by T L Swan
The cab makes its way through the traffic. and with every kilometre that we get farther away, I feel a little bit sicker about what I’ve just witnessed. Brock just kept hitting him, again and again. I mean, the idiot deserved the first punch, but why did he have to keep going with it?
I close my eyes. What if the man presses assault charges? But the guy did start it and was fighting back pretty bad. Maybe he wouldn’t have a case.
Brock has no control over his anger. None. I saw it with my own eyes, and even though he had touched on it with me, it was a shock to my system to actually witness it.
I can’t be with someone who can hurt someone like that with no regard for human mortality. I stare out the window through tear-filled eyes. I would have thought that after his father’s death he wouldn’t do this shit anymore. He’s twenty-eight, not a young boy dealing with extra testosterone. When is he going to grow up? Things were going so well for us. I thought I was maybe starting to fall in…
Oh, God.
He’s just too different to me.
I pay the driver and begin walking to the front door. My phone rings, the name Brock lighting up the screen.
“Hello,” I answer.
“Where are you?” he barks.
“I left. I’m at my mother’s.”
“What the fuck? Why, Tully?” He growls.
I screw up my face in disgust. “If you don’t know that, you’re a fucking idiot,” I snap and hang up, throwing my phone back into my bag as my blood boils.
The phone rings again immediately. I ignore it and walk into my building, hitting the lift button when I hear a commotion coming from down the hall.
Peachy Sue’s apartment door is open, and I can hear a man screaming.
Shit, it’s probably her pimp. Fuck, I don’t want him to see me. What do I do?
I hit the elevator button quickly, but it doesn’t come. Come on, come on. I look up at the numbers and see its still up on the tenth floor. Shit.
I hear something hit the wall down the hall, whatever it was being smashed to pieces.
“Get the fuck out!” she screams.
Oh my God, I don’t want them to see me. I look to the front doors, and then back down the hall. The fire exit stairs are next to her door, so he would see me if I ran for those. I scurry down the hall, open the janitor’s storage room, and I run in, pulling the door closed behind me. I stand in the darkness with my heart beating hard in my chest as I listen for more noise.
My phone rings again. Oh fuck. Brock, not now. I fumble to turn it to silent, and I concentrate, trying to listen again. Something else smashes and I hear a door open across the hall. Has someone else heard something?
I close my eyes as my heart hammers. I should call the police. What if he’s bashing her up? But if he hears me, he’ll probably hurt me, too. Oh God, why didn’t the bloody elevator come? I think I need to seriously consider moving apartments.
Bang, bang, bang goes my heart. This is why you don’t prostitute. Not only do you have to suck random dicks, you have to be owned by a fucking pimp who beats you up if you don’t go to work.
My eyes widen as a different scenario comes to my mind. What if Brock turns up here in his raging state and he runs into them hurting Sue. He will go fucking crazy, and the pimp probably has a gun on him.
Oh my God.
Shit, shit, shit, shit.
What do I do? I put my ear up to the door and listen. It’s all gone quiet. Fuck, do I just go out there how?
My phone vibrates in my bag again. For fuck’s sake, Brock. Go home, you idiot.
Please don’t be out the front of the building? No, he wouldn’t be here yet. He only just called me a moment ago from the bar.
I wait for ten minutes before I open the door and peer out. The corridor is empty and Peachy Sue’s door is now closed.
I swallow the fear in my throat. Okay… just act casual. Act casual. I’m just walking up the hall. I’ve seen nothing.
I walk up the hall, and I honestly feel like I’m about to have a heart attack. I hit the elevator button and, thankfully, the doors open straight away. I jump in quickly and hit the button. I hold my breath until I get to my floor, and then I run out and unlock my front door and dive inside my apartment.
I turn my phone off and storm to the bathroom for a shower.
What a disaster of a night.
Brock
I push the security button on Tully’s front door. It’s 3:00 p.m. and she is not taking my calls.
I fucked up last night. I fucked up bad.
She left and went to her mother’s when I got into that fight. She didn’t want to see me. I don’t know what came over me to lose my temper in front of her that way, and I hate that she saw me that angry.
I push the button again and I hear her pick up, but she doesn’t answer me.
“Tully, it’s me. Let me up.” I sigh.
“No. I’m good.” She snaps angrily.
“Can we at least talk about it?” I ask.
“I have nothing to say.”
“I do, so fucking let me up.”
The buzzer eventually grants me entry, and I push the door open angrily to make my way to the elevator. I inhale deeply as I try to calm myself down. Don’t lose your shit again, that’s what got you in this fucking position in the first place, I remind myself. I run my hands through my hair as I try my hardest to cool down. This is all new to me. I’ve never been in the dog house with a woman before. I don’t fucking like it.
Tully opens her door, fury written all over her face. I try to kiss her hello but she turns head away from me coolly.
I put my arm around her, but she pushes me off her aggressively. “Don’t touch me.”
“Come on, Pock.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Don’t Pock me!”
Silence is all I can come up with in response.
“What the fuck was last night about, Brock?” she snaps.
“Pock,” I whisper as is try to wrap my arms around her again.
“Don’t Pock me!” she yells. “I’m so fucking angry at you, it’s not even funny.”
“Why?”
She puts her hands on her hips and narrows her eyes. “You can’t be that stupid.” Her hair is wild and her big lips are full. I can see her silhouette through her nightdress and I feel my cock harden. This woman could seriously turn me on at any given time, even when she’s raging mad. The thought makes me smirk.
“You think this is funny?”
“No,” I reply, but I kind of do for some reason. A stupid smile crosses my face again.
She picks up the cushion from the sofa and hurls it at my head. “You big fucking twat waffle.” She yells in an outrage.
The cushion connects with my head, and I burst out laughing at the name twat waffle. That’s a new one. Tully storms into the kitchen, furious.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. Any minute now, she’s going to come back and lose her shit again. I already know it’s coming.
Right on cue, she starts storming over to where I am again. “And another thing...”
“You didn’t tell me the first thing yet,” I tell her dryly.
She points her finger in my face. “Don’t bait me, Brock. I hardly slept a wink and I am raging like a bull.”
I exhale and look to the ceiling. “Obviously.”
“That’s it. She screams. “Get out!”
“What?”
“You think this is funny?” She yells.
“What’s funny? Spit it out, woman.”
“You!” she screams, and her eyes fill with tears.
My heart drops. Oh God, she’s really upset.
“You didn’t stop hitting him.”
My face falls.
“I’m so traumatised from seeing you like that.”
“Pock,” I whisper softly. I hate that she witnessed me at my worst.
Why the fuck did I do that?
“Don’t Pock me,” she says through gritted teeth. “You have no
idea how it feels.”
I take her in my arms. “I’m sorry, okay?” I try to comfort her. “What are you talking about? How don’t I know what what feels like?” I hold her close.
“I can’t be with someone who thinks that behaviour is okay, Brock. I-I won’t do it.”
“Tully, I have to do what’s right sometimes. I can’t just let things go. I won’t have you disrespected, and that guy was asking for it.”
“So, you beat him to a pulp?” she cries. “He could have died. What if he hit his head on the floor and died?”
I puff air into my cheeks as I try to calm her down. I pull her close to me and kiss her temple.
“H-here I am over here falling in love with you, and… and all you care about is being in control and winning,” she stammers.
I still instantly. What the fuck did she just say?
My eyes find hers, and she screws her face up, making more tears fall, her disappointed and embarrassment clear from having just let that slip.
“You’re falling in love with me?” I ask in a whisper with raised brows.
She stares at me but doesn’t answer.
I begin to hear my heartbeat ringing in my ears as the panic sets in. I have this overwhelming urge to run.
“I can’t be in love with someone who has that temper, Brock,” she whispers.
My eyes search hers.
“You need to man up and be the man I need, or you need to step away.”
“Step away? What does that mean?”
“I want a man to love, not a little boy who tantrums, lashes out, and hits people when he doesn’t get his own way.”
My heart sinks.
“You said you wanted to do this relationship thing, Brock.”
I step back from her, a sense of fear sweeping over me like never before.
“Do you still want me?” she whispers.
“You know I do.”
“So, at what age are you going to grow up?”
I frown.
“Are you going to stop this alpha-hole bullshit, man up and love me, or do you want to keep on fighting the world alone?”
“Alpha- hole isn’t a word,” I say, trying to change the subject.
“Yes, it is. It’s code for Brock Marx.”
I smirk.
“Brock.” She puts her arms around me and looks up at tenderly. “I don’t want the bad-tempered boy who fights the whole world for the rest of his life.”
I swallow the lump in my throat as I stare down at her.
“I want the gentle man who I know can love me.” She kisses me softly and her arms slide around my hips as she tries to convince me to change.
“I don’t do gentle, Tully.”
“Yes, you do, Brock.” Her lips meet mine, and her tongue slides through my mouth. “I know you will because you care about me, too.”
“Can we just stop talking about all of this love stuff, please?”
“No.” She quickly pulls from my grip. “You want to be in a relationship with me, don’t you?”
I hold my hands up in defeat, sensing that a complete meltdown is on the horizon.
“Then we are talking about it. Don’t ask me to hold myself back from you because my feelings scare you,” she snaps. “Don’t you dare ever ask me to do that!”
Fuck. I drag my hand down my face. This is all a bit fucking dramatic, isn’t it?
I stare at her and she slowly takes my hands in hers. “I care about you, Brock.” She pauses for a moment. “In fact, I’m falling in love with you, and I’m not telling you that so you have to say it back or anything lame like that. I’m telling you this because you need to know that this is something special for me. This isn’t just fucking around like I know you’re used to. And I thought it was special for you, too.”
I look at her blankly, but her hopeful face eventually makes me smirk.
“But you’re just being a big jerk,” she adds.
“Ease up, hey? I’m beginning to think you’re the one with anger issues here, not me.”
“Brock,” she whispers, leaning up to kiss me. “I want us to work.”
I stare down at her.
“Let go of the anger and jump… with me.” She smiles hopefully.
My hands tighten on her behind. “I don’t jump with twat waffles,” I whisper against her lips.
She giggles and puts her hands in my hair. “You’re doing it, even if I have to push you off the cliff.”
I smile against her kiss. “I kind of thought that was what was happening here.
Tully
It’s Sunday night, and Brock is taking me to meet his family. Apparently, his sister, Natasha, and her family are going home to L.A. tomorrow, and he wants me to meet them before they leave.
After our fight yesterday, and after I opened up to him and put my heart on a platter, I feel closer to him than ever. We spent the afternoon in bed making love. He was gentle and tender, and although he never once mentioned how he felt about me, he showed me in other ways. Last night we went walking and got Thai takeaway in our tracksuits. I don’t feel like I have to dress up or wear makeup with him. I’m totally at ease. He makes me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world when I’m at my absolute worst. We stayed up late and watched movies at his house, and then this morning we even went for a run together.
There wasn’t a trace of the violent man I saw at the club on Friday night, and with every hour that passes by, I feel the horror fading a little more.
Brock is a beautiful man, and if I want a future with him I know I have to be patient while he softens to my ways a little.
It’s 6:00 p.m. now. He dropped me home a couple of hours ago so I could pack for our trip tomorrow.
Hawaii.
I’m excited to be getting him all to myself for a week—only the two of us, just how I like it.
I need to say goodbye to Meredith and give her a key to water my plants. I haven’t seen her as much as I normally do this last week and I’m feeling a little guilty about it.
I knock on her door.
I wait but there’s no answer.
I knock again. Still no answer. Hmm. She mustn’t be home. I turn to walk back up the hallway when I hear her keychain unlock and her door open.
“Tully,” she whispers as she peers through the crack in the door.
“Hi.” I smile.
“Shh.” She puts her finger to her mouth. “Shh.”
I frown as she pulls me by the hand into her apartment and closes the door behind us, flicking all of the locks.
“What are you doing?” I frown.
She peers through the peephole. “He’s coming back. You need to be quiet.”
“Huh?” I whisper. “Who’s coming back.”
“Black jacket, black jacket.”
I stare at her. “What are you talking about?”
“I didn’t see anything.” She begins to pace. “I didn’t see anything.” She shakes her head, puts her hands over her ears, and begins slapping herself on the head. “Know nothing, know nothing,” she repeats over and over.
“I frown as I watch her. “Meredith, are you feeling all right?” Jeez, I think she’s having some kind of psychotic episode. I don’t know what to do. “Have you taken your medication today?” I ask.
She starts hitting herself on the head again. “Know nothing, know nothing.” She is pacing back and forth and can’t stand still.
“Meredith, how about I take you over to your mother’s house?” I’ve gotten to know her mother and she’s not as bad as I first thought. She handles Meredith a lot better than Callie and I do, anyway, especially in circumstances like this.
Her eyes widen. “Yes.” She runs into her bedroom and begins ripping her drawers open quickly. “Black jacket, black jacket,” she repeats over and over.
“Yes, bring your black jacket.” I say, jeez…. what’s going on with her?
I don’t think I should tell her I’m going away while she’s like this. I don’t want her to have a m
eltdown.
She runs to the bathroom and picks up her whole toiletries’ basket. She runs out and tips it upside down into her suitcase. Things go flying everywhere, and then she runs back into her bedroom.
“What did you eat today, babe?” I ask carefully. “Did you have any blue food colouring?”
She runs out and looks at me, her eyes wild and wide as if she’s having a sudden epiphany. “Yes. Blue Lemonade.”
I wince. “Blue Lemonade? That doesn’t sound good.” I walk to the fridge. “How much did you drink?” I ask.
“Four litres.”
“Four litres,” I repeat as I pull the two two-litre empty bottles out from the inside shelves of the fridge door. “What the heck?” I shake my head. “Don’t drink this crap, Meredith. It will make you feel bad.”
She nods. “Yes. I feel bad, very bad. I need to go to the hospital now.”
“What?” Oh hell. I need to get her to her mother’s as fast as I can. “It’s okay, sweetie, grab your things and we will go over to your mother’s.”
“Yes.” She runs from the room. “Mother’s, then the hospital.”
“Maybe you should stay with your mum for a little while,” I call.
She runs back out and stares at me through widened eyes. “Yes. Good idea.” She nods. “Know nothing, know nothing.” She runs back into the bedroom, and I follow her, noticing how all of her furniture has been pushed to the door. “Why did you move the furniture, honey?” I ask.
She begins to shake her head as if really frantic about something.
“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Shit, should I call an ambulance or something? “Give me your suitcase and we’ll leave now,” I say calmly.
“He’s coming back,” she whispers, clearly petrified.
“Who’s coming back?”
“Black jacket.”
What the fuck is she talking about? I lead her out into the corridor by the hand, down into the elevator, and she looks so scared that it breaks my heart.
“Baby, it’s okay.” I put my arm around her shoulders to try and comfort her. We get into my car and she looks around frantically. It’s as if she scared of something she can’t see.
