The Carrero Heart_The Journey_Arrick and Sophie

by L. T. Marshall

  ‘Don’t call it that.’ I slap his hand off me as his grip moves to my arm and I manage to dart away, enough to escape back to the lounge without hands getting hold of me again, but he follows me fast on my heels. In rage mode, dog with a bone and not willing to just let this go like I want him too.

  ‘Why? It’s what it is. A fuck… It’s sex, not exactly the be all and end all to a relationship. You are over reacting to this crazily.’ He doesn’t exactly yell, he angrily snaps in a slightly raised tone, but it has the same effect and I can’t even comprehend how much of an asshole he is being to me right now over this.

  Who the hell are you?

  ‘How can you say that? Sex matters! … It clearly mattered when you weren’t getting enough of it from her…. Is that why you have a constant porn channel on your TV?’ I throw at him, thinking back to one stupid flick of a button that had revealed a whole porn menu on his TV box not so long ago. Head a tumbling mess of irrational thoughts and trying to piece together some sense in the crazy emotions consuming me right now. I’m hurt, angry, yet also in pain and I feel like he’s wrenching my heart out by being a completely different person to who I need right now.

  ‘For the love of god woman…. You realise I have like four mates who stay here regularly and they all download porn, because they are guys and that’s what guys do. You want me to say I have never watched it? I have, big deal, and sex with Natasha isn’t relevant in any way. Sex with you…. It was happening Sophie, you are the only one who flipped out and stopped it. I don’t even get what this is we are even fighting about.’ Arrick is yelling at me now, properly, the way I am yelling at him, completely oblivious to my tears, despite always claiming he can’t stand to see me cry. It just wounds me more in my crazily sensitive frame of mind and I feel real hate for him in this moment, real blood boiling, I cannot stand to even look at you right now, ‘you fucking asshole’, kind of hate. It takes me by sheer surprise that I can feel this much venom for someone I love so much. He’s making me feel crazier than anything Natasha can do to me.

  ‘So now you’re pissed because I stopped it? Because you said If I wanted to stop I could, and now you’re getting fucking angry at me. And I am supposed to feel secure with you?’ I sob loudly, wounded, confused, head chaotic with nonsensical nonsense and drunken stupidity clouding my head. My words are like daggers, thrown with intent and venom at someone I don’t like very much right now. He reacts to the tone as much as what I say, narrowing his gaze icily, obviously feeling the same level of disillusionment with me in this moment.

  ‘For fucks sakes… Don’t twist my words. It’s not why you stopped it. You stopped over some jealous irrational bullshit, because Natasha dared to call my cell. Something I had no fucking control over.’ Arrick swoops down and pulls off his sneakers, throwing them across the room angrily as though curbing the urge to hit something, or someone, and buttons up his shirt for no apparent reason. Glaring at me with equal hate intent and obviously fuming with a rage that is matched to mine. I just feel in this moment that we are completely broken and falling into disrepair and it just kills me inside.

  ‘Go fuck yourself…Or her… I am past caring anymore.’ I bite back cruelly, heart ripping in two and turn to start looking for my shoes in a bid to just walk out and leave him here. Before the tidal wave of emotion, I can feel soaring up to overwhelm me hits and I can no longer function with the pain he can cause me. I know he has the ability, he did it once before.

  ‘Is that what this is? You think I want to go back to fucking her? How many times Sophie, do I need to tell you, that I chose you? I am tired of having to repeat that every time you get jealous like this. It’s exhausting to have to constantly backtrack over this shit.’ Arrick sways on his feet again, runs a hand through his hair and sits down on the nearest chair, putting his head between his hands as though he either realises he’s too drunk or maybe just to try and calm his temper.

  ‘I can’t deal with you like this. We’re both drunk and angry. I’ll sleep out here. Just go…. Go to bed.’ He snaps at me coldly, clear he’s decided he doesn’t want to put up with juvenile Soph’s and her womanly meltdown anymore. Sitting back to stare right at me with no level of emotion on show anymore and a dismissive wave of his fingers, like I am an obedient little puppy.

  Clearing mixing me up with his ex fucking girlfriend once again!

  ‘Did you leave her because of me… Or because you were already looking for a way out?’ I blurt out, through tears, thinking only of the things the girls said about his sex life with Natasha, about how he never seemed happy. The titbits of their gossip filtering through and coming back at me out of sequence, as I try to remember what they said exactly. So consumed obsessively with this now that it’s all in my head swirling around, clouded logic, colouring everything.

  ‘What kind of a question is that?’ He looks up at me completely baffled as to how my head works, like he no longer knows me at all. Dumbfounded that he thinks I can be so stupid and it just makes me worse, hate him so much more.

  ‘Anna said that Natasha didn’t have sex with you very often, that she didn’t like it. You obviously weren’t happy with her, if you left her for me… Is that what is going to happen to us?’ I sob pathetically, heart really shredding with this possibility, glaring at him insecurely, not even sure what I need him to say anymore, now my brain is on a one-way road to complete hysterics.

  ‘Arghhh!’ Arrick moans out angrily, rubbing his face and jumps to his feet, pacing past me while blowing out air and storming to the kitchen, as though he cannot get his head around me anymore. It’s clear he is starting to lose his temper in every way, I know the signs on him and when he’s like this I should let him alone to go simmer and cool down, but I just can’t. Every part of him is tense and rigid, his movements angry and aggressive, his face tight and jaw angular as he grits his teeth. He yanks open the fridge door and hauls out a beer, looking for an opener as he bangs things around.

  ‘Answer me.’ I scream at him hysterically, really losing the plot and feeling like my insides are caving in, despite all logic telling me to back off and shut up for like ten minutes while he simmers. Arrick slams his bottle down so hard that it overflows with foam and spills everywhere, grits his teeth harder and turns on me aggressively with almost insanely pure green eyes that burn into my soul. Two fiery natured hot heads caught in a drunken battle where emotion has tipped it all to volcanic proportions and he looks terrifying to me right now.

  ‘You think fucking is the issue here?… Sex is the be all and end all to this whole stupid mess? Fine Sophie, lets solve it right now. If you think this relationship depends on me fucking you, then let’s put it to bed once and for all. Literally. I mean we were practically there anyway. Let’s fuck!’ He explodes at me, walks towards me fast, look murderous with a biting tone and hauls me over with him back to the couch. Handling me like I am some weightless toy and not like he normally touches me at all; he walks me at speed to the couch and pushes me down a little hard, so that I fall back and land harshly on my ass. I’m completely stupefied, heart pounding through my chest as adrenalin rushes me and renders me momentarily breathless and pliable. Shocked into submission at how he’s being.

  He makes like he is going to get on top of me, looking like the devil himself. I yelp in fright that he would even manhandle me like this while fighting, that he is acting this way, looking completely disconnected to anything I have ever known about him and regretting not giving him space after all. My anger drops to instant fear and suddenly I don’t even know him at all, no longer feel safe with this person in front of me and begin to choke on my own panic as it consumes me.

  ‘Take your dress off and I will fuck you right now.’ He stands over me, tone biting and cruel, looking nothing like the guy I trust and love, caging me in at the couch as though waiting for me to obey. He looks angry and aggressive and completely emotionally detached, eyes fully glowing green and furrowed brow. My heart flips over, terror running cold in my blood.
I make to get up, sliding over to get out from his blockage and move away from him, but he catches me and hauls me back to him hard. There’s nothing gentle in the grip he has on me and my blood runs cold in my veins, body beginning to tremble that he means to do this to me

  ‘You wanted to have sex, you think it’s going to fix this fucking mess, so get undressed. You want this, keep pushing me to do it. So I’ll fucking do it!’ He snaps coldly at me, his face expressionless and I feel my insides crumble, shaking my head weakly as fear over takes my voice and I can’t formulate a single word.

  My Arry isn’t here right now, some cruel asshole with a cold look in his eye is telling me that like it or not I am about to be fucked and it is doing nothing but making my body recoil in terror, so many conflicting emotions and fears flitting into my brain and colliding like a tidal wave of emotion. My hands start to get clammy, body goes cold and I start to breathe heavily with the realisation that I am on the verge on an anxiety attack so quickly. Walls closing in and the one person I always trusted to help me through, keep me safe, is looking at me like he hates me right now and causing all of this

  ‘You want me to take it off?’ He sneers at me, bends down to grab the hem of my dress and yanks it up as instinct just over takes me. Sudden blinding fear and panic hitting me hard in the chest, heart racing, brain crashing, an impulsive instant response from years of having to defend myself, somehow connects as I start lashing out at him. Blind fury and tears, in a bid to stop whatever is about to happen in me. Lost in the crippling flashback of pain, oblivious to my whereabouts anymore and crying out in anguish that I am back there, alone and afraid and he’s about to hurt me in the worst possible way.

  I feel muscle around me, arms gripping tight, warm skin on mine as I try like crazy to fight back; completely lost in my own internal darkness now and the memories of shadows and pain and so much pain. I can hear someone screaming, yelling, but it’s so far and disconnected from me that I can’t even begin to find them or where it’s coming from. So completely consumed in the fight to keep myself from being broken all over again with no hope of escape this time.

  Like a flash of light, a trickle of lucidity, I am suddenly on the floor with him on top of me, trying to restrain my arms against every part of me, fighting tooth and nail while tears pour down my face.

  ‘No, NO …NOOOOO!’ I am screaming hysterically; I am the noise I could hear so far away, it was me; I was the screaming girl in the distance who sounded like she was being savaged by dogs. It snaps me into instant silence as I realise I am not back in that dark room with the rancid air around me, suffocating me. I’m encased in strong arms and solid steel restraints made of muscle.

  The walls cave back in, darkness taking control as I panic again, and I am no longer aware of what’s happening to me, to us. All I can feel is the sheer terror and fear and crippling suffocation of an attack, face soaked, and coughing so much I start retching, still fighting hard to save myself from a pain I never want to go back to. I can’t let that ever happen to me again, I won’t let anyone do that to me.

  I’ll fight. I’ll always fight.

  ‘Sophie.. Baby…Come back to me. Please stop. Sophie, I’m sorry. Baby look at me, we’re home, you’re safe and it’s me. No one is going to hurt you.’ Arricks strained voice is coming through the haze, torn and gentle. Raw with emotion. My real Arry’s voice, that calming wave of security. Holding me down, his nose to mine as I wriggle and fight off my attacker in various levels of memory that makes me blind to my reality. Lost in being held down and beaten into submission, unwilling to ever yield, to ever let him take me.

  ‘Noooo, no… No means NO.’ I sob over and over, fighting until my limbs go weak and I can’t fight anymore, my brain letting go of the dark cloud that is keeping me locked inside my own head as his face comes into soft focus and all I can see is hazy hazel and green eyes, bringing me back into the light, calming the craziness of my head enough to bring me back to him. Appearing above me like a sudden awakening from a terrible nightmare. I can barely breathe, panting and gasping hard, choking on my own tears.

  ‘Please stop, look at me….. We’re not back in Illinois. Sophie, we’re in Manhattan, you’re in my apartment baby. You’re safe….. Breathe, slow and steady, breathe with me; listen to me.’ His voice comes through the panic once more and makes me lose all resolve, fight in me dying as fatigue over takes me and I realise I am held tight in his arms. His muscles, his strength. Gasping and shoving with all my might and strangling myself with the inability to catch my breath. I inhale heavily, as my surroundings start to take shape and cough again at the sudden rush of air that makes me feel like I might be sick.

  ‘Don’t.’ I croak brokenly, not even sure why I say it, eyes screwing shut as pain consumes me. Only realising I am still on the floor of Arricks apartment when I lose all strength and begin to feel the hard wood beneath me, cold and solid. Starting to get my bearings once more. I flicker my eyes open, sniffing hard, still struggling to catch my breath.

  Arrick looks completely devastated, holding my wrists and body taught with every part of his, even my feet are pinned with his legs, to control my violent outburst. His eyes full of tears, his face looks scratched, he has blood on his bottom lip and a hand print across his cheek. I don’t remember doing that to him, but his heavy breathing suggests he has just had a hell of a battle to control me and restrain me and the way he is holding me down means he has tried to stop me from hurting myself. I know him, this isn’t the first time he’s had to help me when I was consumed in the past.

  ‘I’m sorry baby. Sophie look at me. It’s me. It’s Arry. I would never hurt you that way. I’m sorry, so very sorry.’ He moves slowly, bringing his nose to mine. I flinch away, still caught in another place of darkness and rage in parts of my mind and look at him with sheer mistrust, fresh tears rolling down my face. His expression crumbles more, unconcealed heart break over that face that I love so much but right now I just can’t connect the two.

  ‘I’m going to let you go now… Just stay calm, I don’t want you to hurt yourself.’ He swallows hard and painfully slowly takes the iron grip from my wrists as he moves his dead weight from on top of me. Carefully, cautiously untangling his limbs so that I can have control of myself back.

  As soon as I feel the relief of pressure and the feel of weight relieving, I skate backwards on hands and butt curling up into a ball at the foot of the couch; my back pressed hard against the surface, eyes wide, watching him like a scared animal. In this frame of mind, I trust no one, no one gets to touch me, and I am barely here. Ready to lash out and defend myself again, ready to take on any cruel hands or naked flesh which wants to defile me over and over. I retch again as I cough back sick, swallowing down the tears and panic and try to regulate my breathing back from hysterical panting. My own fingers gripped around my legs, so I can be as small as possible and hide from the approaching shadows.

  Arrick lifts defensive palms and sits back on his haunches, breathing heavily, his eyes never leaving mine, he looks so devastated in this moment. It claws at my defences a little, pulls me an inch closer to reality and away from the foggy dreamlike state I am halfway in and out of.

  ‘I’m not going to touch you. I swear.’ He sits down lower on the ground, keeping his distance. All I can do is watch his every movement, body alert in panic mode, ready to run as soon as I regain enough strength to do so. Knowing how important it is to stay tight until I can get enough energy and strength back. Curling my legs against me harder and closed up so no one can get in without fighting me first. Wrapping my arms around them protectively to shield exposed skin from unwanted touch, crossing my ankles over my most sacred parts as a barrier. I just stare at him, cowering inside my head, battling to get free of the darkness that is trying to pull me backwards into insanity.

  ‘Don’t look at me like that baby. I’m not him….. I would never do that to you.’ Arricks voice breaks and his eyes well up. All I can do is try and reel my mind back to where I
am, what’s happening to me and start to cry silently again; more gently and less hysterical as the realisation comes crashing in that I’m really here. That this isn’t a dream, that I am sat in his apartment on the floor, surrounded by broken things that were knocked and pushed in the struggle he obviously had. I blink awake more, aware I probably just attacked Arry of all people as I start to really see him come into real focus.

  His mouth is bleeding, his neck and wrist have scratches, and the hint of red marks which may bruise. I can see his shirt is torn at one shoulder and there’s blood from gouges under the thin material gaping open; yet I am completely unhurt, unscathed. Despite my hell hath no fury lashing out, fighting for my life, he must have only restrained me and pulled me down to hold me tight, there isn’t one tiny mark on me. I feel nothing in terms of injury or bruises or even where he held me tight, there’s not a sign of redness. This fact makes me even more desolate about what I have just done to him and I sob, guilt crashing through me at a hundred miles an hour with a tonne weight now that I am finally coming back to my reality.

  ‘No means No.’ I whisper quietly, like a calming chant that I used to repeat to myself over and over, un-focusing my eyes to just concentrate on the blur of my own tears. Locked inside my own head to find my own calm right now. When I needed somewhere else to go and endure what was happening, this is how I did it. It’s nonsensical, but it brings me a sense of control.

  ‘You’re right….. No means No… It will always mean No, baby. I will never cross that line, never make you afraid.’ Arrick soothes at a distance, raising his brows in the most heart wrenching look of regret, his voice wobbling with the emotions he is trying hard to keep in check, but I can only feel the deafening pain of my heart pounding through my head. Holed up tight within myself, protecting my body. He slowly moves towards me on his knees a little, and freezes when I tense up impulsively. I am still perched on the edge of a knife, trying to calm myself and get a grip on reality.