by Taylor Wade
“I want you,” I whispered, surprising myself.
Wes’s eyes darkened in lust and he opened his mouth to speak but the moment was interrupted by male laughter floating into the house.
“Fuck.” Wes muttered, throwing his head back against his pillow.
“Who is that?” I asked, recognizing Reese’s laugh but unable to identify the second, muffle chuckle.
“One of Reese’s prison buddies just got out and Reese told him he could stay here for a couple of nights to celebrate. Fucker didn’t even ask me.” Wes said, rubbing his hand over his face.
He looked down at me and noticed my wide-eyed expression, “Let’s get out of here. I don’t want you around that shit.”
“Why don’t you just tell him to go if you don’t want him here?” I questioned him.
Wes sighed, and got up from the bed, grabbing my bra and tank top and handing them to me. He slipped on a t-shirt while I redressed.
“Reese said the guy had his back a lot when some of the other guys tried to pick a fight. I feel like I kind of owe him for looking after my brother,” he explained, and I nodded, understanding.
“What’d he do to go to prison?” I asked, nervous for the answer. For all I knew there was a serial killer in the living room.
Wes shrugged, “I didn’t ask. Reese just said that the guy did some fucked up shit but he was good to him, so I didn’t ask anymore. I guess he was supposed to be locked up for another few months or so but got sprung early for good behavior. So I guess he can’t be too bad.”
I shrugged as Wes packed some clothes into a duffle bag, and grabbed his toothbrush and a few other items.
“Going somewhere?” I teased.
“As a matter of fact, I am,” Wes smiled, and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me towards him for a kiss. “I’m spending the night at my girlfriend’s place.”
“Lucky girl,” I smiled, taking his hand as we headed out of his bedroom. I walked in front of him and grabbed my purse from the counter, waving a greeting to Reese who was sitting on the sofa with a beer. I grabbed my phone from the counter as I heard the bathroom door open and heavy footsteps walk out. I knew it was Reese’s friend and I couldn’t contain my curiosity. I turned and locked eyes with a pair of dark brown eyes, so dark that they were almost black. His skin was light, his head shaved, and he wore a white tank top, showing off his thick biceps and narrow waist. Unlike Wes and Reese, his chest and arms were bare of tattoos, but he had two fake diamond studs in each of his earlobes.
I stepped back, and my back slammed into Wes’s chest, his arm coming around my middle, possessively. Every muscle in my body froze and my vision blurred. I was paralyzed by a fear that I had only ever felt once before in my life. A fear that only worsened when the almost-black eyes widened in surprise before narrowing at me, and a wide grin appeared on his face.
I felt a tear slip down my cheek as I whispered, “Jesse.”
SEVENTEEN
“Brookelyn? What’s wrong, baby?” Wes asked, turning me towards him. I could see that he was searching my face but I couldn’t take my eyes off of Jesse.
More tears flowed from my eyes when he spoke. His voice sent a shudder of fear throughout my body.
“Why are you crying, Brookey Baby? You think I’m gonna hurt you or something’?” Jesse said, laughing at his own sick joke.
“Brookey baby…” Reese was standing in between us, confused by Jesse’s nickname. I could see the wheels turning in his mind and then understanding flash through his eyes. Understanding was soon replaced with shock, anger, and fear. Jesse must have told him why he was in prison, and used my name when he told it, for Reese to catch on so quickly.
“Oh, FUCK, no,” Reese spat, and gave his brother a look. “Get her out of here Wes!”
A silent conversation took place between Wes and Reese, and Wes understood the urgency of the situation. I was still unable to move, a sob racking through my body as I continued to stare into the eyes that I saw every single night in my worst nightmares.
I was vaguely aware of Wes picking me up, cradling me to his body as he walked us out of the apartment and placed me into his truck. I could hear shouting from inside of the apartment but I couldn’t make out what was being said.
Wes furiously wiped the tears away from my face and I could see that his own eyes were filled with worry. The only words that I could manage through my sobs were to tell Wes to get me out of there. He looked unsure for a moment but quickly pulled himself together and got into the truck, speeding out of the driveway and over to my apartment.
When we got there, Wes pulled me back into his arms and carried me inside, managing to grab my keys and unlock the door as I lied motionless against his body. He didn’t put me down until we were inside of my bedroom, and he gently placed me on my bed where I curled into a ball and let myself go, crying hysterically.
Wes came around to the other side of the bed and pulled me into his arms, holding me closely while my body shook, draining my eyes of every possible tear.
We stayed like that for a while, my sobs finally subsiding. Wes kept his head pressed against the top of mine, while gently placing kisses on my forehead and running his hands through my hair soothingly.
“Please tell me what just happened, Brookelyn,” Wes pleaded softly, moving his head back and tilting my chin up with his thumb and pointer fingers so that I was looking up at him.
“I—I can’t,” I hiccupped, new tears forming in my eyes.
“Brookelyn,” Wes shushed me softly, rocking me in his arms like a toddler. “Please...I’m about to call Elle. You’re scaring me.”
“No!” I shouted, but quickly calmed myself and sighed, “Don’t call Elle.”
I didn’t need Elle finding out about this right now. I don’t know what she’d do but I did know that I needed time to process everything that had just happened.
“I won’t. But you need to tell me what the fuck just happened back there.” His words were pained and I felt horrible for hurting him. I knew I had to tell him the truth and stop avoiding it.
I took a deep breath, keeping my face buried against Wes’s chest, not wanting to see the look on his face, “That was Jesse…my ex-boyfriend.”
I heard his sharp inhale, “What do you mean, Brooke?”
Keeping my gaze away from his, I forced myself to think back to that day and remember every detail, repeating every word aloud, praying to God that it didn’t make Wes leave me. Taking a long, deep breath, I started from the very beginning.
“I met Jesse the first week of school last year, at my old school. I was a freshman and he was a senior, but we were in the same Art History class. He was sweet and he thought I was beautiful,” I whispered, “and one day after class, he asked me out on a date. I was so excited. He took me to a nice restaurant and then we went to an arcade and he kept playing this one game until he finally won enough tickets to buy me the stuffed giraffe that I had thought was cute. After that we started spending a lot of time together. I’d bring my roommate, Skyler, with me over to the house that he had shared with a couple of his friends, and we’d all hang out.
One day I had gone over to his house to meet him and I walked in without knocking, like I always had, and I saw him doing lines of cocaine off of the coffee table. I was shocked. I had never even seen him get more than a little drunk, never mind do any drugs. I started crying and tried to leave, but he grabbed me and apologized and told me he’s never done it before and he promised never to do it again. I told him I wouldn’t have a drug user for a boyfriend and left letting him know I didn’t want to see him until he was sober.
We talked the next day and he promised me he would never touch that stuff ever again. At this point we’d been together for about three months and I thought that I had loved him. And I thought that if I loved him, I couldn’t just walk away because he made one mistake. Well, over the next few weeks Jesse started acting differently. At the time I had just told myself that it was from the stress of mid
terms. He would yell at me over nothing, accuse me of talking to other guys, and of not loving him. I just swore to him that it wasn’t true, and he’d eventually forget about it and apologize for yelling at me, telling me that he just loved me so much that he was scared that I would leave him. He was always possessive about our relationship but it had started out as cute. You know, joke warnings to other guys if they looked at me, or he’d always keep his arm around me when we were in a large group, silently reminding everyone that I was his. But it had started to become more serious. I couldn’t see him much one week because of midterms, and I had already been doing badly in my classes from spending so much time with him instead of doing work. So, I had to ace my tests in order to keep my scholarships. Well, he flipped out and accused me of cheating on him behind his back. He had followed me one afternoon when I left my dorm and met up with this kid Pete from my political science class so that we could finish up the project we were assigned rather than having a written assessment. He told me he had seen me meet up with Pete and he knew I was lying to him. He refused to believe that I was really working on a project.”
Wes was watching me intently, absorbing my every word. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking because he kept his face void of emotion. The only indication that he was even listening to me was an occasional nod or raise of his eyebrows.
“I didn’t see him for a week during thanksgiving break and we didn’t speak much while we were away from each other. I had made the decision to break up with him when we got back to campus, but then when we returned to school, he was acting like his normal self again. I didn’t break up with him. Everything went back to normal, and he never accused me of cheating on him or not loving him again. He was gentle and loving, and he’d take me back to the arcade we went to on our first date and see if he could win me one of those stuffed giraffes every time. Everything was perfect.”
I took a deep breath and a sob escaped me as I formed my next sentences. Wes’s hand moved in soothing circles across my back, and he held me tighter against him.
“A couple of days before we left for Christmas break Jesse had made plans to take me out on some romantic date since I wouldn’t likely see him again until mid January. I spent hours getting all dressed up. I had went out and bought a new dress and shoes. The dress was a pale pink color and it had a fitted bodice with an empire waist. There was a cutout in the back and I thought it made me took more grown up and sexy. I even let Skyler do my hair. She pulled it into a high ponytail and curled it. I remember feeling more beautiful than I ever had before,” my voice became shaky and I had to take another minute to collect myself. Wes was patient, allowing me the time that I needed.
“I drove over to his house to meet him, and once again, walked in without knocking. No one was around which I remember thinking was weird. With five guys living together there was usually always someone lingering in the shadows. I got over to Jesse’s room, and he had his back to me.”
It was like I was transported back into that moment. I was no longer in Wes’s arms as he soothed me; I was back in Jesse’s room. I could feel the air conditioner blasting onto my skin, making me shiver, and the smell of sweat and cologne throughout the house. I could see the empty walls of Jesse’s room and the white powder spilled out across his dresser, a razor and a rolled up one-dollar bill beside it. I felt that same dread wash over me at the sight, just as I had that day, and the tears start to form as I felt like a fool. I remember thinking that he might love me, but not as much as he loved the drugs.
“Hey you,” I had said playfully to his back as I strolled through the entrance of his bedroom.
I took a seat on the edge of his bed, noticing that he was only wearing a pair of jeans. I had frowned, hoping it wouldn’t take him long to get ready so we could begin our date.
He turned towards me, then, breaking through my thoughts. He had that all too familiar glassy look in his eyes. It was a look I could finally admit to myself wasn’t caused by stress of studying, but rather the influence of drugs.
There was a cold, harsh look behind his slightly red, dilated pupils and I shivered again, except this time it wasn’t from the cold air in the room.
“I can’t do this Jesse. You said you’d stop,” I sighed, fighting back tears, and got up from his bed. He reached out and grabbed me by my bicep, wrapping his fingers around me tightly before I could make it to the door.
“Ouch, Jesse let me go,” I cried, wiggling my arm against his hold, which only tightened through my resistance. “You’re hurting me!”
“You think you’re gonna just leave me?” He said in a low, haunted voice, bringing his face inches from mine.
I swallowed, starting to realize the danger I was in.
“ANSWER ME!” Jesse roared, his face still so close to mine that I flinched and whimpered, unable to control my tears any longer.
“You said you’d stop,” I whispered through my tears.
He pushed me away from him roughly, and I slammed back into the wall. My head hit the side of the doorframe and a sharp pain shot through my skull. Jesse walked over to the door and slammed it shut, locking it behind him.
“Who is it?” He asked me, the only emotion in his voice that of hatred. “Who is the prick you’re leaving me for?”
“No one!” I pleaded, and the reality of the situation set in. I looked around through my blurred vision and realized that there was no way for me to escape him. I was trapped.
“Don’t fuckin’ LIE TO ME BROOKELYN!!!” The veins in his neck were pulsing through his anger, and his already dark eyes were black as his revulsion towards me bore into me. His fists were clenched and he took a few long strides until he was toe to toe with me, bring his face close to mine once again. He slammed his fist against the wall, millimeter from my face, and I heard the crumple of sheetrock.
“You think you’re so much better than me, don’t you?” He asked, and let out a single, harsh laugh. He looked me up and down in disgust. He reached up and grabbed the fabric of my dress with both fists, and ripped the material down the front. I cried out as the material fell from my body and I was left standing in a pink thong and a flesh colored strapless bra. I had never felt so naked.
“You think you can just put on a fancy dress and that makes you above me?!” He snarled, throwing my destroyed dress to the floor. “You’re not fooling anyone, you know. Everyone knows that you’re nothing more than a cheap whore.”
Jesse raised his hand and I cried out again as the sting from his palm spread across my cheek. I let out a sob that resembled a scream.
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Jesse screamed, pulling me from the wall by my ponytail, and pushing me roughly onto the ground. My foot slipped on the silky fabric of my discarded dress and I lost my balance further. My head crashed against the side of his dresser and I couldn’t stop myself from screaming out in pain. I brought my fingers to my head and felt a warm liquid at the crown of my scalp. I brought my fingers in front of me and saw the blood on them.
“No one can save you, Brookey Baby. No one’s here.” He laughed, enjoying his cruelty. “Everyone’s at the game, remember?”
I had forgotten about the basketball game tonight. Everyone from school was going because we were playing our rivals. I didn’t care for sports, so Jesse decided to take me out tonight instead.
With one swift kick to my ribs, I felt something crack, and I no longer cared if I screamed. The pain was too much.
He looked down at where I lied, crouched in the corner in a fetal position. He leveled me with a glare full of so much hatred that I whimpered, afraid of what might come next.
“You stupid bitch.” He inched closer to me and I tried to make myself as small as possible wishing that I could just disappear. “Get up.”
I whimpered again but my fear kept me frozen in place. I couldn’t have moved if I had wanted to.
“I said, GET UP!!”
The next instant I was being pulled from my place on the ground, a sob breaking through my lips
, as I willed myself not to scream. Screaming only made it worse.
“Brookelyn? Come back to me, baby,” Wes said, softly shaking my head in his hands. My gaze refocused and I looked into his blue eyes filled with worry.
“Sorry,” I murmured to him, feeling bad for placing that look in his eyes. He wiped away the tears that I hadn’t noticed were falling. His jaw was tight, and the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed I could tell that he was having a hard time hearing about what happened.
“I need to finish,” I whispered. “I need you to understand.”