by Sienna Blake
I brush a lock of hair from his forehead. “You don’t have to buy me things.”
“I just need you to know how sorry I am.” He takes out a box from his pocket and places it in my hand.
It’s a jewelry box about the size of my palm. What has he done for me? He grins at me in encouragement. I open the lid.
Sitting among the silk lining is a silver credit card. With my name marked across it.
11
The present
The credit card was just the start.
Jewelry, a new laptop, a new phone, clothes, shoes, trips away to luxury hotels. They came like clockwork after he became angry because I didn’t spend enough time with him, my studying made me tired, I didn’t call him back quick enough, the dress I was wearing was too short. He even tried to buy me a car, which I flatly refused.
At the time I believed it was because he loved me so much that it made him that way. I was so stupid.
Without a job I became more and more reliant on Jacob. I was hesitant to use the credit card at all. It was just supposed to be until I got another job. But for some reason no one would hire me.
“You barely spent anything on the card this month,” Jacob says.
“I got food and paid my bills. It’s enough.”
“My money not good enough for you?”
“No! I just−”
“Then go shopping, buy something pretty or something sexy…”
But when Jacob was lovely, he was so, so lovely. He looked after me like I was something special. Precious. Like a princess. His princess. I loved the way he would grab me by the back of my neck when we walked out in public. Like he wanted the world to know that I belonged to him.
He was intense and loving and wanted me with a fiery passion, and he would take me wherever I would let him. I used to love the way he devoured me with those dark eyes when he had his tongue buried between my legs.
He was burying himself deeper and deeper into my life. Like roots of a large tree into the sides of a cliff. Deeper and deeper until taking that tree away would cause a landslide.
I remember the day when it all started to crumble.
12
Five years ago
It’s late when I finish studying with a group of college friends. Winston, one of the guys, insists on walking me back to my dorm, which is all the way on the other side of campus. As we walk, I listen to Winston talk about his plans for the summer. He’s cute, blue-eyed with hair like corn fields, he looks and talks like he was raised on grits and sweat tea. He’s sweet and lovely and the kind of guy my parents would have loved for me to take home. If they were alive.
Not like Jacob.
Thinking of Jacob causes a flutter in my stomach. I’m supposed to meet him later. He’s picking me up at my dorm to take me out to one of his clubs in about an hour, which gives me plenty of time to get changed into the dress he instructed me to wear.
Winston and I stop at the steps of my building.
“Are you coming to Dee’s party this Saturday?” he asks.
“I think so.” Jacob hasn’t wanted to meet any of my friends or come to any of my college parties or anything, so I doubt he’d want to come.
“Cool, cool. So I was thinking that we could get a bite somewhere and go to the party together.”
“That sounds good. Who else is coming?”
“I meant, as a ‘you and me’ thing.”
Oh. I hadn’t realized Winston felt that way. I run through my last few interactions with him and hope I haven’t said or done anything overly friendly to lead him on. “Winston, that’s very sweet but… you know I’m seeing someone, right?”
He frowns. “I’ve never seen you with anyone. I just assumed… Sorry.”
I smile and try to shrug off the awkwardness that has arisen between us. “It’s okay. He’s not a student. But we’re still friends, right?”
Winston smiles. “Of course.”
I don’t notice the black car pull up as Winston gives me a hug and kisses me on the cheek goodbye until he starts to walk away. Jacob slams the car door shut behind him. He’s early. And he’s scowling. His eyes are dark and he looks mean.
“Who the fuck was that?” as he stalks towards me he stabs his finger at Winston’s back.
“That’s Winston. He’s just a college friend. A friend.”
“Did he just put his fucking hands on you? Did I see the fucker put his motherfucking lips on you?”
“Shh, baby, please.” I glance up at my dorm windows and hope no one can hear Jacob yelling. I reach out for him when he stops in front of me. “It was just a hug and a peck on the cheek goodbye.”
“Just a kiss? Just a fucking kiss?” His hand grips around my neck. It’s so tight and sudden, I don’t have time to scream before my air is trapped inside my lungs. The choking sensation pushes tears up to my eyes. “Where? Where did he put his filthy fucking mouth on you?” His other thumb scrapes across my cheek like he’s trying to wipe away any trace of Winston. Oh my God. I can’t breathe. My fingers tear at his hand around my neck.
“You’re hurting me, Jacob” I choke out.
“I’m hurting you? You’re fucking hurting me, princess.” He slams his left hand against his chest and it makes a sharp deep thudding noise. “Right here. You’re hurting me right fucking here.”
He lets go of my neck and I heave a large breath in. I feel dizzy. I flinch when Jacob leans in. His eyes are dark and mean and brittle like coal and his voice hisses and spits at me like a fire. “Winston needs to learn who you belong to. If he touches you again, I’ll fucking kill him.”
“He didn’t know any better. But he knows now that I’m with you. It’s fine, baby, please leave him alone.”
Jacob grabs my arm in a vice. I know he means to hurt me. “Ow! Don’t.”
“Wait,” he yells back to his driver. Jacob drags me through the dorm doors by my arm. I stumble trying to keep up.
I pray that no one is walking through the corridors at this moment and sees me like this. My cheeks flame with embarrassment. The stairs blur behind my tears and every time I trip I can feel his grip tighten around my arm, cutting off more of my circulation. When he throws open my dorm room I sag with relief when I see the room is empty. Trisha is out. I don’t want to have to try to explain this to her.
He slams the door behind us and his hands come up to shove me. I whimper as my back hits the door. This isn’t right. I shouldn’t be scared of Jacob.
Then he’s on me. His lips are hard and bruising and he shoves his tongue straight into my mouth. He’s trying to wipe away any remnant of Winston from me. Jacob grunts from his throat. He pulls away and my lips tingle from being crushed. “I’m the only one who loves you, princess. I’m the only one who really cares. Winston just wants to fuck you. He doesn’t really care.”
He’s hurting. I can see in his eyes and hear in the crushing pain in his voice that he’s hurting. It hurts me that he is hurting.
I hurt him, I realize. I upset him. I need to fix it. I press kisses to his face and run my hands across the back of his neck because I know he likes it. I know it soothes him. He needs me to soothe him right now.
He starts to unbuckle my jeans. “He needs to know who you belong to, princess. You need to know who you belong to.”
“You. Of course, baby. I know.” It’s because Jacob loves me so much that he’s like this. He just loves me this much.
My jeans are stripped from me and kicked aside. I’m shoved back against the door, the edge of his left forearm pressing against my throat. His fingers slip inside my underwear. “He needs to fucking know who this pussy belongs to.”
I gasp as tingles rush through my body making me lightheaded. How can this feel so wrong yet so right? “Yours, baby,” I choke out. “All yours. Please, let−”
“Mine. That’s fucking right.”
His hand pulls from my underwear then I hear a sing of metal. When I look down I see a knife gripped in his right hand. Oh God. What is he do
ing?
“Do you know? Do you really? Or do I need to teach you a lesson?”
“No, Jacob, Please.” Oh God. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. My stomach twists and I choke on my own bitter bile. This is what horror tastes like.
He removes his forearm and I gasp for air. He places the blade against the side of my neck. The cold metal burns my skin. I squeeze my eyes shut.
He leans in, his breath hot around me. He whispers in my ear, words I will never forget.
“Your body, your blood, your life…belong to me.”
I cry out as the blade slides across my skin making a shallow line of pain. I hear his grunting and feel his wet feral tongue. He sucks the blood off my neck as he pushes himself inside me. It hurts because I’m tight around him like I’m trying to keep him out. My legs give out like the wooden limbs of a puppet. I slip a little until his hips slam me back up against the door.
“Who do you belong to?”
“Y-you.” The voice that squeaks out of my mouth doesn’t sound like mine. I want to slap this broken thing I have become. I want to slap her and hug her and take her away. But I can’t. I can’t move. So I just cry inside for her. I cry and I die a little.
“Louder.”
“You.”
“I want to hear you screaming it.”
Again and again, he slams me against the door, loud and angry like an animal marking his territory, making me repeat after him. I choke on each word. He doesn’t seem to care who hears us.
Suddenly his movements slow.
“Open your eyes.”
I don’t dare disobey him. I open my lids, but I keep my gaze down. His hand cups my face and it’s gentle. So gentle.
“Look at me baby, please,” he says. Now his voice sounds pained, so pained like he’s on the verge of tears. I look up in surprise and see the hurt creasing his furrowed brows.
“Oh my God,” he breathes. His shaking fingers wipe at the tears spilling from my lids. Tender. This is tender Jacob. He has come back to me. The man I love has come back. “Look what you do to me. I just… I just love you so fucking much. So much that you make me crazy. So fucking crazy. You understand that, right?”
I nod and his palms caress my cheeks. He leans in and sucks on my bottom lip. He pulls his erection out almost all the way, stopping at my entrance. He pushes a thumb inside the corner of our mouths and rubs my tongue with it. It tugs at my lips when he pulls it free. His hand drops between us and his palm presses against my lower belly. His wet thumb finds my clit and I flinch. He starts to rub me and to move inside me again with short and shallow thrusts. His mouth stays near mine, alternating between sucking on my tongue and drinking in my breath. It shouldn’t but it starts to feel good.
I shouldn’t, but I moan as the pressure builds inside me.
“I just love you so fucking much. I would die if any other man ever touched you. You know that, right?”
“Yes.”
“You love me, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“So come for me, baby. Do it now.”
His thumb vibrates across me and he leans back so he can thrust himself deeper inside me. Oh God. My insides shatter like broken bones and a heat ebbs through me like a bruise. My head hits the door and for a moment I’m lost amongst stars, among angels, far away from this man and this monster who are one in the same.
As the gravity takes over and I descend into my body, my lower belly clenches with guilt. Bastard. I hate that he can still make me come.
He wraps his fingers in my hair too tightly. I feel the pop of some of my hair from my scalp and I wince. I don’t dare tell him that he’s hurting me.
He forces my eyes to his. “No one will be able to touch you the way I do. No one.”
I hate that I believe him.
Next Monday, I’m waiting in our usual spot in our lecture hall for our class to start. I have pulled all the hair over one side of my shoulder to cover the bandage on my neck. I frown when I notice that Winston isn’t here. Winston is usually one of the first of us to arrive.
For a second I get a momentary flash of panic. What if Jacob…? But I shake it off before I dare finish the thought. I can’t think this way about the man I love. If I keep doubting our love, it will ruin me. It will ruin us.
Winston’s probably just sick. Or maybe he slept in. Or he’s still recovering from Dee’s party on the weekend that I didn’t go to. Or got called into work. There are so many reasons why Winston wouldn’t be here.
I try to ignore his empty seat and focus on the lecture.
The niggling worry comes again when Winston isn’t here for lectures on Tuesday.
Or Wednesday.
“Does anyone know where Winston is?” I ask the other guys in our group. I’m met with shakes of their heads.
“I think he’s sick,” one of the girls says.
Sick. Poor Winston.
I’m not being picked up by Jacob until later tonight and I have a few hours to spare after my last class. Winston also lives on campus, so I decide to stop in and see if he’s up for visitors.
“Winston?” I knock softly on his dorm room door.
“Who is it?” comes the tentative response.
“It’s me.”
There’s pause. “Go away.”
“Winston, I was told you were sick. Are you okay?”
“Yes. I mean, no, I’m really sick, so please just go away.”
I frown. “Are you sure? Do you need anything? Meds? Food?”
“I’m fine, please, I just need more sleep.”
Something doesn’t feel right. But as the door is locked and I can’t get in, there isn’t much I can do. “Well, okay then. Send me a text if you need anything.”
I hang around for a few seconds in case Winston changes his mind. I amble down the hall. I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t see Winston’s roommate walking my way until he calls my name.
I look up. “Oh, hey, Rick.”
“Did you just see Winston?” Rick says, transferring his groceries to his other hand so he can give me a one-armed hug. “Terrible isn’t it, what happened to him? I can’t believe anyone would do that.”
My mouth suddenly tastes funny. I can’t believe anyone would do that. “Yeah, it’s terrible. I think he was either asleep or in the bathroom when I knocked. I didn’t get a chance to see him.” I look at Rick expectantly.
He answers just how I want him to. “Come on. I’ll let you in.”
I follow Rick back to his dorm room and hold my breath as he unlocks and opens the door for me. Inside, the dorm room has been turned into a kind of cave with curtains drawn and only a small lamp giving off a sickly glow by Winston’s bedside. Winston is curled up on top of his sheets with his back to me.
“Winston,” Rick calls out. “Hey, buddy, I brought a friend home to see you.”
Winston shifts, slowly and warily. Even before I see the grimace on his face I can tell he’s in pain. “Who is−?”
He sees me and he freezes.
The blood rushing to my head makes the sound of Rick saying something behind me sound muffled. Winston has a black eye, swollen shut. His lip and cheekbones are scabbed over. His right forearm is in a cast and the fingers of both his hands are bandaged. I’m sure that there are a lot more injuries that I can’t see.
“Oh my God. What happened to you?”
His face twists. “Didn’t I tell you to go away?”
“Who did this to you?” I step forward to touch him, but he flinches away from me and I can see fear in his eyes. He’s scared of me.
“Leave me the fuck alone!” As he screams his voice cracks, and he withdraws back into himself on his bed.
I feel a hand on my shoulder. Rick’s face is stern when I look back. “I think you should go.”
I nod. And I leave.
I know.
I know who did this. And why.
I stand dressed in black, my arms twisted across my chest as the limo pulls up to the foot of my buildi
ng. Jacob isn’t inside. I glare at Garfield, my escort, when he gets out of the limo sent to pick me up to take me to Jacob’s apartment.
“Aw, miss. You look beautiful. But why are you mad?” His face drops as I continue to glare at him. Did he help do that to Winston?
Inside the limo we’re both silent for a time. I can see Garfield fidgeting out of the corner of my eye as I fume looking out of the tinted windows. I can sense his discomfort. He’s not sure how to handle my anger.
“Are you mad at me, miss?” he finally asks. “I don’t know what I’ve done.”
I snap my face towards him and study his features for a second. “Tell me the truth, Garfield. Did you hurt Winston?”
He frowns and I only see confusion on his face. “Winston? I’m not so good with names.”
“Winston is my friend from university. He was beaten up by someone recently.”
Garfield shakes his head. “I didn’t hurt Winston.”
I have come to know Garfield as a simple man with very little ability to manipulate or lie. I believe him when he says that he didn’t hurt Winston. I sigh and reach over to give him a hug. His large hands are remarkably soft for a man his size. They close around me, eclipsing my shoulders.
“I’m sorry, Garfield. You’re a good man. I should have known better than to believe that you would actually hurt someone just because Jacob ordered you to.”
I feel his hands tense against me. I pull back and I catch the snippet of some emotion on his face. We pull up at the front of Jacob’s building and I don’t have an opportunity to ask him what that look meant.
As I ride the elevator up to the top floor, Snake’s face comes to mind. It must have been Snake. Hurting Winston would have taken someone whose moral compass was as messed up as Snake’s. I can see Snake doing something like that. Maybe it was just Snake. Maybe Jacob had nothing to do with it.
Maybe I’m just making excuses for my boyfriend…
