Another smack woke me up from my trance. I screamed for help again. My head flew forward, knocking into his, at the sound of the door opening. My eyes shot open to see Marlon barreling into the room. His entire body suspended, like he was frozen in time, when he realized what was happening.
I looked over my dad’s shoulder with pleading eyes when I heard the quiet zip of my dad’s pants through the silence. Marlon’s stared in shock, and I mouthed, “Please do something.”
My dad was oblivious to Marlon’s presence as he harshly pulled down on the waist of my jeans. I didn’t know what Marlon was going to do. I could tell he was contemplating with himself. If he stood up for me, he’d be fired and unable to support his family.
“Holy shit!” Marlon finally yelled, the chords in his neck bulging while he rushed towards us.
“Help me!” I gasped.
He grabbed my dad’s arm. “Mr. Parks!” He screamed, tugging him back. My dad ignored him, his attention focused on his attempt to get my pants off. “Mr. Parks!” Marlon yelled again, louder this time, but got nothing.
I hovered forward when the weight of his body left me and he was slammed onto the floor.
“What the fuck!” My dad yelled, looking up at Marlon in anger.
“Go to your room and lock the door,” Marlon instructed me, pushing my dad back down when he tried to get up and make a grab for me.
“Elise!” My dad screamed, his arm reaching out, his face falling. “What did I do?” He asked, his voice breaking as reality sunk in.
I ignored him, nearly tripping over my own feet when I grabbed my purse and sprinted to my bedroom. I twisted the lock, double-checking it was secure, and the tears began to pour down my face. I tossed my purse onto my bed and quickly began rummaging through it until I found my phone. I had to get out of this place.
I called the one person I knew would help me.
I called him.
He’d become my go-to.
This man I hardly knew was becoming my savior, my confidante, my run-to.
“I need you,” I cried out when he picked up. I tried my best to sound controlled, but I knew the warning was clear.
“What’s going on?” He asked.
“I need you right now. Please, come get me.” I ran my arm along my face to rid of the tears I wished I wasn’t crying for him.
“I’m on my way.”
“Meet me in the back entrance by the fire escape.”
“Got it.”
And just like that.
No questions asked, just, “I’m on my way.”
Those four words meant more to me than any dollar in the world. My entire life I’d been surrounded by people who only saw me as an opportunity, or as the fucked-up slut. But Weston, he saw more than that. He wasn’t there for me to get something in return. He was there for me because he cared.
I tossed clothes into my bag hurriedly, pulled my jeans back up and buckled them before throwing a sweatshirt over my head and pulling up the hood. I flung the bag over my shoulder and slowly opened my bedroom door. The room was quiet and empty. I didn’t know where my dad or Marlon went, but I wasn’t going to wait around to find out.
I scurried out of my apartment, down the hallway, pushed open the emergency exit doors and sprinted down the stairs. We’d lived in the complex for thirteen years, and I’d been sneaking out since I was fourteen. I knew the place like the back of my hand.
I hit the bottom floor, my breathing labored, and dashed out into the back alley.
I looked around from side to side. Fuck, Weston wasn’t there yet. I sunk against the building, hiding in the shadows next to a dumpster so I could be invisible. He’d be looking for me. I tapped my foot against the pavement while I waited for whoever would find me first. I froze when I heard the creaky door swing open and footsteps approach me. I swallowed hard in terror. Weston was too late.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ELISE
My knees buckled as the footsteps grew closer. My heart paced harder and harder as I scurried farther behind the dumpster. He wouldn’t look behind it, right? He wouldn’t think I’d resulted to hiding behind something so disgusting. I shrieked when a man’s boots came into view and his head popped up in front of me.
“Just lettin’ you know, there ain’t any good shit in there,” he said, tossing a trash bag into the dumpster. “But’s it’s all yours.” I ignored him and he smacked the dumpster lid a few times before turning around and leaving.
I looked to the side when I noticed bright lights heading down the alley. I blinked a few times, trying to make out the car, and jumped out into the alleyway. I rushed over to it, swung open the door and hopped in quickly.
“Go!” I shrieked. “Just go!” I slammed the door shut. His hands were on the steering wheel and he looked over at me in concern. I smacked the glove compartment in frustration. “Gun it, goddamnit!”
He geared the car in drive, kicked down on the gas and we shot forward. I buckled my seatbelt while he picked up speed and turned onto the street. I threw my bag in the backseat and took a deep, relaxing breath that did anything but relax me. My blood was still boiling, my pulse still sky high, and my emotions on the brink of losing it. My head fell sideway against the chilly window while I prayed for God to erase the night’s events out of my mind.
A few miles passed before he silenced the radio. “Where to?” He asked.
“Anywhere but there,” I answered, my breath forming a circle against the glass. I didn’t care where he took me as long as it wasn’t home. I was never going back there.
He nodded his head, and I didn’t question where we were going. I just shut my eyes and stayed silent with the exception of the sobs tearing through my body. I drug my head away from the window when he pulled into the parking garage and then slowly cut the engine.
“Is this okay?” He asked, looking over at me and unbuckling his seatbelt. I nodded. It was more than okay. He leaned into the backseat, grabbed my bag and got out of the car. I slowly pulled myself up to find him standing there and waiting for me. His shoulders slumped down when he saw me in the light.
“Not again,” he said, dragging his hands through his hair. “Mother fucker!” His tennis shoes slammed against the cement, his mouth biting into his fist.
I hadn’t looked in the mirror in my race to get out of there, but I knew I had a few battle wounds from my fight. I was beat-up again, stranded again, and still fighting the tears back when he took my hand in his. He slowly walked me up the stairwell and up to his apartment. I knew eventually he’d grow tired of playing the savior and quit answering my phone calls.
“I’m going to grab something for your face,” he said, turning on the lights when we reached his apartment. “Get comfortable on the couch.” I slipped off my shoes and followed his instructions while he went into the kitchen.
“This time, you better tell me what happened,” he said, kneeling down in front of me and sweeping my hood back to get a better look. I winced when the crisp bag of veggies slid across my face and landed on my cheek. He captured the few tears sliding down my cheek with a single finger while he peered up at me and waited.
“He was drunk,” I said, like that should explain it all.
He waited for me to elaborate, but I only sat there and hung my head in shame. I didn’t want him to know. I was embarrassed. It was humiliating that my life and my family were this fucked up. I was ashamed that I hadn’t had the strength in me to fight him off. I’d done nothing. I’d stood there, frozen to the wall, and allowed him to do whatever he wanted. I was a fucking coward.
“Was it your dad?” He asked impatiently. “Is he that one that did this?”
“Yes.” I moved the bag away from my stinging cheek and replaced it with my palm.
“Tell me, please,” he said, his hand squeezing my leg.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
He groaned, moving his hand from my leg up to my chin. “I’m not playing this game again.”
I wish I’d respected myself enough to get away from him a long time ago. “It’s not a game. I just really don’t feel like being judged right now,” I snapped, taking my animosity on the last person who should’ve been getting it. I was lashing out on the person who’d helped me, but I couldn’t help it. I didn’t want to answer his questions. I didn’t want to say those words.
He groaned and threw his head back. “Why do you always say that? You know I’m not judging you. You know I never have. So stop trying to use that as a cop out.”
“Oh, yeah right,” I muttered. “You may act like you don’t, but there’s no way you don’t think what everyone else does. There’s no way you can’t think I’m just this stupid slut who’s asking for this to keep happening to her.”
“I don’t think you’ve deserved anything that’s happened to you, and I certainly don’t fucking think you deserve sitting on my couch beat up for the second goddamned time. It has to stop, but that’s not going to happen if you keep sitting here silent.”
“Not tonight.” I rose up from the couch, moved away from his stooping body and headed into the kitchen. I opened the fridge and snatched a bottle of wine. I needed something to drown me out.
I turned around to grab a glass and shrieked when I bumped into something hard. I glanced up, my chin hitting his chest, and he held out his hand as he peered down at me.
“Fine,” I groaned, handing over the bottle. He plucked it from my hold and tossed it into the trashcan. “That’s wasting perfectly good wine,” I argued, throwing my hand towards the discarded bottle.
“And? I don’t give a shit.”
I turned back to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. “I’m not talking about it tonight, so give it up.” I didn’t have the energy to deal with Dr. Weston at the moment. I wanted the Weston who knew how to shut it and let things go for a minute.
He rocked back on his heels. “I understand. No questions tonight. But there will be tomorrow.” I nodded. I’d find a way to get out of it then, too. “There’s clean sheets on your bed.”
My bed. I wasn’t sure if he caught his words, but I definitely did.
“You can stay here as long as you’d like,” he added.
I knew I couldn’t stay with Weston forever. But he’d give me enough time to come up with a plan. I could get a job and save up for my own place.
I stared at his chest muscles showing through the thin, white t-shirt covering his chest while he rested his back against the counter. “Is there anything you need?” He asked.
I shook my head and played with the bottle in my hand. “I’m good.” I was still in shock, but I was away from him, so I was starting to feel better.
He flipped off the light when we left the kitchen. “Let me know if you do,” he said, walking through the rest of the place and turning off more lights.
“Do you,” I hesitated, unsure if I actually had the guts to ask. “Do you think I can sleep in your bed tonight?” I asked, nervously, unable to meet his eyes.
His hand stopped on the last light switch and he looked at me from across the dim-lit room. “That’s not a good idea.”
“I understand.” He’d help me, but it wouldn’t go any farther than that.
“That bed is pretty comfy. You’ll fall asleep as soon as you hit the sheets,” he said, attempting to make me feel better at his rejection.
I nodded and walked passed him to the bedroom.
He grabbed my hand in his, flipped off the light and led me into the room. “Sleep tight,” he whispered, giving my hand a squeeze before releasing it and shutting the door.
I slipped out of my clothes, leaving just a tank top and my panties on, and climbed into bed.
The tears started as soon as I turned the lamp off. I wandered what my dad was thinking. I wondered what he was doing. Was he feeling guilty for what he’d done? Was he planning on getting me back for leaving?
“Fuck him,” I whispered into my tear soaked pillowcase.
I cried. I cried for what seemed like hours. I had a good, long, and overdue cry.
I jumped when my door opened and a dark figure stalked towards the bed. I shrieked as their arms wrapped around my body and pulled me out of bed. I tried to fight them off.
“Shhhh,” the gentle voice said in my ear. “It’s just me.”
My body settled and my head fell into the crook of his shoulder while I allowed him to carry me to his bedroom. He laid me down gently and pulled the covers over me.
“To hell with good ideas,” he growled, snuggling up behind me. His lips kissed my ear and I relaxed in his warm arms while the beat of his heart soothed me to sleep.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
ELISE
Goosebumps collided against my shivering skin and I pulled the blanket up until it smacked into my chin. I sprawled my legs across the crisp sheets and looked around.
I was in his bedroom.
I was in his bed.
I was in my hot-as-hell and completely off limits shrink’s bed. I couldn’t stop myself from getting into these bizarre situations. My life kept getting weirder and weirder.
I blew out a breath and stared up at the ceiling. Warmth replaced the goosebumps when I realized how comfortable I was laying there. I felt like his bed is where I belonged.
I lifted up to look around the room more. It was large and the king size bed took up the majority of the space. A big-screen TV hung directly across from me and over a dresser covered with framed photos and bottles of cologne.
My mind began to run on full speed as I slouched back down. I wasn’t sure what time it was or how long I’d been sleeping. All I cared about was the fear now pulsating against my veins as I wondered what was in store for me. He’d find me. I had no doubt. He’d be out scouring the streets until he had me back. My dad would kill me or anyone else before he’d let me out of his grasp.
So my new goal was to disappear. I had some cash in my bag, and I was sure Weston would help me. I needed to start a new life, get a new identity, one where I wouldn’t be sold out for business deals. I wanted freedom. I was in the driver’s seat now. I was the one in control; at least that’s what I wanted to think.
I scrubbed at my arm and felt the tenderness from his strong grip last night. I wanted to erase his touch. I wanted to trick my mind to forgetting last night, but every time I told them to go to hell they came back more vividly, like my mind was against me. I tried to convince myself he would’ve stopped, but I knew better. The look on his face told me there was no stopping him.
He’d wanted to hurt me. He’d wanted to transfer the pain eating at him to me. That’s what he’d been doing my entire life. He hungered to scar me the same way she’d scarred him. He was taking his resentment for her out on me because I was her living shadow. I’d always be a memory of what he’d lost and what she’d put him through.
The bed sunk down when I slammed my arms down to my sides. “I fucking hate him!” I screeched. “I fucking hate him!” I knotted my fists together into tiny balls and swung them back onto the bed. My anger over took me and I grabbed the first thing I could get my hands on. The pillow hurled across the room and smacked into the wall. I shook my head, screaming at the ceiling as my lungs fired up and kicked my feet.
He was destroying me. No, he’d already destroyed me, but he still wasn’t done. He wanted to massacre me. He wanted to crush me into small, helpless pieces and laugh in my face. He wanted to drain every last drop of sanity and fight I had left. He was going to eradicate me until he felt vindicated.
I kicked my legs, darkness flooding my eyesight, and knotted my hands into the sheets. I was being tormented by my own mind. Visions of my life began to swirl through me and put my struggles on full display. The men, the ones who’d raped me were so clear. My father’s vicious words swept through next, the abuse, and his indecent embraces. I was done crying. I was finished fighting. I wanted it all to go away.
“Calm down,” a tranquil voice whispered into my ear. “You have to calm down for me.”
My feet stopped and my entire body went slack. I rested my head onto the pillow and slowly opened an eye one at a time. I struggled to speak while I eyed him above me. He’d heard me. Shit, I wouldn’t have been surprised if his neighbors had heard me.
His hand cautiously reached out. He waited for my reaction before touching me and caressing my forehead. “No one is going to hurt you anymore, okay? I’m here. I will protect you.”
My breathing shuddered, coming out in tiny pants, while my body came down from its rage. His voice and touch had instantly soothed me, evaporating the darkness.
“Good morning,” he said, his fingers brushing circles across my skin. He bent his head down to my ear. “I made eggs. They’re organic.”
I gave him a weird look. “Organic? Really? Is that your plan for breaking the awkwardness?”
He grinned wide. “Yes ma’am. Food always makes problems go away. And the fact that they’re not full of hormones and chemicals makes it even better.”
“Always the responsible one,” I muttered. “I’m not sure how we went from me having a nervous break down to eggs, but I’ll take it.”
“Well, I figured you’d want a belly full before I began my interrogation.”
I pulled away from him to lift myself up on my knees, and pushed my hair back with my fingers. “Seriously? I’m surprised you’re not kicking me out of your place for the scene I just made.”
He shrugged. “I’d be more concerned if you didn’t let it all out.”
“What?” I shrieked. “You think that’s normal?”
“For someone with that much hurt and animosity built up, yes. That’s exactly what you needed. It’s good to have a freak out sometimes.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.” He held out his hand. “Now let’s eat.”
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