by West, Jade
“This is his doing, isn’t it?” he spat. “This is that piece of shit’s influence on you all over again?”
I didn’t have an answer for that, but I felt my cheeks burning up.
“Don’t think I don’t know about you diving right back into that filthy pit with that filthy cunt, Anna. I know all about what you ran back to, with those slutty little legs of yours spread wide and begging.”
I shook my head. “It wasn’t like that.”
He laughed in my face. “Oh, believe me. I know what it was like. I pulled you up from the wreck of it last time around, remember?”
I did remember.
I remembered and I was grateful, and I would be again, but he looked so spiteful and so wronged that I couldn’t find the words to tell him so.
“He ditched you for that other bitch again, didn’t he?” he laughed. “Like you didn’t learn your lesson first time around.”
We’d had this conversation over a nice meal, and a heart to heart, and me offering a million apologies and telling him I was eager to try again. I thought we’d covered it. He’d told me we had. He’d told me he’d accepted that I’d had a blip in my sanity and was ready to try again.
He’d said he wanted that too.
“Please, let’s go to bed,” I said. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”
I took off my necklace and dropped it on the bedside table, and tried to ease into our night time, but he was right up and at me, spinning me around by my arm and putting his face up close to mine.
“We’ll talk about it whenever I fucking want to talk about it. We’ll talk about it with your filthy fucking breath on the air and that vile, perverted cunt still coming between us.”
“I don’t know what you mean…” I tried. “Nobody is coming between us… we’re starting again…”
“So show me you want me,” he said, and his voice was low and cold. “If you’re so keen to start again, show me how you want me so much more than him. You barely looked at me in the club, just like fucking always. People are laughing at me, you know? They’re laughing that I’m pathetic enough to give you another fucking go…”
My heart dropped and thumped, right in my belly. Because I couldn’t. I couldn’t show him that I wanted him so much more than Lucas. I was still trying to show myself.
I knew people would be laughing at him, and I was sorry.
I was sorry, and I wanted to show it, but I couldn’t.
I’d told him it would take time, building bridges and making a new life together before we could be what we were before, and he’d told me it would be ok. He’d told me we’d work at it.
“I can’t show you anything just yet,” I managed to say. “We need time…”
“Oh, right,” he snapped back. “So, we need time now, do we? You didn’t need time when you were diving into bed with that cunt, did you? I bet you were climbing the fucking walls to get to his dick.”
“Stop,” I said, but my voice was just a breath. “It wasn’t like that…”
I hated how he squeezed my arm and yanked me towards him. I hated how his eyes glared harder and his fingers gripped tighter.
“Answer me one thing,” he said. “What is it you like so much about that piece of shit? What is it about him that drives you so fucking crazy?”
“It wasn’t like that…” I said again, and tried to pull away.
But he wouldn’t let me. He gripped tighter, and sneered harder, and put his face right up to mine.
“You always were that dirty little slut, weren’t you?” he hissed. “I tried to make you someone better, but it never worked, did it?”
“Stop it.”
“I thought I was picking you up off the floor and leaving your filthy slut ways behind, but I wasn’t, was I? You kept hold of them the whole fucking time.”
I shook my head, because he was talking crap.
He rarely got like this, so spiteful and so bitter and so vile.
He was usually wrapping me up in cotton wool every second of the day, and making me promise to be good, and healthy, and take care in every little way he told me how.
“This is nothing to do with me and Lucas,” I told him. “This is about us, and starting again. I want to start again!”
There was a strength in my voice I hadn’t heard all night. I felt a flash of myself back in my veins, because I couldn’t let myself slip back into those same old shoes. Not for anything or anyone. I couldn’t let go of the very person I’d been so desperate to find in myself those past few months.
I thought he’d love that person.
I thought he’d love me.
I shrugged him off a whole load harder and looked him straight in the eyes.
“Let’s go to bed,” I said. “We’ll talk in the morning, when we can talk properly again. It’s been a long night.”
I pushed past him to find my nightdress from my overnight bag, and was leaning over to sort through my things when his arms wrapped around my waist, clenched tight, and spun me off my feet. I was unbalanced in a heartbeat, and he threw me down onto the bed, and I stared up at him open mouthed, because I didn’t get it. I didn’t understand.
“I tried to do everything for you!” he barked. “I sort your useless fucking brain out when you’re such a state you don’t even know your own name. I pick you up from the floor when you’re too fucked to take the most basic fucking care of your own piss, and this is how you repay me?! This is how you fucking repay me?!”
I’d heard this kind of rage from him before whenever he was in one of these dickhead moods over the years, but I thought we were done with it.
He’d apologised for his bullshit and I’d apologised back for mine, and we’d started over.
He’d said we’d started over.
“Please stop,” I said, and tried to get up, but he pushed me back down.
“Is that what you say to him when he’s trying to fuck you? Do you say stop?”
“What’s that got to do with anything?” I asked, and I was getting angry right back at him, even under my fucked up nerves.
“It’s got everything to do with fucking everything!” he raged. “Because I want to know. I asked you what is it you like so much about that piece of shit, Anna, and I want to fucking know!”
I shook my head. “It’s got nothing to do with us! I’m here because I want to give us another go!”
“And I’m telling you, I want to know why you want his fucking dick so much!”
I felt sick inside when I met his stare.
He thought I was disgusting.
He thought I was seedy, and useless, and a pitiful excuse for myself.
But it was more than that.
He hated me when I was like this and always had done.
He hated me ignoring his advice and making my own choices.
He hated me being me.
“This is about me having a prosecco, isn’t it?” I asked him. “Because I’ll have one if I want one, Sebastian. Thanks for your advice, but I’ll have one if I want one! You aren’t my childminder!”
I really did try to get up from the bed this time, and he really did push me back down hard. I squirmed, but he kept me in position, and his eyes filled with a whole fresh round of rage.
“Why do you want his fucking dick so much, Anna?” he sneered, and his hand pinned my wrists above my head.
I squirmed and bucked, but the bed was soft, and it was hard to get leverage. And then he moved. He moved fast and hard, and managed tug my dress up and yank my knickers down my legs, and I spat and cursed and told him to stop, just fucking stop! But he kept on going.
And then those knickers were up in my face. They were up in my face and he was rubbing them hard against my nose and shoving them into my mouth as I tried to fight him off.
“Does this make it better?!” he grunted. “Is this what he does with your filthy fucking knickers to make it so much fucking better?! Don’t think I don’t remember what that filthy cunt used to do to you!”
I hated that I’d shared everything about my past, and my fears, and my dreams, and believed that he was going to be so fucking much to me.
I kicked out, but he pressed down harder, and my knickers were still rammed in my mouth and held tight. I was retching, and trying to breathe and trying to protest as my brain screamed to a whole new tune, but I couldn’t stop him. I didn’t have the strength.
“I’ll be the man you fucking want me to be, shall I?!” he snarled. “I’ll be your next Lucas fucking Pierce and his cunting fucking perversions, you disgusting little slut!”
I tried to scream out again, but it was muffled.
“I made you more than this!” he spat. “I worked so hard to make you more than this!”
I couldn’t cry out, just retched.
“Why won’t you fucking love me?” he hissed. “I tell you what, Anna. I’ll make you love me! I’ll be just the man you fucking need! Just keep fucking still and let me fucking show you!”
I didn’t keep still.
I didn’t stop squirming and I didn’t stop retching and trying to scream, and I didn’t stop hating the man Sebastian became when I wasn’t the woman he wanted me to be.
I’d forgotten this man.
I’d always blamed myself for this version of this man.
But not tonight.
I didn’t blame myself tonight.
Not anymore.
I didn’t stop wishing I was anywhere other than underneath the man I’d run back to because I was scared and alone and believed he wanted the best for me.
I didn’t stop knowing what was happening as he pinned me down hard and forced himself into me.
Didn’t stop begging him to stop as he slammed into me.
And I didn’t stop crying when he was done.
“Oh, quit with fucking tears,” he said, as I scrambled to tug my dress back down. “We both know you like it rough. You should be thanking me for showing you a good time for once in your sorry life.”
I rolled onto my side and pulled my knees to my chest, and I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t do anything but try to catch my breath.
“Let’s go to bed now, then,” he scoffed. “We’ll talk about it in the morning. Hopefully you won’t need another prosecco over breakfast. I’ll make you some eggs, just how you like them.”
He laughed. He shook his head and laughed, and stared over like I was me and he was him, and we were us all over again.
And sure he was. He was Sebastian again, cool and calm as he finished his own undressing and got himself ready for under the covers, but I was anything but me.
I could never be cool and calm again. Not in the same room as the man I’d believed would take care of me when I couldn’t take care of myself. Because he’d… he’d…
He scoffed again as he gestured me off the bed. “Oh come on, Anna. Calm yourself down now or you’ll be having another seizure. You know how upset you get when you wake up soaking in the morning.”
My head was spinning, and my nerves were jangling, and my heart was racing, and everything was confused and wrong and broken.
“Come on,” he said, and held out a hand to help me up, but I shied away, scared, and so shocked that I didn’t know what the hell I should be doing.
Except I did know what the hell I should be doing.
I should be getting the hell out of there. I should be anywhere but in the same room as the man who’d just…
Who’d just…
Who’d just…
“Don’t be shy,” he said, and there was that scoff in his voice again. “We both know you liked that. I should have made a dirty little slut out of you years ago, then you wouldn’t have needed to run back to that filthy prick in the first place.”
I was shaking my head, even though I couldn’t find my voice, and my arms finally came to life, pushing me up and away from that bed, where my feet took up the mission and backed me to the door.
“Come to bed,” he said, and he had that stare in his eyes that I’d seen a million times before. The stare that told me I was ill, and unwell, and needed him to make my decisions and take care of me.
The stare that told me I should stop thinking, and stop questioning, and get in bed under the covers, just where he told me I should be.
But not anymore.
Not now he’d…
Because how could he…
How could that ever be ok…
He saw it in my eyes. My pain and my hurt and my disbelief. He saw my clarity striking and my heartrate picking up even further in fight or flight, and my face take on enough disgust to send me backing out onto the landing.
“Fucking hell, Anna!” he snapped. “Going bailing on me again now, are you? You barely lasted another fucking week of the new life you wanted to invest in so fucking badly!”
Yes, I was bailing on him again.
I was stumbling backwards towards the staircase, wanting anywhere but there. Wanting anything but him.
I backed away faster as he appeared in the bedroom doorway, panic rising.
“You think anyone is going to listen to any more of your whining, pathetic bullshit? Everyone’s already spent months of their lives trying to reason with your useless fucking brain. Do you really think they’re going to pat you on the back when you tell them you’ve fucked up your sweet little fucking life another fucking time already?”
I didn’t think that.
I didn’t think anyone would pat me on the back for anything.
Let alone myself.
I’d never pat myself on the back for ever considering I could ever make this right again.
I was just scared.
Lonely.
Destroyed by the man I’d prayed would help me heal.
I backed my way down the stairs and raced to the kitchen.
I grabbed my handbag from the counter, and managed to pull my shoes on and rush towards the front door, and I didn’t even grab my coat on the way back through, my heart was racing too fast to care.
I heard him before the door shut behind me, shouting down the stairs at me like I was the same sad little invalid he’d been babysitting for years.
“Fuck you then, Anna!” he called after me. “See who else puts up with your disgusting little ways, and your disgusting little bodily functions to go along with them. We’re fucking done!”
Yes, we were.
Yes, we were fucking done.
And so was I.
Only this time I had nobody I could run to.
This time I was well and truly alone with nowhere to go.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Lucas
I could barely sleep all over again – tossing and turning in the now so familiar blur of self-pity and regret, hating myself all over again for losing Anna in the first place.
In the day, I was making it through, but nights were harder. So much fucking harder.
At least I wasn’t drinking my way to salvation this time around.
I think I’d been dreaming. Yet another mash up of running after Millie and running after Anna too. But getting nowhere. Always getting nowhere.
I cursed my life and rolled over to the edge of the bed. The beside clock said 4.18 a.m. and I cursed the dark as well.
My phone was there on the bedside table, and I picked it up for the distraction, emails and bullshit social media streams that didn’t mean shit to me, but my thumb didn’t click on them. It took its usual route to my work identity and login, and I called up her details, just like always.
Anna’s phone. No doubt on standby as she slept soundly next to Sebastian bastard Maitland in her new life without me.
But tonight it wasn’t on standby.
It was active.
Active at 4.20 a.m.
I propped myself up on an elbow, suddenly switched on and wide awake, because I didn’t understand it.
There was no way Anna’s phone would be active at 4.20 a.m. Not with Sebas
tian Maitland taking care of her.
And if he wasn’t…
What the hell did it mean if he wasn’t?
I dug further and I shouldn’t have done it, but I shouldn’t have done many things associated with Anna on my work identity. I clicked on the tracker and my gut twisted as the dot positioned itself over the street view.
The Neptune fountain.
Her phone was active at the Neptune fountain at approaching half four a.m.
What the fuck was she doing at the Neptune fountain at half four in the fucking morning?
I couldn’t ignore the weird tension in my chest as I flicked on the bedside lamp and got myself out of bed. I tried her phone as I was getting dressed, but my number was still blocked. The line was dead to me.
It was probably nothing. I was probably still dream-drunk and half sane, and this crazy flash of panic was nothing short of ridiculous, but I couldn’t stop myself.
I headed downstairs and I got my shoes on and grabbed my keys.
Even the dogs looked at me like I was crazy when I made my way through the kitchen. They tried to follow me to the front door but I sent them back to their bed, and then I stepped out into the night.
The lanes were empty, and so were the roads into Cheltenham. Parking was easy at this time of night, and I pulled up in a side street just along from the fountain, cursing myself all over again as I jumped out and headed over. It was probably nothing. I was probably being ridiculous, and it was all probably ok.
Only it wasn’t ridiculous.
And it wasn’t ok.
She wasn’t ok.
My heart stopped dead when I saw her there, a tiny huddle on the grass in front of the fountain.
My feet pounded the tarmac as I raced to her, and I was calling her name but she didn’t turn around, not until I was right on top of her and reaching out.
And then she screamed.
She screamed and shuffled away and turned towards me wide-eyed and scared. And she didn’t know me. Barely registered who I was. Barely knew anything through her own fear.
“Jesus Christ, Anna. What the fuck happened?!” I called out to her, and her eyes focused on mine.
