by J. M. Stone
He pulled her in and kissed her, opened mouth with lots of tongue, groaning, and heavy breathing on both their parts. When he pulled away from her, her red lipstick was smeared across his face, looking eerily like blood, like a sinister omen.
He stared at me boldly, daring me to try to move, to say something as he pulled a syringe, a lighter, and a tourniquet, the rubber kind nurses use to take your blood, out of his pocket, along with a small foil packet, and a small piece of cotton. He grinned as he strode to the drawer and pulled out a spoon.
“Cause I’ve got the good stuff you want, doll, and then we’re gonna have a little fun with the prude over there,” he answered.
Amber giggled and then moaned, pressing herself against Greg’s back as he sat at our kitchen table and proceeded to unwrap the foil packet, placing a tan-ish looking lump in the bowl of the spoon, crushing it up into powder with the flat end of the plunger on the syringe. He handed the syringe over to Amber who prowled across the kitchen like she owned it to the sink, where she drew a small amount of water into the syringe.
She moved back to him, sitting it on the table beside him without a word, but you could see the wanton desperation, the anticipation clearly written on her face. Greg picked up the syringe and squirted the water into the spoon over the powder before he flicked the lighter to life and held it under the spoon suspended carefully in his fingers.
I watched the process silently, not looking away no matter how much I was screaming on the inside, sickened by what was happening in front of me. This was new, the drug use. I didn’t know what it was, but I suspected it was heroin. I didn’t want to watch, I wanted to run screaming from the room, but that would just make things worse…not to mention the fact that I was tied to a chair currently. Maybe he would just get high and pass out, leave me alone…but I’d still be tied.
Once the process was done and the drug pulled into the needle, I watched Greg pick it up and, after a brief, pensive pause, he swung the needle towards my arm where it was lashed to my own thigh. I could feel the panic rising, my heart beating like a runaway horse as he shook the syringe mockingly in my face.
“Want some of this, little whore? I should do it…I should jab this needle in your fucking arm and give you so much of this shit that you OD right here in front of me so I can fuck the shit out of Tina while I watch you die.”
I flinched when I heard a slap, bewildered when I realized it wasn’t me getting slapped this time. The oh-so-lovely Amber had taken offense to Greg calling her by the wrong name again that she smacked him upside the back of his head, screeching, “My name is fucking Amber, you asshole! Who the fuck is Tina?”
Greg shrugged her off, raising his hand threateningly at her, which only made her laugh.
He turned to me again, the needle still waving hypnotically in his hand, coming closer and closer to my skin. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes again…I didn’t want that shit in my body…God, why was I such a weak ass loser? Why hadn’t I left him the first time he hit me?
“I think she might want to try a little, what do you think, doll face?” He grinned evilly and seized my arm between rough, pinching fingers. He jabbed the needle sharply into my skin cruelly. I bit back my scream, but a whimper still escaped.
“Greg! Don’t waste that good shit on her! I ain’t gonna be no party to no murder, either, so quit fuckin’ around and give it to me!” Amber yelled.
He jerked the needle out of my arm and I thanked God and anyone else who was listening that he hadn’t depressed the plunger on the syringe to release the drug. Instead, he tied off Amber’s arm with the tourniquet, inserted the needle into her arm and shot her up. Her head lolled for just a second before she looked up with a smile.
“God, that’s such a fuckin’ rush…just enough to take the edge off, eh, lover? Just enough to make you wanna fuck me right here on this table?” she said, her eyes glazing over.
Greg took the needle out of her arm, tied off his own, and shot himself up with the rest of the syringe’s contents. He sat there for a few seconds, looking slightly dazed before his nostrils flared and he stared at Amber like she was the last piece of pie left on earth and he had a craving.
I tried to block it out, to float off inside myself like I would normally do, but I couldn’t block out the sounds…couldn’t block out the sight of Greg stripping down, tearing off Amber’s clothes, and then positioning her on the table, right in front of where I was sitting. He spread her legs and she laughed as he slid her towards me, her hairy, unkempt snatch now just inches from my face. I fought a gag as the stench of an unwashed, sweaty body invaded my nostrils before he pulled her back and mounted her, right there in front of me, one hand on her ass to hold her still, and the other tangled in my hair, forcing me to keep watching while tears poured, unchecked, down my bruised cheeks.
“NO!” I screamed as I woke, my body shivering, as I tried to shake off the effects of the memory afforded to me by my dreams.
I blinked into the dimly lit room, taking a second to realize that I was in a hotel room, and everything clicked into place. Brandon pushing me away even as he pulled me to him…my own hang ups that fuck everything up…my life in general.
With a sigh, I grabbed my cell phone and powered it back on, groaning when it immediately began chiming and pinging with incessant notifications of voice mails and text messages.
I opened my texts, knowing that I would find a lot of pissed off people, including my brother. What I wasn’t prepared for was a text from my mom. It was simple, to the point…and devastating.
Greg is out.
Chapter 9
Three little words made me sick. Literally.
I clung to the hotel room toilet after having lurched in there to empty the contents of my stomach as the words my mom texted ate at my soul. I don’t know how it’s even possible, given what transpired to put him in prison, but it was true. It had to be because my mom is not a liar and she wouldn’t be that cruel.
I sat there long after my dry heaves had stopped and my legs had gone numb. My phone, dropped somewhere on the carpet in my haste to make it to the bathroom, chimed every few minutes, alerting me that I had a new message.
Finally, I dragged myself up off the floor and sank onto the mattress after grabbing my cell phone. I scrolled through the missed calls to my brother’s number and hit call, running a shaking hand through my hair as I waited for him to answer.
“Fucking hell, Chloe! What is going on? Are you okay? Where the hell are you?” Jackson roared, completely foregoing the standard hello-how-are-yous.
“I’m fine, Jacks. I just needed some time, okay?” I said quietly.
“No! No, it’s not okay, Chloe! You can’t just fucking disappear like that, especially after…have you talked to mom?” he asked, his tone turning subdued.
If I hadn’t already gotten a text from my mom, I’d have known something was wrong right then. “She texted me. I know that…I know.” I couldn’t bring myself to utter it out loud, afraid that it would make all of this real instead of the dream I was hoping it was.
“Where are you? We’ve had people looking for you ever since mom called me, even though we’ve been trying to get ahold of you long before that, at least just to make sure you were okay.”
I rubbed my eyes and yawned tiredly as I answered, “I just needed some time.”
Jackson sighed. “You already said that. Luke and T.J. are out driving around and so am I. Just tell me where you are so I can come check on you.”
“I don’t need anyone looking for me, right now. I just need time. I’m safe. I’m in a hotel in Florence, Kentucky,” I said, begrudgingly.
“Florence? What the fuck are you doing there?” he asked.
“I just drove and this is where I ended up. Look, I’m just gonna ride out the night here, okay? It’s already late, isn’t it? I don’t even know what time it is…but I’ll be back in town tomorrow. Call off your dogs. I’m fine.”
Jackson gave a short, barkin
g laugh, filled with mocking. “It’s only seven in the evening and, yeah, fine is one thing you’re not. This is gonna stop, Chloe. I want the whole story from you so I know what the hell is going on. Stop shutting us all out!”
“Jackson-”
He cut me off. “Just tell me what hotel you’re in at least,” he said impatiently.
I told him and hung up, curling up into a ball on the bed and sobbing my eyes out. I cried, finally, for everything that had happened with Greg, which is something I hadn’t really let myself do. I cried about the whole Brandon situation, and I cried because I could only think about how much I let everyone down…I felt like such a piece of shit for running off, making everyone worry.
I cried until I could cry no more, my sobs were just little hiccups, and my face was completely red and swollen, my eyes gritty and burning. I switched off the light and hunkered back down under the covers, ready to slip into a, hopefully, dreamless sleep, when there was a knock at the door.
I rolled my eyes and stomped to the door, knowing that my brother couldn’t leave well enough alone and had to have driven down here. I peeked out the peephole and about swallowed my tongue when I saw Brandon standing on the other side. His face was drawn, almost haggard, but he looked pissed off.
I gulped and stepped back from the door, hoping if I ignored him he’d just go away. I should have known better.
“Chloe…” he said softly, dangerously. “I know you’re in there. Quit peeking through the peephole and open the door.”
With a shaking hand, I released the locks on the door and swung it open, stepping back as Brandon pushed past me into the room. I closed it behind him and locked it once more, squeaking in surprise when he swept me into his arms the minute I turned around.
He hugged me to his chest tightly, murmuring ‘I’m sorry’ into my hair. I tensed briefly and then allowed myself to melt into his arms, taking his offered strength without question, even though I wasn’t letting him get away with the hot and cold game anymore. He came after me…surely that meant something, right?
“Brandon…what are you doing here?” I asked him softly after a few minutes, tilting my head up to look into his stormy eyes.
He gazed down at me as he cupped my cheek with his hand, our eyes locked as he lowered his head and brushed his lips gently back and forth across mine.
My breath left me on a sigh, my lips parting to grant him the access he so sweetly sought. He kissed me carefully, tenderly…like he was afraid I would break. The sad thing was, it felt like I still might.
After our lips parted, he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against mine, still holding me close. His breath, warm and minty, bathed my lips as he spoke.
“I never should have said what I did earlier in the shop. You know it’s not like me to be so…so fucking indecisive! I know what I want and I go after it, but, with you, I just…God, Chloe you tie me in fucking knots! I don’t know which way is up and it’s something that I never felt before.”
He blew out a breath and moved away to sit on the edge of the bed, pulling me down beside him. He turned, angling his body so that we were face to face as he took my face in his hands, staring at me earnestly as he continued speaking.
“I’ve felt lust before. I’ve been in love before, too, with Allie. She made me feel invincible and happy but there was always that little part of me that was levelheaded. She drove me nuts wanting her and-Jesus, I’m not saying this very well. What I’m trying to say, Chloe, is that, that one kiss with you, it shook me. It opened my eyes and I found myself looking at you in a totally different light and I felt guilty about it. I seriously felt like a fuckin’ girl, changing my mind over and over because I was so afraid to let you in because I don’t want to ruin what’s always worked for us, for our friendship.”
He shook his head. “And then you pushed me away, hid from me after we…I just…fuck, Chloe! The things I feel for you scare me!”
“And you think they don’t scare me, Brandon?” I interjected. “I’ve been petrified since I kissed you, someone who’s always been a good friend to me, someone who was involved, seriously involved, with a woman that I love like my own sister! But then Allie and I talked and I started hoping…and then…and…I fucking fell in love with you!”
The last words came out on a shout, echoing in the stunned silence left behind. It stretched on, that silence, for what seemed like eternity before Brandon said, quietly, “That settles it, then. You’re mine, Chloe, because, God help us both, I’ve fallen in fucking love with you, too.”
I gasped, scared to believe I just heard him correctly…to think that maybe, just maybe, this could really be happening.
I searched his face, finding nothing but honesty written across it and my heart swelled with hope. I leaned in and captured his lips with mine, sweeping my tongue across the seam of his mouth, seeking entrance. He parted his lips on a groan, his tongue meeting mine in a tangling frenzy, kissing me deeply.
Breathing hard, we broke apart and just held each other, taking everything in. After a while, Brandon pushed me back so he could see my face.
“It’s time to talk, Chloe. No more hiding, especially now that Jackson told us Greg is out. We all need to know what that means, what exactly happened with you two.”
I nodded slowly, my stomach knotting up instantly again at the thought of having to reveal the depravity I lived with for longer than I should have, for letting them see that I was stupid and weak for not getting out and stopping it until it was almost too late.
I peered up at him and asked quietly, “Can we do it tomorrow with everyone? I don’t want to have to go through it more than once.”
Brandon kissed my head once more and nodded his assent. He pulled me into his arms and moved us so we were laying in the bed, wrapped up in each other. We fell asleep that way and, blessedly, it was a deep, dreamless sleep.
When morning came, we got ready and checked out without speaking. I was on edge, knowing that I was about to lay bare all the sordid details I’d kept hidden for a long time. It wasn’t going to be easy…it was going to be hell.
Chapter 10
Three hours later found me surrounded by friends and family, each of them waiting patiently to find out just what was going on.
Emma must have called Leah because she was on one side of me on the couch at Luke and Emma’s house, which is where everyone just naturally congregated, and surprisingly, my mom was on the other side.
She’d managed to get a flight before Jackson had even told her that I was going to tell them everything, which is why she’d sent just that short text letting me know about Greg; she’d already been on her way to the airport. Our mom is good like that, willing to fly across the country in a hot second because one of her babies just might need her.
I just hated that she had done it to deal with my shit.
I cleared my throat and glanced over at Brandon, who was sitting on the arm of the love seat beside Allie. Jackson was sharing the loveseat with her, and she was leaning back against his chest. Luke and Emma were squeezed into the armchair that is usually Doug’s favorite seat, Emma on Luke’s lap, cradled in his arms, his hands splayed protectively, yet lovingly, across the girth of her pregnant belly.
Brandon gave me a small, encouraging nod so I started talking. I began with the beginning; how sweet and loving Greg was—but it was all an act.
He hit me for the first time six months into our relationship. He convinced me it was an accident, that I’d just happened to turn into his hand while he had it raised during an argument. It was believable at the time. Now I know I was just stupid and naïve.
It all poured out from there. I ignored the tears streaking down my face silently, just stoically kept talking, letting it all out. I wasn’t holding back any details and I could see it was taking its toll on everyone else, too.
My mom was sobbing quietly beside me, trying to stay strong for me. Leah looked like she could kill someone, all the while tears were tracking down her c
heeks, as well. Allie and Emma were both crying, trying to muffle their sobs on the shoulders of Jacks and Luke.
And all three of the guys? I’d swear I saw death in their eyes.
Brandon was almost vibrating in anger and shock; his face was dark with fury, jaw tight, fists clenched on his thighs. Jackson and Luke looked about the same, but they were controlling it just a bit better because their arms were full of crying women.
I got to the womanizing, all the times he fucked women right in front of me…the drug use…and the beatings.
I was wrung out—a complete wreck by the time I got to the final fight that sent me running for my life, knowing that if I didn’t get out this time, he’d kill me for sure. My voice a whisper, I sank into the memory, ice-cold numbness washing over me as I spoke…
For what I swore was the last time, I opened my eyes and I promised myself, right there staring in the mirror, that this was it. This was the time I was going to walk away, be the strong woman I always prided myself on being. Until I met him. Greg.
I was working as a bartender in a popular club, and late one night, he showed up. He was perfect, blonde haired, blue-eyed…the All-American boy that every girl wanted, dreamed about. He was sweet, charming, and respectful and I thought I’d hit the good-guy lottery. Little did I know that I’d only been duped…that I was dancing with the devil.
But I knew now…and I was done being his punching bag. I had to get out and I had to do it soon. I leaned back over the sink and carefully dabbed some powder along the fading edge of the black eye I still had from last week. Glancing at my watch, I swore under my breath and fled to the kitchen to get dinner laid out on the table like he expected.
Everything was fine until after dinner when I was cleaning the kitchen. I had managed to keep him calm and not set him off. But…
A wine glass. A single, simple, fucking wine glass. That’s what did it. I can’t help the fact that he bumped into me while I was putting it away in the cabinet and dropped it, causing it to shatter all over the counter and the floor.
