’s familiar head of brown hair pokes around the door, peeking into my room, much like she always does.
I force a smile for her sake. “Yeah, I did. How was your trip this time?”
She comes into the room, and sits beside me on the bed, leaving a large gap of respected space between us. She makes no move to hug or kiss me, and for that I’m thankful.
Physical contact with anyone is near impossible after the damage Connor has done. She’s always wondered why one day, her baby girl just stopped being affectionate, and instead turned into someone she no longer recognized. Someone I no longer recognized. I wish I had the heart to tell her. Selfishly, sometimes I even wished she would find out on her own. But Connor was always too smart for that. He was a master at covering his tracks over the years. I was lucky that my mother started me out on birth control at such a young age due to my heavy periods—if you can call that lucky. He was evil—the devil incarnate. And I hated him for breaking me, turning me into this person I am today. Someone I despise just as equally as I despise myself.
If I didn’t know what Connor was capable of, maybe I would’ve told her by now. Told anyone. But I do know what he’s capable of. He’s threatened every person I love, and if keeping this secret for the rest of my life means protecting them? I’ll do it. Every second of every day, I’ll do it.
I watch with disinterest as my mother takes in my dismal existence. Worry flits across her soft features but is briefly brushed aside with a soft smile.
“It was great, sweetie. You’d absolutely love it. Are you hungry? We brought your favorite, from that takeout Chinese place on Main.”
I force another smile and nod my head. That Chinese place hasn’t been a favorite of mine for six years, but I don’t have the heart to tell her so. Liam and I used to eat there together all the time. Instead, I follow her to the kitchen for the long and dreaded family dinner.
“How was the trip to Sweden Mr. and Mrs. Stafford?” Jenny asks.
“Oh honey, it was incredible. So beautiful! You and Connor would love it there. You guys should seriously consider our offer and come along with us for our next trip.”
I grip onto the dining table for support. My eyes prick and my heart clenches at my mother’s words. She’s never once asked me if I wanted to go on vacation with her and Richard. But it’s abundantly clear she wouldn’t mind having Jenny. She’s the daughter she’s never had, the one I’ll never be. If she has errands to run while she’s home, it’s Jenny she brings with her. It’s Jenny she hugs and kisses when she hasn’t seen her, and its Jenny she calls while she’s away. Not me. The realization is like a punch to the gut.
“I’d love to, but Connor is such a workaholic, and he hates leaving Bea here alone, which is completely understandable.”
My mom’s smile falters at the mention of my name, but she pulls herself back together quickly.
“Of course. Well, I do hope you guys will be joining us soon. Next week we leave for Japan, then we’ll work our way around from there, maybe you guys can plan a trip and visit us?” she asks hopefully. Jenny smiles between polite bites of food, and places her hand over Connor’s, squeezing. His hateful eyes drop to mine, and my heart freezes mid-beat.
I hate him so much.
The violent surges of hatred inside me are unhealthy, but I don’t mind them. I let them fester. I wish I was strong enough to beat him—to fight him off, but I’m not. I’ve tried. And he knows that just as well as I do. I’m not a violent person. I never have been, and I never will be.
Once dinner is over, I try to spend as much time near my mother as possible, dreading the moment everyone respectively excuses themselves to their rooms. I stand under the sprays of the shower longer than necessary.
Maybe tonight will be different?
My mind conjures different scenarios that can keep Connor from coming into my room and sliding into my bed tonight. But I know better. The way he looked at me at the dinner table tonight was answer enough for me. No matter what I do, how hard I pray, it’ll never stop. Not until he says so.
My eyes fly open at the all too familiar spring, and creak of my bedroom door. Like someone playing the steel drums inside of me, the pounding of my pulse, and the rushing of the blood throughout my body is all I hear. His footsteps get closer, and every muscle in my body tenses. Sweat beads on my forehead as I protectively curl my legs into my body. The corner of the bed dips with his weight, and dread settles in my stomach, churning violently. Bile rises in my throat and the need to expel the contents in my stomach is stronger than my need to take my next breath.
“Get on your knees,” he whispers harshly in my ear. His warm breath sends a shiver of dread down my spine. I can’t force my limbs to move. They’re stuck—frozen in place. The synapses in my brain are firing off demands for my limbs to move, but nothing happens. Stinging pain erupts throughout my scalp as Connor roughly grips my hair in his fist.
“Get. On. Your. Knees,” he grinds out. I shakily inhale a breath and force my body onto all fours. Tears well in my eyes, and my chest constricts with what’s to come. My underwear and pajama bottoms are yanked down my legs, baring me to Connor. Without warning my face is shoved into the pillows, and Connor thrusts inside of me. I choke on a painful sob into the pillow as the searing pain in my backside becomes raw. He doesn’t let up on my head, he still keeps my face effectively shoved into the pillows making it almost impossible to breathe.
I sob into the pillows trying to push past the excruciating pain of him violating me in a place that is so sensitive. My backside burns in discomfort, like someone with a jagged knife is thrusting it inside of me. The urge to scream for help is on the tip of my tongue but it never releases. My tears, and snot dampen the pillow beneath my face
. His movements behind me slow until they stop completely.
Connor slides out of me brutally without a second thought of being careful and leaves the room fully intact with his dignity—taking mine with him. I cry into my pillows in the same position until my tears dry up, and I’m left a heaving mess. I roll onto my side and stare at the dark fuzzy wall of my bedroom until eventually I fall asleep.
The next morning, I wake up in pain. My backside is so sore, I’m afraid I won’t be able to walk. My eyes drift down to my bare lower half, and the light smears of blood on the sheets. My eyes well with tears, and my body starts shaking violently. With an urgency like never before, I strip my bed clean of the tainted sheets and fall to the floor in a heap. I pull my legs into my chest and drop my head to my knees. Next thing I know, I’m sobbing into the silence of my room, wishing I had a different life. A different family. A different everything.
Pushing through the pain, I force myself to get cleaned up and face everyone in the kitchen for breakfast.
“Bea, honey, have you talked to Myrah at all? Richard and I ran into her at the Chinese restaurant last night. It completely slipped my mind.” My mom says as she delicately scoops eggs and sausage onto her fork.
“No, I haven’t.”
“Well, that’s a shame. You should really try to get out more, you know? Maybe try going back to school? I think that would be really good for you, sweetheart.”
“Shelly, I don’t think school is such a good idea for Bea.” Connor pipes up from his side of the table, making my body tense. “She’s fragile, and I’d hate to see her taken advantage of. She’s safest here at home.”
The urge to roll my eyes at him is all consuming.
After unsuccessfully slitting my wrists about three years ago, my mom and Richard treat me like I’m made of glass. Mom never forced me to get a job or go back to school, she was content with me staying home every day, because she thinks that’s what I need to cope. What I need to make me happy.
“Nonsense, Connor. Shelly’s right, this would be good for her,” Richard says in support of my mother.
“I’m not saying she forgo school altogether, but maybe she should start slow, with a set of online classes or something.”
“I think college is a great idea.” I find myself saying. My words stun everyone. My mother’s face lights up, and she gives me her most genuine smile she’s ever given me within the last few years.
“That’s wonderful, sweetie.” She breathes. “I’m so happy for you.”
I make the mistake of looking up, and meeting Connor’s gaze. His brown eyes look like they’re rimmed with hell-fire. His lips are set into a thin, grim line, and his fists are clenched in anger. He lifts a single brow, and I know, tonight I’ll be paying the consequences of my actions.
PAST
MAY 2011
After forcing Myrah into coming with me, we’re finally leaving Connor’s high school graduation. I begged my mother to let Myrah come with us, I said she was practically family—which is completely true, but that’s not the only reason I invited her. I just didn’t want to be here for Connor by myself. Even though Myrah can’t stand Connor, she agreed to come and be my support system.
Over the last few months, Connor and Myrah have been going toe to toe with each other, constantly arguing and slinging insults at one another. Don’t get me wrong, they’ve always hated each other, but it seems like now…that hate is starting to boil over, for them both. Every time she comes over to visit, the house turns into a war zone which is now why I try to spend all my free time at her place. Anything to avoid my stepbrother. Sometimes when she argues with Connor, he gets this look in his eyes, and it scares the hell out of me. I’d do anything to protect my best friend, but whenever I have the chance, I can’t seem to tell her how dangerous Connor can be. She’s poking a bear, and I’m afraid for not only her, but myself too.
I told my mother tagging along for Connor’s graduation would give Myrah and I the chance to experience what our high school graduation would be like. A year into high school and the novelty of it all has worn off. Myrah and I couldn’t believe this is what we waited so long for, what we were so excited to start. High school was nothing like the movies. That was the cold hard truth.
With Sophomore year only four months away, I’m finally getting the hang of high school life. Knowing what teachers to avoid and who to stay away from. Just like every school, Clear Lake has their fair share of cliques. You have the popular girls, who just so happen to double as the mean girls, too. Then you have the jocks, the asshole jocks, the hot jocks—Liam falls somewhere in between all three. He’s popular, but that’s only to be expected what with how handsome and athletic he is. I’ve seen the way girls in his class, even the upper classmen look at him, like he’s some kind of God.
I hate it.
Almost as much as I hate them.
To me, Liam is more than just his looks and his skillset in baseball. He’s incredibly funny and so much smarter than everyone gives him credit for. Not to mention how protective he is, it’s probably one of my favorite qualities of his. He makes it his mission to check on me constantly, even at school. Granted, I didn’t see him around very much freshman year, but he wasn’t the type to act differently toward me or Myrah around his friends. Sure, I would’ve preferred he throw his arm over my shoulder and kiss me in front of everyone but who am I kidding? I knew that wouldn’t happen. We’ve never made anything official. For all I know, I’m just a girl Liam kisses when he’s bored, but deep down, in that foolish organ in my chest that beats faster and slower whenever he’s around, I know that’s not true. Liam feels this too, he has to.
Once we get home from the graduation, I follow Myrah to her house, so we can hangout. The first thing I notice is Liam’s absence and suddenly, knots start forming in my stomach.
“Hey, where’s Liam?”
“Oh, I think he went to a party his friend is throwing tonight. Something about one of his buddies passing on the torch to him for his senior year.” Myrah looks over at me and rolls her eyes playfully when she notices the expression on my face. “Seriously, Bea, don’t worry. Liam would never do anything to hurt you. It’s just a party.”
“I know.” I force a laugh. “I just…worry. What if he falls for a pretty girl who is closer to his age? I’d be freaking crushed, Myrah. I don’t even know if he’s my boyfriend. I mean, for all I know, he could be sleeping around with a bunch of high school girls all the while kissing me on the side and I don’t even know it.”
Myrah places comforting hands on my shoulders and forces me to look at her. “Bea, you need to trust him. If I knew Liam was doing any of that, you know I wouldn’t hesitate to tell you, and I would’ve already chopped his balls off. Liam hasn’t brought any girls over since the first time you guys kissed and that was like ages ago, B! Don’t freak out. You guys are boyfriend and girlfriend. You suck face with each other almost twenty-four seven.”
“You’re right. I need to be mature about this and trust him. He’s never given me a reason not to.”
“There’s my girl. Now stop complaining and let’s watch a movie. I finally got my hands on Magic Mike.” She waggles her brows. “I don’t know who I’m more excited to see, Channing Tatum, Matt Bomer or Joe Manganiello,” she sighs out with stars in her eyes. I nudge her lightly in the arm, and plop down next to her on the sofa.
Myrah turns the volume on almost full blast since her parents are out late on a date, and we finish watching the movie in silence, drooling over hunky actors. At some point, we must’ve fallen asleep because the sound of the front door closing jolts me awake. I turn wide eyes to the front door, where Liam is walking through.
“Good morning, sunshine.” Liam says with a sexy smirk, “I think you have popcorn in your hair.” He chuckles.
“Myrah.” I groan and pluck the buttery food out of my hair. “What time is it anyway?” I ask on a yawn.
“Almost four.”
Holy crap. We must’ve truly be
en knocked out if we slept through Myrah’s parents coming home.
“You’re barely getting in?” I try to keep the judgement out of my tone. I don’t want to sound crazy or possessive, but I can’t help but wonder what kept him out for so long.
“You miss me, Sweet B?”
I roll my eyes at him. There’s no need to agree, we both know it’s true.
“I drank a bit at the party, so I wanted to sober up before driving, that’s why I was out for so long.”
I nod my head and rub my lips together, unsure of what to say.
“Come on.” He nods his head toward the stairs and reaches his palm out for me. Blowing out a breath, I place my hand in his and follow him. His large hand envelopes mine and a surge of warmth curls in my belly.
Liam pulls me into his room and shuts the door behind us, before placing his mouth over mine in a sensual kiss. The second Liam’s lips connect with mine, everything else falls away. Gone are the worries about other girls and gone are the worries about my stepbrother. It’s just me and Liam—breathing together, existing together, melting together. His lips are soft and warm, and he tastes like peppermint gum; my favorite flavor.
“Did you miss me, Bea?” He asks between kisses. “Because I missed you.” His hands trace down my body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. When his lips skim across my neck, I can’t help but moan out my answer.
“Yes.”
My hands dig into his broad shoulders, grasping at his firm build. Anything to bring him closer. My nipples harden and my thighs clench together as I try to stave off the painful ache that’s been building with each kiss Liam and I share.
A few heated kisses and touches later, Liam pulls away, and says, “Sleep with me tonight.”
