Make Me Yours

by Kar, Alla

  I’m too scared to turn my back and run, so I put my fist up and hold them there. I know it’s ridiculous, but I can’t let him hurt anyone else. I have to end this. I can’t end up like my dad. I won’t lose everything because I hustled the wrong person.

  I close my eyes and throw a punch, contacting with his jaw. I’m surprised I even hit him, but he grabs my arms and tosses me over and onto the couch. I crash into his wooden coffee table, sending wood scattering out around his living room. I feel something hard drive into my back, I scream, unable to get up.

  Rod stares down at me, smiling. He reaches my jeans and unzips them. Oh, God, no. Please, give me strength. I slap, and claw at his face, pressing my thumbs into this eyes. He growls and holds both of my wrists in his grip. I kick, bite and scream but no one calls the cops, no one even hears us.

  My panties are at my ankles, and he leans up to unzip his own jeans. I push up, but he slams me back down, slugging me in the face. My eyes blacken and I moan. I can feel my eye swelling shut.

  No, my vision is going in and out. I see black and white, different shapes swirling around. I can feel the pressure of him against me. I close my eyes and shake my head back and forth. Rod’s head snaps up, but I’m too out of it to know what he’s looking at. He lifts up, and I feel the pressure off of me, I’m light. I’m picked up. “Shh, baby. I’m going to give you to Brett. Hang on to him.” I cry out, knowing its Taylor. I press my mouth to his neck but he is passing me on. I try to reach after him, but he is out of my sight.

  Chapter Nine

  The faint sound of constant dripping wakes me. My eyes focus on the light, but I close them again. “I think she’s awake,” someone says. “Doctor.”

  I feel someone poke me in the arm, I wince. What the hell? “She’s gonna be fine, ma’am. I need you to please go take a seat outside.”

  “No, I need to talk to her now!” I know that voice anywhere. Cindy.

  “Yes, escort her out, please.” The doctor mumbles underneath his breath. “You have some majorly concerned friends, love,” he says, mostly to himself.

  I’m not sure if I smile where he can see or not, but I know I’m smiling on the inside.

  My body hurts. More than I’d ever want to experience again. I hope child birth isn’t this bad. My eyes feel heavy, I can’t open it. My side hurt, then there is my back. I remember hitting the wooden table and I wince knowing it probably stuck in me. My fingers work just fine, and I wiggle them first, then I try my toes. They all work. Now, I have to work on my eyes.

  I manage to push past the sleepiness and open one of my eyes. The other is too swelled shut. The light is lowered, so I can see. The TV is casting a glow against my face, and I smile at Glee. I stir and glance around the room. My eyes settle on the person staring back at me, gray eyes wide. “Are you really awake this time?” Taylor asks, walking toward me.

  He drops down on his knees and examines my face. “Jesus,” he says, voice low. “Fuck, Layla. What in the hell were you thinking?”

  A tear slides down my eye. “What happened? I blacked out.”

  He slides his fingers against my lips and through my hair. “I took care of it, sweetie. Don’t worry about it. You don’t have to think about him again.”

  Running my fingers over his tattoos, I glance up at him. “What did you do? Is he dead?”

  Taylor shakes his head. “Jail. Awaiting trial.”

  Relief floods through me. “For how long, when is his trial?”

  He shrugs. “A month or two.” He jaw clenches. “Why did you go over there, Layla? I was fucking panicking when I couldn’t find you. I saw the window opened and…” he trails off, shoving his head into the pillow.

  I stroke his short, brown hair and sniffle. “I had to try…I had to try. I couldn’t have him after me, because it would only hurt you guys.”

  Taylor bites at his lip and kisses me softly. “You’re a fucking lunatic, Layla.”

  I let out a laugh that hurts my back. “Oh,” I say, closing my eyes. “Am I going to be okay? My back…”

  “It didn’t hit anything that would hurt you. You’ll have to do therapy to heal it.” Taylor nods, and grabs my hands. “I’ll help you through it.”

  The thought of Taylor helping me make me smile. I furrow my brow. “I’m a disaster, Taylor. I can’t stay with you.”

  He laughs and rubs his nose into my neck. “Layla, you really think this is going to scare me off?” He stands up and smiles. “I’m here for the long hall. I like you. I don’t want you to leave just because you’re scared for me. I want to be the one that protects you. Why can’t you see that?”

  “It’s not that simple, Taylor.”

  “Is this about your dad’s rules? Don’t you get it? You don’t have to hustle anyone. All you have to do is be with me, I’ll take care of you.”

  My heart thumps louder. My blood is pumping hard in my veins. He leans down and grabs my chin. “Let me make you mine,” he whispers.

  I nod. He takes my lips with his and seals the deal.

  Epilogue

  The sun is shining down when I walk out of the hospital. Taylor has me in a wheel chair. They chased us out, since Brett and him were racing down the hall with me in a wheel chair and Cindy in the other.

  “Thanks, nurse,” Taylor says, but she sneers at him and walks back into the hospital.

  “What’s her problem?” he asks, helping me out and slowly lifting me in his arms.

  “I don’t’ know, maybe because you deliberately ignored her when she was yelling at you to stop.”

  He shrugs and lowers me into the Charger. “She needs a lay.”

  Cindy pulls my feet into her lap and pats my leg. “You okay?”

  “Okay as I’ll ever be.” I shrug.

  Cindy pulls on her blonde ponytail. “He’ll be in jail for a while, Lay. You’ll be safe.”

  I give her a reassuring smile and look out the window. The hospital disappears from view, and I hope I don’t have to see it for a while. Cindy told me that Taylor beat Rod until he was almost dead. I was out for a few days, but during that time Rod was being treated, and then was sent to jail. The thought of him being so close to me again, makes my skin crawl. Taylor doesn’t have a scratch on him. I figured as much.

  Brett pulls us up to our small apartment. It’s weird knowing I’ll being staying in my own bed tonight. Even though, I had only stayed a few nights with Taylor. He helps me out, and carries me up the stairs to my bed. “Here ya go, is that okay?” he asks, tucking me under the covers.

  I nod. “Are you leaving?” I ask.

  He furrows his brow. “Of course not. I’m staying here with you.”

  Relief floods me. I pat the place to next to me and Taylor slides in beside me, under the covers, cradling me to him. “Thank you for staying.”

  “Ummhmm,” he says into my ear.

  “Can I ask you a question, Taylor?”

  “Sure.”

  “What was Rod talking about when he said your dad beat you?”

  Taylor’s arms froze around me. “Because, he did.” I wait for him to continue. He sighs and hugs me closer. “He was very abusive. When I was younger, it wasn’t as bad. But, once I hit thirteen his temper flared and he began to drink more. He talked with his fist more than anything else.” He laughs without humor. “It was for the stupidest shit ever, too. It would frustrate me to know I would have to come home to that. I would sneak out and stay with my friends for weeks, before he would drag me back home, literary.”

  I dig underneath my covers. “Where is he now?”

  Taylor shrugs. “Who knows? Prison? My mother left us, when I turned sixteen. She left all of us with him. That made him angrier. That’s when I started fighting. I got good, and started making money. I’d hide it from him. I finally earned enough to get out, and here I am on Ohio at college.”

  “I’m glad you’re here,” I say, snuggling into him.

  He nods and kisses into my hair. “Me, too.”

  “Hey,
Layla?” Cindy asks from the door. She opens it and hands me an envelope. “It’s for you.” I take it and read the front. It doesn’t say who it’s from.

  I slide my finger underneath the seal and pull out the letter.

  I finally found you.

  Remember me?

  I’m not finished with you yet.

  The words aren’t what makes my skin crawl, it’s the scorpion drawn onto the paper below the note. The same one on the man’s face that killed my family.

  A scream rips from my throat.

  I’m not finished with you yet.

  To Be Continued…