Silent No More

by N. E. Henderson

  Instead, I snap at him. “Nick, I said I’m fine, so drop it.” Fuck. I instantly regret snapping at him. I shouldn’t take this out on him. I haven’t had these feelings in a long time. I didn’t know how to deal with them then and I still don’t.

  “Fine, but I can tell something is bothering you and you are going to tell me later,” he says as he pulls me to the dining room. His family is already seated. Nikki has a sour look on her face. She is staring straight ahead at a wall while her dad is talking. I think he is reprimanding her, but I’m not sure. We come in on the tail end of the conversation.

  “Finally, what took you both so long?” Nick’s dad asks; he’s looking directly at me. No, fuck face, I didn’t say a damn thing to him.

  “Shannon and I were having a conversation.” Nick sounds annoyed as he takes a seat.

  Elaina is still looking at me the same way as before in the kitchen. Does she know what her husband is capable of? Do they all? Surely, they wouldn’t be sitting at a dinner table with him if they did.

  Taking my napkin off the table, I place it in my lap. I begin to gather food on my plate, starting with Beef Wellington and ending with a spoonful of roast potatoes. I have no appetite, but I’d rather stuff my mouth than talk or look at the man sitting at the head of the table. I can feel his eyes on me every few minutes; it makes my stomach turn and chest tighten.

  “Nicolette, can’t you wear clothing to my house that covers up those awful tattoos? You used to be so beautiful. I don’t understand why you enjoy embarrassing me.” Nick’s father’s comment brings my attention away from my food. God, did he just say that to his own daughter?

  “I’m going to wear what I want, Dad. If I wanted to cover up the art on my body, then I never would have gotten them,” she responds with a tight lip before shuffling a forkful of food into her mouth. Nick takes a deep breath, and then slowly blows the air out as if he’s trying to calm himself. He looks like he wants to say something, but doesn’t.

  The inked artwork displayed on Nikki’s arms isn’t as visible as the first day I met her. The tail end of one tattoo is poking out of the short sleeve of her shirt and she has a small tattoo on each wrist. On her right wrist, the name “Jason” is spelled out in black ink, ending with a line wrapping around her wrist to draw the shape of a heart on the inside. It’s colored-in with deep red ink. On her other wrist are small hearts travelling her wrist like a bracelet. They also wrap around to the inside of her left wrist, which has a date scripted. I have no idea what the date represents. Other than those, nothing else is visible. She looks stunning. Even when she has all her ink on display, she is beautiful, probably even more so with all the color.

  The dinner is nothing like I expected before I arrived. No one has said a single nice thing since we sat at the table. Judge Lewis finds a way in every discussion to criticize either Nick or Nikki. I can tell Elaina doesn’t like it, but she never interrupts her husband, nor does she defend her children. Way to be a great mom!

  “Mom, thank you for dinner, but we have to be going,” Nick says as he pushes himself back from the table. Hallelujah! His sister follows suit immediately, looking relieved to be getting out of here. I guess I can’t blame them. Hell, I wanted to run out of here an hour ago myself.

  As I stand up from the table, I cut my eyes to Nick’s father. He’s sitting back in his chair at the table and drinking a glass of wine. He looks right at me, over the rim of his glass, every time he takes a sip. Nikki doesn’t speak to her father after she tells her mom she’ll call her next week. She quickly exits the room and I follow her as quickly as my feet will take me. Nick doesn’t linger and we all make our way back to his car. As I sink down into the passenger seat, I look over at Nick. He looks like he’s brooding.

  On the drive back, Nick heads to Knocked Out to drop his sister off. The way he is gripping the steering wheel I think it’s going to break any minute now. If that doesn’t happen, his speed is sure to get us in an accident. I think it’s safe to say he is royally pissed off. He looks like he wants to smash something. I really hope it’s not the car.

  “Nick, maybe you should drop Shannon off first and come with me to Knocked Out,” Nikki says from the back seat. She has been staring at the back of Nick’s head while biting her nails for about twenty minutes.

  “Drop it, Nikki. I don’t want to hear it,” he says through clenched teeth. “I’m taking you to Jase, and then Shannon and I are going home.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she snaps at him as Nick pulls into the parking lot of the gym. He doesn’t park in a parking spot, but instead, he pulls up to the front door throwing the gear shift into park as Jase is descending the stairs.

  I open my door and step out, pushing the seat forward so Nikki can get out. She doesn’t move and sits back, crossing her arms in front of her. Nick whips his head around to face his sister. “Get out of the fucking car, Nikki.”

  “No, not until I make you see I’m right, and you know I’m right, Nick. I know what you do when you’re this mad. Do you really want Shannon to see that side of you?” Does she mean it gets worse than this? Jase has come to stand next to me by the door.

  “Jason, you need to get your girlfriend out of my car, now.” Nick has turned back around in his seat, looking straightforward. He is ignoring his sister. She doesn’t strike me as the type to be ignored.

  “Man, why don’t you and I go work this out? Nikki can take Shannon home, or fuck, let Shannon take your car and we’ll take you home later, after you cool off,” Jase tries to reason. He crosses his arms across his chest, concern displayed on his face. He obviously cares a great deal for his friend.

  Nick and Nikki are staring at each other through the rearview mirror, neither wanting to give in to the other’s demands. Nick is the first to break their silence. “Get the fuck out of this God damn car. NOW!” he yells.

  “FINE!” she yells back as she throws her hands in the air. She leans forward and pulls herself up and out of his car. She takes Jase’s hand and looks dead at me. “If you need anything…anything at all, please call me, okay?”

  “Get in the car, Shannon,” Nick spits out, still looking forward ignoring his sister. I nod an okay to her and then descend in the passenger side seat, pulling the door shut.

  Nick floors the accelerator just as I hear the clicking sound of my seat belt, letting me know I’m secure. I’m not sure if secure is the right word for what I’m feeling right now. Nick is beyond mad, and probably shouldn’t be driving. I don’t offer to drive for him. Something tells me that would not be the right thing to ask at this moment. I’m not really sure what the right thing to say right now is. This is all pretty new to me. Last month, my life was pretty drama free.

  We ride in silence a little longer until Nick turns off, heading in the direction of his house. I only live about three miles from him. “Why aren’t we going to my house?” I ask.

  “Trust me; it’s best to go to mine.” He doesn’t clarify, and there is no calmness in his voice. He looks like he could snap at any moment. I guess his sister just doesn't want me to see this side of him. I can understand, but really, if I’m dating the guy, then I need to see every side of him.

  “But the dogs are at my house,” I remind him.

  “I know they are and I fed them this morning. They will fucking live through the night.” He is getting irritated at me. I haven’t done shit to him and he’s getting irritated at me.

  Just great.

  His dad pisses him off and he takes it out on me. I don’t think so. I cross my arms over my chest, but remain silent for the remainder of the ride.

  He pulls into his driveway and stops abruptly. Exiting the car, he slams the door and heads for his house. He doesn’t wait for me, but I follow a few paces back. He flings the door open and it hits the wall. Yeah, I’m sure that made a mark in the wall.

  Walking into the kitchen, I see he is pouring a glass of amber liquid. He tosses it back in one gulp and pours another. He repeats
until he refills his seventh glass. Wow. Really? This is how he’s going to handle things?

  I stand in the entryway watching him. He stands at the granite island with his palms cupping the edge, staring out the window to the backyard. I don’t think he is looking at anything in particular. He looks lost in thought. He continues until he has finished off number seven. When he sits it back on the counter, he turns his head and stares at me.

  That lost look turns to heat and lust. His eyes are a darker shade of blue than the normal flames I love so much. They are sinister, but not in a scary way. It’s like he has his eyes on a prize and will stop at nothing to possess it. I’m pretty sure that prize is currently me. I know exactly what those eyes are telling me and it’s almost a welcome. I know Nick can take my mind off the last few painful hours. I don’t want to think about the past and I certainly don’t want to think about his father. I want him to take my thoughts away, or at least redirect them.

  He pushes himself off the counter and walks up in front of me. He’s looking down at me, staring into my eyes. I’m of course looking up at him. Grabbing me by the waist, he backs me up against a wall. He’s so close I can smell the alcohol on his breath.

  Without moving his hand from my waist, he starts yanking my white silk button-up shirt out from my skirt. He moves both hands up to the top of my shirt and rips it open. He looks like a hungry wolf about to take his prey apart.

  After he pushes the shirt off my shoulders, I move my hands to hold onto his hips. I won’t lie. This is fucking hot right now. I know in the back of my mind I should stop this. He isn’t in the right state of mind, and could take things too far. My mind needs to shut the hell up and enjoy the ride, because my vagina has other plans. She wants every bit of what this man is about to give her.

  I go to lift his shirt off and he stops my hands. He shakes his head in a “no” gesture and I drop my hands to my sides. He runs his right hand up my bare skin until he reaches my hair. He grabs a handful and fists it in his hand, yanking forcefully, pulling my head back slightly. With his other hand, he runs it up my lower back until he reaches my bra. He unclasps it and pulls it from my arms, throwing it to the floor. He brings his free hand to my hip and presses himself into me. I feel how hard he is, but he doesn’t rush things.

  He’s cupping my hip hard and I’ll probably have a bruise tomorrow, but the way this girl is pooling with moisture down below, frankly, I don’t care right now. He pulls my head, smashing his lips into mine. He’s seeking entrance, and I part my lips, letting him devour my mouth.

  Releasing my hair, he runs his hand down my body until he reaches the hem of my skirt. Grabbing the bottom, be pushes it up until it’s bunched around my waist. He leaves it there, and with both hands, moves to my panties where he rips them off in a matter of a few seconds. He parts my legs and enters me with two fingers. I release his bottom lip I had been softly biting and gasp.

  “I like how wet you get for me, Shannon. Has anyone else ever made you feel the way I do?” he asks.

  I can only shake my head from left to right. He removes his fingers and brings them to my mouth. “Taste how hot I make you,” he says, while pushing his fingers into my mouth. I suck them dry. With hooded eyes and a sinister grin, he could be a demon and I’d do anything he told me to right now. Consequences be damned. I want him as badly as he wants me. No one has ever made me feel the way he does. Safe. Wanted. Good. Bad. Beautiful. Sinful. Content…Whole.

  “Who owns you? Who owns this?” he asks as he’s cupping my vagina roughly. Did he just use the word “own” while referring to me? Oh fuck! I don’t care what he said as long as he doesn’t stop making me feel this way.

  “Answer me, Shannon,” he shouts, putting those same two fingers back inside me. Oh God.

  “You do…Oh, God!” I’ll say anything he wants to hear at this point, as long as he doesn’t stop loving me like this. Whoa. Love? Where did that come from?

  “Baby, this has nothing to do with God. This is all me, and you are all mine.” He removes his fingers and hoists me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. His hand is back in my hair, fisting and yanking my head back. I’m pressed against the wall and he’s kissing, biting, and sucking my neck, down to my shoulder and down to my breasts.

  I don’t hear him when unzips his pants, but when he lowers me a few inches, I feel all of him as he slams inside of me. Fuck! He doesn’t give me chance to adjust as he pulls out and slams forcefully back inside. As much as it fucking hurts, it hurts fucking good.

  He takes a step backward as he is exiting me, and when he enters again, my back is slammed into the wall behind me. Yeah, that didn’t feel exceptionally good, but the heat running through me before makes up for it. I know when I wake up, I’m going to have several battle wounds.

  He continues his exiting, stepping back and then entering, slamming me into the wall a few more times. Somehow, I’m still managing to build to an explosive climax. I feel myself nearing the end as I feel him start to pulse inside of me. The waves start to pour over me and I hear him grunt. I know he’s coming with me. He slams into me harder this last time; I’m shuddering in his arms.

  “Aghhh,” I scream, but not because of the pleasure raining down on me. I’ve just felt something crush into my back and it hurt like hell. What the fuck was that? It’s still poking me in my ribs and I need Nick to release me. I push at his shoulders. He removes himself from inside me and releases my legs from around his waist. He takes a step back and I almost fall to the floor. I’m in so much pain. I don’t know what just happened. He turns and heads for his bedroom and I’m left bending over to the floor. I don’t think he realizes the pain I’m in. He’s just walked away.

  I sit on the floor on my hands and knees for several minutes trying to catch my breath. It isn’t easy to breathe. I feel like I’ve been kicked in the ribs, and with every breath, there is pain. So much, pain that I don’t want to breathe, but not breathing isn’t an option. The lights are off so I can’t see what Nick slammed me into. I know he didn’t do it on purpose. We were both caught in a moment of lust, desire and passion, but fucking hell, did it have to end with me on the floor hurting and Nick nowhere to be found?

  I finally stand up. The pain is still there when I make it to Nick’s bedroom. The lights are off, but there is a little light from the window shining in. Nick is lying in bed asleep. Perfect. When I need you, you can’t help me.

  TWELVE

  “What the fuck!” I hear Nick’s voice and I open my eyes as he is walking back into his bedroom. I look over to the table next to the bed to see what time it is. It’s a few minutes past 6am. Too early for me.

  “Babe, who broke the stereo control panel on the wall?” he asks as I bring my attention back to the man standing in the doorway. He is dressed in a black suit wearing a red shirt underneath. He looks like himself again, pulled together, in control and sexier than sin. In that moment, everything from last night comes back to me. The hot sex and the pain….God damn the pain. Mother fucking shit, I hurt.

  I’m lying in the bed on my stomach with the covers pulled over me. “You did, or w−we did,” I say while wincing from the sharp pain on the right side of my back where my ribs are located. God, I don’t want to move, but I have to get to work. I have been neglecting my job for far too long since moving into my house. Nick is looking at his hands, front and back like he’s expecting to find cuts and bruises He looks back at me with a confused look on his face as I’m getting up. FUCK me that hurt.

  “Huh, how…Shannon, what the fuck happened to your back?” He’s clutching the doorframe and staring at me as I look back at him over my shoulder. Apparently, there is a mark. Go figure. As much as this hurts, there would be a fucking mark. Damn, I bet he’s going to flip worse than when I had a bruised shoulder.

  He marches in the room, straight to me. I’m sitting on the edge of the bed when he pulls me up in front of him and turns me so he can see my back. He’s staring and then he looks at the door where he just
came from. I think it’s dawning on him what happened.

  “Oh fucking Christ, no.” He closes his eyes briefly, but when they reopen, there is so much pain reflecting back at me that it hurts my heart. I know he technically did this, but it wasn’t on purpose.

  “I’m−su−sure it’s not−as bad as it looks,” I force out. I didn’t get that sentence out too well. The pain is getting a little worse the more I talk. I just want to lie back down. Perhaps going into work isn’t a good idea.

  “Oh, God, what did I fucking do? No. No no no. Why aren’t you breathing normally? What the fuck did I do?” He’s running his hands through his hair and he can’t stop staring at my back. He’s blaming himself, and I haven’t really explained.

  “Nick stop. Th−this isn’t−your fault.” I try to tell him. He isn’t buying it. It was just a freak accident that happened. No one is to blame; although it might help me feel a little better if I had someone to cuss right now. This shit really hurts.

  “The hell it isn’t. Look at yourself. You have a bruise the size of my head, and there’s dried blood from scrape marks. You can’t even fucking breathe. I’m taking you the hospital.” He gets up, walks to his dresser drawer and opens the one with my clothes in it.

  “I don’t need to−ahhh−go to the hospital.” I probably do, but I hate it when he gets all demanding like this.

  “Yes, you do, and you’re going. You could have a cracked or broken rib. Oh God, baby, I’m so fucking sorry.” He walks back over to me with my clothes. He helps put everything on me, even my socks and tennis shoes.

  “Please stop saying you’re sorry. If it makes you feel better, the sex was hot.” I’m trying to lighten the mood, or his mood rather by telling him the truth. It was so fucking hot…up until the moment the pain started.

  “No, it doesn’t. Fuck. Wrap your arms around me. I’m going to carry you to the car,” he says as he wraps one arm around my waist, and with the other he lifts my legs off the ground.