by Gia Riley
He still wants me.
Quickly I rush to change from my pajamas back into my shorts and shirt when the window opens far enough for him to slide through.
He didn’t forget me.
Blaine climbs inside, soaked from the pouring rain. Matted to the side of his face, he shakes his shaggy hair out of his eyes. He stares at me with a look of hungry determination on his face. Glancing at the T-shirt balled up in my hands, I fumble with it, trying to put it on without him seeing my naked chest.
“Leave it off,” he tells me.
I’ve never been naked in front of him before. “Why?”
Instead of answering, he starts removing his own clothing. My heart rate spikes as uneasiness chokes me. I’m not ready for this, but I love him. I want to make him happy.
“Are you going to stare at me, or get me a damn towel?”
Blaine’s never raised his voice to me before, so at first I think he’s being funny. But when his face stays as hard as stone, I realize something is wrong. “I’m sorry.” I hand him the only towel in my room. The one I used earlier tonight.
His clothing ends up in a wet heap next to the bed while I stand in the middle of my bedroom, wondering what’s gotten into him. “Are you okay?”
“Does it matter,” he bites back. This isn’t the guy I’m in love with. My Blaine doesn’t get angry.
I move to the side of the bed. “Of course it matters to me. What happened?”
“Just sick of the shit at home. That’s all.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He drapes the towel over my desk chair before standing in only his boxers. I get a look at him like this for the first time. It both excites me and terrifies me.
Without warning, Blaine picks up my hairbrush and launches it at the wall. It bounces off the window pane, leaving behind a crack in the glass. “What are you doing!” I ask in shock. He’s going to get me in so much trouble.
As I get up to check out the damage, he pushes me up against the wall. My shirt falls to the floor. With nothing to cover myself with, I stand shocked and confused. Who is this person, and what has he done to Blaine?
Roughly, he grabs my arms, pinning them to the wall. “Who is in the picture with you?”
“What?” I ask confused.
“Don’t play stupid, Sophie.”
“I’m not Blaine. The only pictures I have are from gymnastics.”
“Who is he? He’s got his hands all over you,” he seethes.
The guy in the picture has his arm around my shoulder. We’re taking a selfie. “Aaron. His name is Aaron.”
“Are you fucking him? Is that why you don’t want me?”
“No!”
“Don’t lie to me, Sophie.”
“I swear, Blaine. I’m not. He’s just a friend from the gym.”
“I want you to stay away from him.”
“I can’t. He’s on the team.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t be on the damn team. I swear to God, Sophie, if I find out he touched you, you’ll both pay.”
I should be horrified by the demands he’s giving, yet what sticks out to me the most is that he wants me. The idea of me spending time with someone else hurts him because he loves me. “I don’t want anyone else. I promise.” He tightens his grip as I cringe in pain.
“So me and you, nobody else? He questions.
“Yes. I only want you.”
Finally satisfied with my answer, he releases me, stepping back far enough that I can rest my arms at my side. I take turns massaging them as faint bruises are already forming on my skin. Leaning in, he kisses me, softly at first. Slowly, he becomes more frenzied, taking control again with his mouth. I pull away from him when I’m desperate for air. “Blaine, wait.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s been a shitty day, and then the picture threw me. Did I hurt you?” And just like that, the guy I fell for is back. He kisses where his hands were squeezing a moment before. Instantly, the uneasiness is replaced by admiration.
“A little,” I confess. “But I’m okay. I’m sorry I upset you.” I can’t lose him. I won’t survive without him.
That incident was the first of many, and was the beginning of the end for Blaine and me. When he left me the next morning, I was different. Much like my cracked window, I was on my way to being destroyed and completely broken.
And now he has the potential to do it all over again. Just like before, one night changed it all. Kipton eyes me cautiously as I do my best to forget about the memories that keep haunting me.
“You’re scared aren’t you?”
“Well that’s a stupid question, Kipton. Of course I’m scared. Blaine just beat the shit out of me.” Again.
“Then let’s go somewhere else. We can get the hell out of this town. I’ll take you back to my parents until we get a place of our own.”
“It doesn’t matter where I go, Kipton. He will find me if he wants to. Blaine knows who you are. He told me at Shooter’s.”
Kipton pounds the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. “I feel fucking helpless. I can’t even protect my own girlfriend. How am I supposed to leave without you, Sophie? If he got to you again, I don’t know what I would do.”
I feared it would come to this, and now that it has, I feel terrible for dragging him into this mess. “You should have listened to me when I told you I wasn’t any good for you. I tried so hard to tell you this would happen.”
“We’re good together, beautiful. He may have jacked up a lot of things, but he’s not destroying us, okay?”
“Unless the police track him down, tomorrow won’t be any better. I’ll always be looking over my shoulder.”
Kipton pulls into an empty parking space before cutting the engine. He looks me straight in the eye. “Do you want to do that without me?”
The thought alone terrifies me. I couldn’t ever go through with it. “No.”
“Then this discussion is over. Let me help you out.”
I stay in my seat, still buckled in. My eyes drift to the apartment complex, scanning the ground for anything that looks suspicious. There’s nothing specific I’m looking for, yet I exam every window, every bush, and every crack in the brick façade.
Before I have a chance to think up the worst possible scenario, my door opens, startling me. Kipton reaches over my body, unbuckling my seatbelt. I’m able to plant my feet on the ground, using the car door and his arm for support. Pushing myself upward, I groan from the force on my ribs. I knew this was going to suck.
Kipton gets one glimpse at my pain before taking matters into his own hands. He swoops me into his arms effortlessly, kicking the car door shut with his foot. “Not this again. I can walk.”
“And I’m going to carry you.”
I laugh at how certain he is as he answers. “Okay then.”
“God, I’ve missed that sound.”
“What sound?”
“Your laugh. It’s one of my favorite things about you.”
Before we go inside, he angles our bodies toward the street. “Look over there.” A police cruiser sits parked along the street. “They’re watching for Blaine twenty four hours a day.”
I’m thankful for this extra protection. “Okay.”
Kipton opens my front door, setting me gently on my feet. Cara’s in the kitchen tossing balloons around, oblivious to either of us. I clear my throat so I don’t startle her as she concentrates on her decorating. “Cara.”
“Shit! Surprise!” she yells, as she tosses the last balloon into the air.
“A party? You know it’s not my birthday right?”
“Of course I do. This is your welcome home party. Look! I even have these little straws.”
Kipton grabs one out of her hand, inspecting it. “Why does she need a straw with a penis on it?”
“She technically doesn’t, but this shit is fun. The party store has some seriously naughty stuff.”
I grab another off the counter and pop it int
o my drink. “Are you sure you didn’t go to an adult store by mistake?”
“Oh, I went there too, but no, this is all from the party store.”
“Cara, why are you going to the porn shop?” Kipton asks her as he pours himself a drink. He doesn’t look too thrilled by the idea.
“Kippy, sometimes I have needs only batteries can provide. Plus, Drew’s into it.”
Kipton tosses his straw on the kitchen table and walks over to the wall, banging his head off of it. Of course Cara just laughs at him before finishing her conversation, this time directed toward me. “Would you believe the motor in my favorite vibrator died, you know the big purple one, right before the big O. Such a disappointment. Good thing Drew was right there to save the day.”
“I take it you two have enjoyed your alone time while I was gone.”
She sticks out her lip, pouting. “It wasn’t the same without you, Sophie. You make the perfect threesome.”
“What the fuck?” Kipton asks with his eyes wide.
This time, I bust out laughing. “That’s not the kind of threesome she was talking about, babe.”
“It better not be. Seriously, you’re home for three minutes and already I need ear plugs. And Cara, stop wasting your money on that shit.”
“Shit? Are you crazy? That shit is mind blowing.”
Kipton rolls his eyes before walking into the living room. “Sophie likes the real thing,” I hear him mutter.
“Missed you, hooker.” She plants a juicy kiss on my cheek. “And Brother, calm your ass down. You’ll give yourself grey hair.”
Kipton turns the TV on. I see him visibly relax the moment he settles into his spot on the couch. It has to be ten times more comfortable than the chair he’s been sitting in at the hospital. “I’m going to get a shower.”
“Good. You look like shit,” Cara says playfully. Before I leave the room, she pulls me into another hug. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“I’m sorry,” I say as tears threaten to fall.
“I love you, Sophie. I’ve never had a sister, and I don’t want to lose the only one I’ll ever have.”
“You won’t.”
As we break apart, Drew opens the front door, seemingly surprised to see me standing in the living room. “Bout’ time you got here,” he says with a wink before giving me a hug.
“Watch her ribs,” Kipton yells from the couch. I’m pretty sure he wants to put that in writing across my chest for as many times as I’ve heard him say it the past two days.
“I’ve missed you, squirt.”
“Squirt,” I say with a laugh. “I’ve missed your messy ass, too. My room was entirely too clean.”
“Then let’s get things back to normal around here. He tosses his keys on the couch. The crack between the cushions immediately sucks them up. Then he throws his bag in the middle of the floor where I usually trip over it. “How’s that?”
“Much better. Now it feels like home.”
“Good.” He wanders back into the kitchen, popping his head around the corner after a minute or two. “Who bought dick straws and dick cake?”
“You didn’t?” I ask Cara with a smile on my face. I already know she did. I can only imagine the reactions she got at the bakery when she ordered it.
“The straws changed my entire theme, so I had to run with it. Nothing says welcome home like a cock, Sophie.”
“You are certifiably insane. And I love you for it.”
ONCE I CLOSE THE BATHROOM door, I sit down on the edge of the tub, already exhausted from the emotional day I’ve had. It’s eerily quiet now that the incessant beeping of the monitor is gone. While it was annoying, it was a constant reminder of my survival.
As hard as I try not to think about Blaine’s vial words, and brutal punishment, they’re on a highlight reel in my mind, playing over and over. When it’s quiet like this, every movement changes from black and white to vivid color. And I can’t make it stop no matter how hard I try.
There’s only one way to fix this, Sophie.
One glance at the toilet next to me is all it takes to crave another purge. There’s so much I want to erase—so much I need to forget. And the urge intensifies with each passing second.
Would purging take away my fear? Maybe. But it wouldn’t last.
Would purging solve my problems? No. They’ll still be waiting for me when I’m finished.
Which is why it makes no sense when I angle my body closer to my target. I still want to do it so bad. Just this once. But I’ve come far enough in my recovery to know it wouldn’t be a single event. This purge would lead to the next—and then another.
I’m not ready to live with the guilt again. I couldn’t do that to Kipton. Not after everything I’ve put him through.
But what about what I need?
Desperate to clear my mind, I strip my clothes off my body. As I’m placing them in the hamper, I make the mistake of glancing at my reflection in the full length mirror on the back of the door. It’s no wonder Kipton looked at me in horror as the doctor examined me. I look like hell.
I run my hands over my arms, matching my fingertips to the prints left behind by Blaine. He dug into my flesh so hard, there’s no mistaking the outline left behind. I’ve felt a lot of varying emotions the past two days, but right now, I only feel dirty. I need the evidence of where Blaine’s been erased from my skin.
Rushing into the shower, I grab my body wash from the ledge. Before the water is even on, I’m already squirting soap onto every inch of my skin. When the water reaches a temperature so hot I can barely stand it, I move under the spray from the shower head, and continue to scrub like my life depends on it.
But no matter how hard I scrub, the bruises continue to taunt me. Like Blaine’s staring back at me, I try again and again to no avail. “Go away,” I beg.
No matter how many times I repeat it, nothing changes. “Leave me alone!” I scream.
No closer to fixing anything, I pull back the shower curtain as fast as I can. My eyes dart to the toilet next to me. With soap bubbles still on my skin, I slip and slide on the cool tile floor until I end up on my knees in front of it.
Suddenly the bathroom door whips open as a freezing cold shot of air blazes into the sauna I’ve created. “Jesus, Sophie. No,” Kipton pleads as he rushes forward to pick me up off the floor. I fight him because I didn’t even get started yet. “Baby, stop. You don’t want to do this. I’ve got you.”
He kicks the bathroom door shut so I’m no longer on display. As the realization of what’s happening hits me, a wave of shame replaces my anger. “I didn’t want to, Kipton, but I can’t get it out of my head. He’s all over me.”
“It’s okay. I know.”
“But you don’t.”
“Sophie, my imagination has been on overdrive ever since this happened. I wasn’t there, but it still fucking kills me.”
I grab onto his shirt to anchor me. “How do we make it stop?”
“Not this. This isn’t the answer. You talk to me, or you talk to your therapist. I don’t care who, but you have to talk.”
“I will.” I wasn’t ready to talk when the social worker came to see me. I had already rehashed what happened to my family, my friends, the doctors, and multiple detectives. I wanted to stop thinking about it—to put it behind me and move on. But it doesn’t work that way, and it’s ten times harder to fight when I keep it all locked up inside me. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. It’s over now.”
It will come back.
“Let’s get you back in the shower. You still have soap in your hair, beautiful.”
Kipton helps me stand up, and ease back into the shower. I was riding such an adrenaline high, I didn’t feel an ounce of pain until now. I can hardly believe I was so close to throwing it all away again.
“Tip your head back. I’ll help you,” he says lovingly, as he runs his fingers through my tangled mess of hair. “Tell me if this hurts.”
As gentle as can
be, he rinses away all the suds I had lathered all over my body and in my hair. “You never hurt me. You only make me feel good.”
“Relax, baby.”
I release the tension in my shoulders and let them fall. There’s nothing to protect myself against anymore.
“That’s better.”
The massage continues over my entire body. I’m well aware he’s checking out every mark on me, but this time I don’t care. Not when he’s taking away my fear.
“I missed you, Sophie.” The pads of his thumbs wipe away the leftover mascara from under my eyes. His gentleness continues as he bends to place a kiss on my lips. Our tongues collide over and over, and we get lost in each other until he pulls away. “I don’t want to hurt your jaw.”
“You’re not,” I promise. “Make me forget, Kipton.” I’m scared all I’ll ever remember are Blaine’s rough palms cupping me, squeezing me painfully. I need to know Blaine hasn’t invaded my sanctuary—the perfect connection I share with Kipton. “Please, help me forget.”
Kipton holds me in his arms. His clothes are soaked from the shower, but instead of complaining, he only holds me tighter. “I should have been there, baby. I’m so sorry I wasn’t.”
My body trembles as hot tears leak from my eyes. I slide my hands under the hem of his T-shirt, and inch them up as far as I can reach. “It’s not your fault.” With the cold fabric out of the way, I rest my cheek against Kipton’s warm chest, clinging to the only thing I know for certain right now. Us.
It would be easier to give up school, to pack my things and leave this unforgiving town. In fact, that would be heaven right now. But my future depends on graduating, and as long as I have air in my lungs, I’ll keep fighting the demons that want to trap me. This isn’t my first weak moment, and it won’t be my last. I deserve so much more than what Blaine has done to me.
“Please don’t give up, beautiful. Don’t let him win.”
“I won’t.” Floating back and forth between heaven and hell, I bury my pain as I seek a different kind of release. “I need you.”
At war between doing what he thinks is right, and giving me what I want, I see the moment he gives up on being the hero. “Go get in bed.”
