by York, Marie
I detoured to Mark’s office and picked up the box from his desk before heading to change. My phone buzzed in my pocket with a new message, and I took it out to check. Beckham’s name flashed on my screen, and my lip turned up in disgust.
I selected delete, and then for whatever reason, cancelled the request. It’s not that I fucking cared what he had to say, but curiosity got the best of me, and I opened the damn thing.
Beckham: Are you over yourself yet?
My jaw clenched, and I dropped my phone before I cracked the fucking screen. Over myself? He had some goddamned nerve. He was lucky I didn’t get on a fucking plane just to knock him the fuck out.
I cracked my neck, and then my knuckles, trying to relieve some of the tension. Not that it ever fucking worked. My eyes landed on the box, and I took it into my lap, hoping whatever was inside would help.
There was no return address, and no hearts drawn on it. I ripped open the flaps, and before my mind could process what it was, a million fucking spiders crawled out. A scream tore from my throat. I dropped the box and kicked it across the locker room.
I hurried across the room, and Mark came running in. “What the fuck’s wrong?” he asked frantically.
All I could do was point to the box on the other side of the bench. Mark peered over at it, then slowly made his way to it. “What the fuck?” he called out, as he brought his foot down on a bunch of spiders. He reached down and picked up a small white envelope, sliding a small card out.
“Fuck,” he muttered, as he came back to me and handed me the card.
My hands clenched and my veins strained at the words. I snatched it out of Mark’s hand, taking one last look at it.
Fear is a powerful thing.
Seth
Then, I ripped it to a thousand tiny pieces.
Chapter 19
Nixon
I showered three times, and I still felt like I had fucking spiders crawling on me. I was going to murder that son of a bitch. He was messing with the wrong guy. He thought he was getting in my head, but all he was doing was fueling the fire inside me. Between this, and the stuff with Brooklyn, I was dying to get in the cage, and destroy something.
Seth was a dead man.
There was still one question taunting me. How the fuck did he know? He either had someone spying on me, or someone I knew ratted me out. But who would cross me? Only a fucking moron would be that stupid. It was a little suspect that Beckham texted me only moments before I received the package. He betrayed me once and the motive was there. I hadn’t exactly left him or Kennedy alone since I caught them and punched him in the face. Still, Beckham was too much of a pussy, or as he claimed he “had a conscience,” that wouldn’t allow him to do something like that no matter what I’d put him through.
Even if it wasn’t Beckham, someone I knew betrayed me, and everyone was a suspect now. The minute I found out who it was, they were fucking dead, too.
Sassy rubbed up on my leg, and I scooped her up, bringing her to the kitchen to get her some food. As I poured the food into her bowl, my phone vibrated. I picked it up off the counter and nearly dropped Sassy when Brooklyn’s name appeared on the screen.
Brooklyn: Can you meet me at the warehouse in twenty minutes?
I placed Sassy on the floor with her bowl and took off. “Bye, girl,” I called out as I ran out the door, and texted Brooklyn back.
Nixon: I’ll be there.
I peeled out of the parking lot, pushing Tanya to her limits. I made it across town in fifteen minutes, and Brooklyn was already there, waiting for me. She was pressed against the bumper of her car, arms folded, head down, her hair a mess.
She looked broken, and not in the way I had noticed before in the little glimpses when she let her guard down. This was all consuming. Her eyes seemed dull and lifeless and her complexion was pale and sallow. I had an overwhelming desire to take her in my arms and repair every damaged piece of her. I pulled into a space and jumped out of Tanya anxious to get over to her.
Brooklyn finally looked up from the ground as I got to her in three long strides. I reached out needing to feel her skin against mine, her warmth pressed against me, to know that she was okay. But she held her hand up, stopping me, and my feet halted as my body froze in place, surprised at the power she held over me. Nobody could stop me from the thing I desired most, but one hand gesture, and I was like a circus dog taking commands.
“Please,” she muttered as she made eye contact with me. I scanned her face to make sure there was single mark out of place.
“Please what?” I demanded.
Her nose twitched, but she pushed her shoulders back, and stood tall. “You need to stop coming to my place.”
Was she fucking serious? A laugh rumbled up my throat and I ran my hands through my hair, trying to process this whole fucked up situation. “You fucking disappear and then I show up on your doorstep to find out that you’re married. You’re fucking married!” She flinched as my voice rose, but I didn’t stop. I was past caring about hurting her feelings or about scaring her. “Is he the one you wanted to learn to defend yourself against? Tell me.”
Her eyes drifted to the ground, and she fidgeted with her hands. “It doesn’t matter,” she quietly responded, defeat evident in her tone.
“It damn well fucking matters!” I yelled.
“No, it doesn’t!” She looked back up her voice matching my own. “You just need to forget you ever met me.”
I shook my head, “No.”
“Just let it go and leave me alone.”
I knew she was lying to me, and I wanted to argue, tell her she was out of her fucking mind, but how was I supposed to help someone who didn’t want it.
I stared into her eyes as my jaw ticked. “Forgotten,” I sneered. “I don’t want somebody’s damaged leftovers anyway.”
My cheek stung as her hand smacked hard against it. “Asshole!” she screamed and took off, but I grabbed her wrist, pulling her back to me. Pain tainted her beautiful face and she flinched. I loosened my grip, but didn’t let go, taking her sleeve with my other hand, and shoving it out of the way.
Her arm was like a fucking rainbow of abuse. Yellows, blacks, purples and blues marked her skin.
“Did he do this to you?” I demanded, and she jumped at my tone. The fact that she was scared of something as stupid as a raised voice was enough of an answer. Anger boiled to the surface, but somehow, I managed to push it back down. For her. Only her.
I lifted my hand, running my finger along her hairline, and tucking her curls behind her ear. Her eyes slid shut as my fingers trailed down her neck. I inhaled deeply in an attempt to calm myself. “Talk to me. Did he hurt you?”
A tear fell from her closed eyes and she pressed her lips together. “No,” she whispered.
“Don’t lie to me, B.”
She blinked up, her eyes holding so much pain it practically poured out of her. “I have to go,” she choked out.
I wrapped my hand around her head, and drew her close, pressing my forehead to hers. “I’m not letting you go back there.” She was out of her fucking mind if she actually thought I would let her go back to that abusive fuck.
She pulled away and I let her. “I have to.”
The anger finally pushed its way to the surface and I exploded. “What the fuck are you talking about? You don’t have to do shit.” She flinched at my tone and I couldn’t bare it. I took her hand in mine and pulled her back to me, cradling her in my arms. “Stay here with me, and if he comes, I’ll protect you,” I said against her ear.
She wiped at the newly fallen tears and stared me straight in the eyes. The pain had turned to fear. “That’s what I’m scared of. I know once you start hitting him, you won’t be able to stop. You’ll kill him.”
I clenched my teeth to keep from raising my voice. “The bastard deserves to die.”
She took my face in her hands, forcing me to look at her. “His blood will not be on your hands because of me.”
I to
re my head out of her hold and stepped back. The desire to hit something was strong, but I couldn’t storm away, and take my frustrations out on the bag. Not yet. I still had questions. I clenched my fists, and tried to calm the fuck down. “So, you’re just going to go back to him? Be his personal punching bag?”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Can you?” I grasped her arm and brought it up to her face. “Look at this! Look what he’s fucking done to you.” She turned her head away, refusing to look. “Look,” I insisted.
She squeezed her eyes shut and snatched her arm back, tucking her hands into the pockets of her baggy pants. Her chest rose and fell as she took deep breath after deep breath. Finally, she glanced up at me. A storm brewed in those gray eyes of her as she squared her shoulders. “Just stay away from me.”
My teeth ground at her words. “That’s what you want?”
She didn’t say anything, just nodded.
“Fine.” She didn’t want my help. Wanted to stay with that piece of shit then I wasn’t going to beg her. She had a choice and she just made it.
The asshole inside of me couldn’t just let her walk away. I wanted to hurt her as badly as she was hurting me right now, so I stepped closer to her and smirked. “You were just another hole to stick my dick in anyway. And when you warned me it wouldn’t happen, you became a game. Girls like you are a dime a dozen.”
Shock shot across her face, and I could tell she was about to come at me, but then she stopped herself. Her shoulders sunk in defeat. “You’re right. I am.” She hurried to her car, stopping before she jumped in, and turned back to me. “Goodbye, Nix.”
The finality in her words, punched deep, and I never hated myself more than I did in that moment.
Chapter 20
Brooklyn
One of the hardest things I ever had to do was stand there while Nix said those horrible things, and act like they didn’t destroy me. Because they did. He might as well have reached into my chest and ripped my heart out with his bare hand. Didn’t he get that I was doing this for him? For us.
Staying with Karl and keeping up this pitiful excuse for a marriage was the only way I knew how to protect Nix from himself. Karl wouldn’t let me go and he’d definitely come after me if I made another attempt to leave him. Nix wouldn’t let him and he’d wind up in jail on murder charges. Nix was willing to sacrifice himself for me. He said he didn’t care, but I did. That guilt would eat away at me and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. This was a no-win situation for any of us, but I’d learned to endure Karl’s psychotic antics, and I would continue to do so until I could find a way out that did not jeopardize Nix and his future. I had to keep him out of my nightmare and find a way out on my own.
I glanced at the clock on the dashboard. It was only a quarter after ten. Karl had come home early, and I knew his quest to find some girl at a bar didn’t go well. He had that predatory look in his eyes, so to buy time, I offered to fix him a plate for dinner.
I smashed up the sleeping pill and stuck it in his mashed potatoes, then excused myself to shower. By the time I had gotten out, he was asleep on the couch. From previous experience, I knew he’d be out for at least a solid eight hours. It was the only reason I was able to meet up with Nix. And, even though the meeting with Nix played out exactly as I hoped, I was full of regrets. More pissed about my past, and the baggage I couldn’t free myself of.
Then again, even if a miracle were to happen, and I could be with Nix, was going from one abusive man to the next really that smart? Granted, I didn’t think Nixon would ever lay a hand on me, but I couldn’t help but remind myself that I once thought the same thing about Karl. Nix possessed that same instinct towards rage as Karl did. Nix, however, used it as fuel to obliterate his opponents when fighting. It’s what had pushed him to the top of his game. How could I ever trust him to not unleash that same rage on me if we were to somehow be together?
Then again, every time he touched me, he was gentle. Even when rage was fueling him, he never dug his fingers into my skin or raised a hand to me. Whenever I would flinch at him, he would get angry and not because he wanted to hit me but because he couldn’t believe that I thought he would.
I had so many thoughts and emotions battling it out in my mind. I was all over the place and couldn’t think clearly. Or maybe I was thinking too clearly.
I unlocked my door and stepped into the apartment. My heart came to a frantic halt as I realized Karl wasn’t on the couch. Very slowly, I stepped inside, and eased the door closed behind me, but once I did, I spotted Karl in the kitchen.
He was sitting statue straight at the table as he stared directly ahead of him. How was he awake? There was no possible way. Maybe he wasn’t. Maybe it was a form of sleep walking. I treaded lightly to the kitchen and gasped when he tilted his head toward me, his eyes filled with deadly intent.
“Karl, sweetie, I just went out for…um…” My eyes landed on the pill bottle in his hand. “Some fresh air,” I blurted unable to come up with any other excuse. Fear consumed every part of me, paralyzing me in place. Where did he get those from? I put them away. Hid them under the damn floor board. I know I did. How could he have found them?
Fear crept up my neck, paralyzing me in place. I swallowed down the lump lodged in my throat and braced myself.
“You must think I’m really fucking stupid,” he scoffed.
Suddenly, I became the sad, terrified, pathetic girl I used to be. I averted my eyes to the floor. “No, not at all.”
He jumped up from the chair and latched onto my throat. With the force of all hundred and ninety pounds of him, he smashed me against the wall. Pain radiated up my spine as my back crashed against the sheetrock.
“Don’t you talk back to me, you bitch,” he snarled.
I tried to take soothe calming breaths to keep from going into panic mode, but his fingers dug deeper into my skin, his grip becoming unbearably strong, making it impossible to get air in.
“You thought I wouldn’t figure it out.” He pulled his arm back, my neck still in his grasp, and slammed my head back against the wall. “Find out that you’ve been drugging me, so you can go out whoring yourself.”
Everything around me began to spin as my vision became blurry, and my lungs struggled desperately for air. I could feel the energy being sucked from my body, powerless to his death grip. Maybe this time he would actually finish me off. Free me of this horrible curse of a life. I closed my eyes and prayed for an end. Instead, of finding peace in my surrender, I found Nixon.
Our nights together in the ring popped into my head, reminding me that I wasn’t powerless. I was capable. More capable than I was giving myself credit for. If I didn’t act now, I knew for a fact he would kill me just like…
He moved into me and I knew this was my chance. My opportunity to finally fight back. To show this piece of shit that I was done cowering in a corner and letting him hurt me, so I lifted my knee, and drove it into his crotch with the force and rage of years of abuse. His hold on me loosened as his face contorted in pain. The fury overtook the pain though, and he shook it off, tightening his fingers even more. I reached up grabbing for his hand as my airway was completely blocked of air.
“You little fucking bitch,” he growled.
Pressure built in my eyes and head, but I wouldn’t give up. I was struggling for air and fighting to stay conscious as Nixon’s words filled my mind. You see this hand? This is the hand you have to worry about. This hand is the one that usually finishes the choke. You want to grab it, and try to get it off of you, but remember to stay active. Keep fighting. So, while you are trying to get the hand off, continue to stomp his feet, and keep trying to land an elbow to the body. If you get an elbow to the body, pull that down, and punch him in the groin. Then, shove the hand off, and duck out from the hold.
The position was different, but it was my only chance. Instinct took over and I stomped Karl’s foot with as much energy as I could muster and then drove my fist into his side
. I continued attacking, and he finally let his hand fall away from my throat as he grabbed both my hands and pinned me back against the wall, pushing his weight into me.
I wasn’t out of danger, but at least I could breathe. I gasped for air as he pressed his face to mine. “So, where were you? With that guy? Fucking whore. You want to be a whore. I’ll treat you like a whore.” He locked his one hand around both of my wrists, and smacked me across the face.
A sharp stinging ache shot through my cheek as I bit back a cry. His hand went right to his zipper and he pulled out his dick. I was disgusted to see how hard he was. Repulsed that hurting me could turn him on.
I squirmed against his hold and kicked violently. I would not allow him to rape me. Not again. Never again,
“Hold still, you cunt!”
I refused. I’d rather die than allow him to get any pleasure out of me. “No!” I screamed and then spit in his face.
He became enraged. I could see fire in his eyes as he momentarily let me go to wind his arm back and deck me in the eye. It happened so fast that there wasn’t even time to try and duck or move out of the way. Pain spread through my skull, throbbing so intensely it was all I could focus on.
I slumped against the wall, and crumbled in a heap to the ground. Karl came at me again, his dick flopping freely from his zipper. I struggled to get away, but the ache in my face became too strong, and everything went black.
Chapter 21
Nixon
I paced the warehouse, too caught up in my own thoughts. I came in here with the intention of beating the bag until the damn thing broke free of its restraints, or my knuckles split open, but every time I walked over to it, I just walked away.
What I had said to Brooklyn was no different than I’ve said to tons of girls, but this time I felt…guilty. Beating on the bag or lifting weights wouldn’t help. I thought about leaving here and finding a girl to fuck, but then I remembered the last time I did that, and how well it went. The only girl I wanted to put my dick anywhere near was Brooklyn.
