by Ellis Marie
Immediately, my body freezes as his pelvis presses against my butt. There’s a ringing in my ears as I go cold, vomit curling in my stomach. It’s like I can feel Matt’s hand wrapping around my throat, scraping his nails against my skin as he spits nothing but words of insult into my ear and ignores my pleas.
Just f*cking lie there, it’s not that hard.
He kicks off his jeans as he presses me further into the bed, caging me with his body.
My legs are suddenly bare and his skin is flush against mine, the sweat strange against my cold skin. My arms ache from being held. My throat is sore from trying to scream.
You’re worthless.
Just as I think I’m going to pass out, when my head feels as though it is about to split and my lungs beg me to give up, the weight leaves me and my arms are released, falling to my sides.
He stopped?
I open my eyes to see only green in front of me, my shaking fingers curling around blades of grass. A guttural sob cracks from my chest as air rushes back into my lungs and my eyes blur, my body collapsing in on itself.
I can still feel him.
My skin is like fire as something touches my arm, and I throw myself away.
“Don’t f*cking touch me,” I scream at the figure, my voice scratching with agony, then weaker. “Please, don’t touch me.”
I can only stare at my hands. I don’t know if it’s from tears in my eyes or if they’re shaking so badly that they’re blurring.
My ringing ears don’t hear someone calling me softly until they are right in front of me, as if their voice is underwater.
I’m worthless.
Heartbroken eyes watch me with a softness that I’ve never seen in them before, breaking through the fog of my memories only a little. It’s as if I’m looking through them.
“Elle,” he whispers cautiously, his gaze unwavering. “You’re safe, I’m here.”
I hear his words but I don’t comprehend them, the cries still bubbling from my lips. My head is filled with ice blue and venomous words. There’s a sensation from my hand that pulls me out of the blackness of my head. I blink away the memories as I look at my lap. My hands are on top of it. Nothing is touching me, except in one place—a pinkie interlocked with mine.
It takes a second for me to understand what it is, but when I do, my head clears and my body falls forward, the sadness within pouring onto the ground in front of me.
After a while, my head catches up with my body and calms down, but when it does, the embarrassment floods through me. I don’t want to look up.
I’ve just had a full-blown panic attack in front of other people. I’ve screamed at Cole and broken down crying. If they didn’t think I was weak and pathetic before, then they sure would now.
“Elle.” Trent’s voice is soft, and his finger tightens around my own. “Mi vida, there’s no one else here; it’s just me.”
Cautiously, I look up and around us. I notice that the sun is now low and almost disappearing, meaning that I have been sitting like this for quite some time, but I also notice that he’s telling the truth. All the people who had been out here before are nowhere to be seen; the luscious, green lawn is completely empty.
“But I never heard . . .” My throat scratches with the words. I wince at the sound of my voice; it’s like nails on a blackboard.
Trent offers me a small, half-smile and taps the side of his head. “Mind link. I asked everyone to give you some privacy.”
I nod, taking a deep breath and wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. My head is pounding with the strain that I’ve caused to it.
“Thank you,” I mumble. “I’m sorry that happened, it shouldn’t have—”
“Stop. You have nothing to apologise for,” Trent interrupts, his voice harsh and firm; it shocks me a little. “Cole shouldn’t have done that to you, and I’ll be making sure that he knows it.”
Panic floods through me at the thought of Cole getting reprimanded for my actions and my response when he was only trying to help.
“No!” I yell, pulling my hand away from him. “That’s not fair, it wasn’t his fault.”
“Elle, he—”
“He didn’t do anything,” I say while trying to get myself up to my feet, but my legs are like jelly beneath me. I stumble a little. “I asked him to teach me. He didn’t mean to.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Trent answers. “He still pushed it too far, and—”
“No!” I argue, shaking my head as our words layer on top of each other.
“He shouldn’t have used force like that on you—”
“No!”
“You shouldn’t be getting put in those situations when—”
“Stop it.”
“You can’t be scaring yourself like that.”
“Just stop!” I shout, shoving off his hand that’s reached out to comfort me, his eyes filled with confusion. “You don’t get it, do you?”
“I’m not trying to hurt you, Elle.”
“Yes, that’s exactly it. You’re not.” I take a deep breath. “But other people are.”
As I’ve said the words, I know that they are entirely true. I don’t want to admit it to myself, but I haven’t truly felt safe in a long time. Just knowing that someone is going to be there for me isn’t enough. I need to start believing in myself.
His dumbstruck expression only deepens at my words. I sigh, stepping towards him.
“Even before I met you, I was always the weak one in my life and controlled by those who surrounded me. You’ve introduced me into a world that I will never be on the same level as. I’m so happy that you’re here to protect me, but you can’t be there all the time. I need to do this. I need to learn how to protect myself because I’ve never been able to, and I need this.”
He hovers his arm around my waist as I lay my hands onto his chest, letting him know that it’s alright to touch me. The heat of them melt away the reserves I have about completely opening up to him and then I can’t stop myself from speaking.
“I’ve never been able to defend myself. I mean, unless you count smashing a vase over my father’s head, but that wasn’t really me doing any work.” I chuckle weakly, hoping to break a little of the tension, but Trent’s gaze stays locked on me, his mouth flat. “I need to feel like I can protect myself, even a little. I can’t have this fear hovering over my shoulder constantly and this weakness in me. I have to feel stronger or else, I’ll never beat this or get over it enough to be happy. I need to have faith in myself.”
Understanding shines in his eyes. I’m relieved that he isn’t going to laugh at me or tell me that my ideas are stupid. Instead, there’s a comfort in them that lets me know that he gets it . . . that he gets me completely.
“I know that you want to protect me, but I want to protect myself too.”
“Okay,” he answers, his hand gently coming up to cup around my jaw. “You can train.”
“Thank you.”
“But I’m the one that’s training you.” He smiles a little and glances down before returning his gaze to mine. “Especially if you’re going to be wearing that.”
Heat floods my cheeks as I try to ignore his compliment and focus on the other part of his sentence.
“That might be a little difficult considering you seem to be extremely busy all the time,” I say breezily, tilting up my eyebrow as I wait for a response.
The smile drops from his face as he winces and refuses to look me in the eyes, beginning to pull his body away from me, but I latch onto it and force him to turn his head around, unwilling to let him avoid me any longer.
“Have I done something?”
The sigh that leaves his body is one of defeat. “No,” he shakes his head, creasing his forehead. “It’s me that hasn’t done anything. That’s the problem.”
“I don’t—”
“You want to learn to defend yourself and I love that,” he explains, his voice tight and jaw clenching. “But I need to be able to protect you. Not just for
my own sanity, but for my wolf’s and for the pack’s. And so far, I haven’t exactly done a great job in doing that, have I?”
My heart breaks at the sight of him looking so down and unsure of himself, the frustration clear as I feel his hand tighten around me.
“You couldn’t have known about the bomb, Trent.”
“But I should have been there to protect you. And I should at least now have a lead or something to prevent it from happening again, but I have nothing. I’ve been looking and searching and tracking any bit of evidence that I could, but nothing helps me to protect you.” His head softly knocks against mine as I wrap my arms around his neck and hold him to me, letting him rest his forehead on my shoulder. “Nothing.”
I haven’t realised how much this is affecting him.
In one act, someone could have killed not only his luna, but his best friend too. I haven’t really comprehended how difficult that probably is for him and the stress that it’s putting him under.
I’m trying to move on from it and forget about it, but Trent . . . Trent is trying to stop it from ever happening again.
“You can’t solve everything,” I whisper, softly stroking the hair on the back of his neck with my hands. “You can’t burden yourself with so much. We’ll figure it out together.”
He pulls back from me, our eyes swirling with so many unsaid emotions that it’s a little overwhelming.
“But I can’t stay cooped up in here, missing out on my life. I’ve already missed so much of it because of Matt and my father; I can’t miss anymore because we’re afraid.”
Pulling him into me, I kiss him softly and curl my fingers around his face. “There is no one else who I’d trust more in my life than you. I know I’m going to be alright.”
He smiles a little at my words and nods, the tension between us dropping as we move out of each other’s space and take a deep breath. Relief settles over me like the comfort he brings.
“I think Cole wants to apologise to you,” Trent mumbles, his eyes flickering to the back door. “If you’re up for that?”
Smiling, I take his hand and walk with him to the house. My body begins to feel the exhaustion that the previous few hours have taken on it. A workout and a breakdown? That’s pretty much my limit for the day.
Trent opens the back door and motions for me to go in, the action alone sending little butterflies through me. I chastise myself for getting so worked up over a simple little gesture.
He’s always such a gentleman, so considerate and polite and—
“Elle!” Cole’s voice interrupts my train of thought as he spins around from his conversation with Scarlette, his eyes filled with panic as he glances over me. I can already see the stress that he’s been putting himself under. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”
Before he can continue to apologise, I walk up to him and wrap my arms around his waist. I nuzzle my head into his chest as he stands frozen in shock, his words coming out as syllables above me.
“I . . . um . . . you are . . . what?”
“I’m totally fine, and you don’t need to say anything. I asked you to train me, and you did. You couldn’t have known what was going to happen and I don’t hate you.”
Cole’s torso deflates as he returns my hug. I feel his chin rest against the top of my head, the questions and worries leaving him in an instant.
“See,” Scarlette says from beside us, slapping a hand onto Cole’s shoulder. “I told you she wouldn’t be upset with you, and if she’s not upset, then Trent has no right to be either so you’re off the hook.”
She shoots a pointed look at Trent. I can see his eyebrow raise at the statement as his glare settles on Cole. I subtly clear my throat to get his attention, narrowing my eyes at him when it works.
For a moment, we’re locked in battle and I’m daring him to punish Cole anymore than the poor boy has already been punishing himself. It’s not long before Trent gives in with an eye roll and holds up his hands in defeat, mumbling under his breath about how if it wasn’t for me, then Cole would be on night duty for a month.
“Have I told you you’re the best luna ever?” Cole whispers in my ear. I giggle with him, relaxing my body against the feeling of his while shouting at my brain to stop panicking.
These guys will never hurt me.
***
It’s Christmas Eve.
You could only know that by the tiny paper Christmas tree that I’ve drawn that sits above my chest of drawers, the scribbled image pathetic in comparison to people’s usual Christmas decorations.
But my father hates Christmas.
The house is dark and cold. It’s probably the only one on the street that isn’t lit with twinkling lights and inflatable animals. Our house remained the same.
I go downstairs when I hear voices, my feet padding on the carpet silently as I make my way, my pyjamas rubbing against my legs.
I recognise the voice as soon as I reach the living room, the familiar blond hair of my boyfriend sitting on the couch with my father across from him, laughing at something.
“Matt?” I ask hesitantly, not sure if I’m imagining him sitting there or not. He hasn’t really spent much time with my father. The occasional hello and such, but I was quick to keep him apart. I don’t want him to rub off on him, or for him to see how I am really treated.
“Ah, Annabelle.” My father grins, motioning for me to come into the living room. My feet obey before I can register the words. “Come, sit down. Matt was just telling me how he brought a gift over for you.”
There’s a chill in my bones as I sit next to my boyfriend, my eyes not leaving my father’s figure as I smile shakily. Matt moves beside me, his arm coming around from the side of him and holding something out.
My father pointedly stares at me and then to the gift. I finally look down at the box that’s being placed in my lap.
“Y-you didn’t have to get me anything,” I mumble, my stomach twisting in pain. “I told you earlier that you didn’t need—”
“Don’t be silly.” He grins. “I told you I was getting you something.”
It’s our first Christmas together. We’ve been dating since the summer. I’ve managed to scrounge together change from my lunches for a month to be able to buy him a picture frame and put a photo of us in it, but I asked him not to get my anything because my father didn’t believe in Christmas.
Yet here he is.
I open the box and inside is a necklace with a love heart hanging from it. The idea that I’ve actually been given something so beautiful makes my heart clench as I look at the blue-eyed boy. Carefully, turning it over in my hands, I read the inscription on the back of it. My hands go numb.
“What does it say?” my father asks, amusement pouring from him.
“I-it says Property of Matt Daley,” I whisper, the words seem to be cute but they make something in my spine stiffen.
“That’s a very fitting and thoughtful gift,” he replies, the drink in his hand swirling. “And what did you get him in return? Some cheap plastic?”
My body begins to shake as the realisation that he and Matt have been here sitting for a while settles in me and fear itches up my neck.
“It’s alright, sir—” Matt begins, waving a hand, but my father interrupts him, standing up from his chair. Even from here, I can smell the smoke and alcohol radiating off him, and my lungs constrict in response.
“You should be showing him how grateful you are, just like your mother, always ungrateful,” he continues, swallowing the remaining liquid in one gulp as he walks over to the door. “I’m going to go out for a little bit to pick up some more cigarettes. Annabelle, Matt . . . enjoy yourselves.”
The words ring in my ears as the door closes behind him. My entire being seems to go into autopilot, the necklace in my hand beginning to feel like a chain that’s imprisoning me as it’s placed around my neck.
The world is a blur, but somehow, I’m on my bed. My clothes are gone. My face is damp from crying. My lungs are sore
from containing the sobs that are threatening to break from my mouth, but I have to do this.
Pain fills me just as he does. Bile rises in my throat as my fingers curl around the sheets, scratching for an escape.
Do not disappoint.
The chain around my neck is now fingers, the pain on my body holding me down, screams around me as the pain gets worse and—
The scream echoes as I shoot up in the darkness. My eyes search for the figure that has me trapped in its embrace. My body is ready to fight it off with every ounce of energy that I can muster.
However, the room is empty, the scream is coming from my own mouth—remnants of the nightmare that seemed so real. I curl in the blankets. My heart hammering in my chest.
It wasn’t real. He isn’t here.
“Elle?” a voice calls from outside my door, panicked. “Are you alright?”
I sigh at the sound and clamber out of my bed, half running to the door. As I pull it open and turn on my light, my heart lurches in happiness when I see his soft gaze looking over me and the relieved expression that lights up his features.
“Trent.”
His eyes dart around my room quickly, looking for anything out of place before they return to me, questions nestled in them but staying put for now.
“Bad dream?” he says. I’m grateful that he doesn’t try to pry. “I just wanted to check that you were okay.”
Slowly, I take in the exhausted expression on his face, the hair that’s stuck up the wrong way, and the mark on the side of his cheek before my eyes move down to the ground and widen at the scene.
“Trent . . . were you sleeping out here?”
There are two pillows propped up on the wall and a blanket lying out in front of my door, discarding his phone on top playing some TV show that seems to be on mute but displaying subtitles.
His blush is immediate as he scratches the back of his head with eyes downcast while he struggles over his words.
“Well . . . um, I . . . you know . . . I . . .” He sighs and winces. “Yes. I was. I don’t sleep very well.”
Suddenly, I understand why he stayed outside my door, why he didn’t burst into my room thinking something had happened to me, why he is so brilliant in knowing what I’m going through.
