Undo Me (The Good Ol' Boys #3)

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Undo Me (The Good Ol' Boys #3) Page 24

by M. Robinson


  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

  “No, Aubrey, I think you did.” With that she turned and left.

  I took a deep breath as remorse and shame washed over me. I spun around to walk back into my bedroom and before I could take my first step, Jeremy backhanded me across the face so fucking hard I fell to the ground.

  “You, stupid bitch!” he roared, hovering above me as I clutched my cheek.

  I wish I could tell you that Jeremy wined and dined me, that he made me fall in love with him and his charming personality. That I didn’t know he was a monster. That he tricked me, made me believe he was something that he wasn’t before he showed me his true colors.

  He didn’t do any of those things.

  I knew what I was getting myself into. I knew what kind of person he was, and what kind of demons were sitting on his shoulders. Waiting for me.

  I knew it all.

  From our first talk to our first date to the first time he ever laid his hands on me. I knew what he was capable of, and I wanted it. I looked for it.

  Those moments when his fists did the talking or his mouth was spewing degrading and hateful words were the only times that the hurt I felt in my heart.

  The ache that lived in my soul.

  The anguish that consumed my body and mind.

  Every. Single. Day.

  Was numb for a few precious minutes.

  I relished the feeling of the pain that he inflicted, even if it was just for a few minutes. It took away the memories of the person that I had become.

  “Fucking look at me!”

  I did.

  “You don’t defend me to your stupid fucking friend? What kind of a girlfriend are you? A piece of shit one! You’re good for nothing but that pussy between your goddamn legs.”

  He kicked me in my stomach and I recoiled in pain, gagging hysterically.

  “Get the fuck up, you weak pathetic excuse of a girlfriend!”

  I gasped for air, seizing onto my stomach.

  “GET THE FUCK UP, AUBREY! You do not want me doing it for you!”

  I sat up on my hands and knees, breathing through the pain.

  “Aubrey, I’m not going to tell you again,” he warned through gritted teeth.

  I hissed through my discomfort, standing hunched over. Blinking through the white spots in my vision as he crudely gripped my chin.

  “Dylan is better than me, huh? He’s still waiting for you, isn’t he?”

  Silence.

  “Answer. Me.”

  “No,” I simply stated.

  “Tell me you love me.”

  “I love you,” I whispered with a lack of emotion in my voice.

  “Tell me you know you’re a worthless piece of shit. Tell me that I’m better than him, that I’m better than your Dylan, and you’re lucky to have me.”

  I could take the hitting, the physical abuse. It was mild compared to the verbal assault his words inflicted inside me. Like a knife carving my already wounded body. The sting much more intense than anything his hands could ever do to me.

  “Look me in the eyes and say it like you fucking mean it. If you don’t, I’ll hurt you until you make me believe that you do.”

  I swallowed hard, clenching my ribs where he just hit me so that it would numb the words that were about to come out of my mouth. Each lie that would fall from my lips.

  I peered deep into his eyes and murmured, “I’m a worthless piece of shit.”

  His eyes dilated, I could see the high my words were giving him and I hesitated for a few seconds.

  “You’re better than him and I’m lucky to have you.”

  “Better than who, Aubrey? Who am I better than?”

  I pressed my ribs harder, wincing through the pain that I wish were from my ribs.

  “You’re better than Dylan,” I stated, holding back the tears and my voice from breaking.

  He snidely smiled. “Who loves you, baby?”

  “You.”

  He let go of my chin and tapped on his cheek like he always did after he hit me. I kissed it.

  “You know I love you, don’t you, baby?”

  I nodded.

  “Tell me you know.”

  “I know you love me.”

  “Only me, baby, only me.”

  He pulled me into his arms, wrapping them around me.

  “I do this for you. I am what you deserve.”

  If only he knew how true his words were.

  “I’m coming! Hold on!” I yelled out, wrapping a towel around my waist. I opened my front door to find my mom standing there.

  I smiled. “Hello.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Dylan, I have been calling you all morning.”

  I nodded, stepping aside to let her in.

  “And I’ve been ignoring it all morning, but at least you knocked this time, much better than last time.”

  She shook her head. “Well, I think catching my son having sex once is enough for a lifetime for any mother.”

  I laughed, bracing myself up against the front door and folding my arms. “Oh come on, Mom, it hasn’t just been one time,” I joked.

  “Don’t remind me, Dylan,” she stated in an exaggerated breath.

  “Awww, Mom, you’ve seen me naked before. Don’t blush,” I teased.

  “It’s not about your wiener, darling, I used to change your diapers, and I’m fully aware of what it looks like. It’s the fact that I saw it in some girl’s mouth that caught me off guard.”

  I smiled high and raised my eyebrows, amused. “My wiener?” I repeated while laughing. “Only you refer to it as a wiener, Mom, and besides she was a nice girl, she swallowed.”

  Her face frowned as she put her hands up in the air in a stopping motion. “Enough, Dylan, don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. You’re trying to distract me from the reason I’m here. I don’t want to hear any excuses. You’re going.”

  “I have plans,” I answered not needing to know the question.

  “Cancel them.”

  I pushed off the door and walked toward my kitchen with her right behind me. “I’m not arguing with you today, Mom.”

  “Good, seeing as I have no intention of arguing. You’re going,” she ordered again.

  I grabbed two bottles of water from my fridge and handed her one. “I’m not a kid, you can’t order me around anymore.”

  She scuffed. “Right, because you listened so well when you were a child, huh?”

  I twisted the cap and took a sip, placing it on the counter to face her. “I’m not going. There is no reason for me to be there.”

  She pulled out the barstool and sat on it. “Yes, there is,” she replied, already prepared for every rebuttal I was about to throw at her.

  “What?” I questioned, genuinely curious about her response.

  “It’s important to Lucas’ mom. You know the woman who’s like a second mother to you.”

  “Oh, well, thank you for that guilt trip. Mission accomplished. I’ll meet you there,” I sarcastically stated.

  “Dylan, do not take that tone with me.”

  I gripped the back of my neck, annoyed.

  “You need a haircut. How about I schedule one for you? Darling, don’t you want to cut your hair? It’s too long. Only girls have their hair that long, honey, you don’t want to look like a girl, do you?”

  “It’s never been an issue for me. I don’t have a problem getting pussy, Mom, if that’s your concern.”

  “Dylan!” She stepped toward me.

  I put my hands out in front of me, surrendering. “What? You started it.”

  She placed her hand on her forehead and took a deep breath. “Oh my God, you’re giving me a headache. Your hair is past your shoulders and have you never heard of a razor? Your face, you’re covering your handsome face with nothing but facial hair.”

  “Again, it’s never been a—”

  “Enough. I do not want to hear about your bed hopping ways. I know you’re on the police bureau and abo
ut to be promoted to Detective here in Oak Island,” she beamed even though she was trying to reprimand me.

  “Only after working on the force for three years since you graduated from college,” she added with nothing but pride laced in her tone, stepping toward me again like she was going to hug me, but at the last second she smacked me upside the head. “By the way I don’t care if you’re twenty-six years old or fifty years old. You do not talk to me like I am one of your boys or colleagues. I raised you better than that, Dylan Anthony McGraw, do you hear me?”

  I rubbed at my head where she just hit me. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I know, honey. I know Aubrey is going to be there with her boyfriend. I know it’s been years since you have seen her. I know you still—”

  I sighed and we locked eyes. She knew I hated that she was bringing this up again, knowing I wouldn’t discuss it with her.

  I wouldn’t discuss it with anyone.

  She lovingly smiled, reading my mind. “This is not why I’m here. It would mean a lot to Lucas’ mom if you were there for her Christmas Eve party. She wants everyone together. We don’t know what’s going to happen, Dylan. She’s getting worse, and I know you see it. This might be her last…” she stopped, unable to finish her sentence.

  “I know, Mom. I’ll be there.”

  She stood and walked over to me. “Thank you, honey. Everything is going to be okay. You’ll see.”

  I silently prayed she was right.

  I sat at my vanity, peering at the woman in the mirror.

  “I love you,” I whispered, barely being able to hear it over the melody coming from my jewelry box. The one that Dylan had left for me in my mom’s car all those years ago.

  Holding on to the only thing I had left of him.

  Of us.

  Her eyelashes were long and covered in mascara.

  Her eyelids were coated in grey eye shadow with thick black eyeliner.

  Every inch of her face was coated with concealer, foundation, and powder. Blush creeping along her cheekbones.

  Her mouth was bright red.

  Her blonde, silky hair laid on the right side of her face, a bow shaped clip placed strategically in her hair that matched her lips.

  Her red silk blouse and black pencil skirt hugged the curves of her body. She finished the disguise off with black sky-high heels.

  She looked so flawless, so beautiful, so put together and perfect, exactly the way he wanted. Not a hair or stitch of make up out of place.

  No one would think that this woman was broken. No one would know that bruises covered her face and body. No one would know that she spent hours fabricating her impeccable appearance so that people would think she was happy.

  She was loved and cared for.

  My family and friends wouldn’t know the truth that lied under the façade. Not even the man that put all these marks on her could tell.

  “I love you,” I repeated, desperately wanting to believe it but knowing I never would.

  Taking one last look at the woman staring back at me through the mirror and then I let my eyes travel to the necklace around my neck. My fingers touched the silver heart that lay on my chest and traced the words. Always. Promise.

  It took years for me to open the jewelry box that Dylan gave me. The first time Jeremy hit me I didn’t cry, I didn’t weep, I didn’t even make a sound. I went home that night and grabbed the jewelry box that I kept hidden in the back of my closet where I locked away my truths. I placed it on my vanity, looking into the mirror at the sharp bruise on my cheek still not feeling anything.

  With trembling fingers I opened the box. Music and a delicate ballerina dressed in a white tutu was sitting in the fourth position, came to life. It was then that I realized there was a piece of jewelry hidden in it.

  It was only then…

  That I cried my heart out.

  We were all at Lucas’ mom’s Christmas Eve party. The good ol’ boys were all back together again, with the exception of Austin. He took off after their visit from spring break. Alex told me they all got postcards from him every so often, but no one knew where he was or what he was up to.

  They all worried nonetheless.

  I watched from afar as a random girl I didn’t recognize flirted with Dylan. She wasn’t even trying to hide it. She was all over him and of course, McGraw was enjoying her advances. Not batting an eye that I was in the same room. He’d never pass up an opportunity to get his dick wet, and I’m sure it was much worse now that he was somewhat of a hometown hero.

  This was supposed to be a family function. It was the only reason I came. Alex pressured me into it, saying Lucas’ mom was getting worse by the day and this may be her last Christmas. She told me that being there would mean the world to her. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t completely caught off guard by how sick she looked. I hadn’t seen her in years. She looked nothing like the strong woman she was when we were in high school. It broke my heart seeing her in that state of health. I immediately felt bad for Lucas and Lily for what was obviously going to happen.

  It was only a matter of time.

  Dylan and I stayed on opposite ends of the room the entire night, though it didn’t matter, I could sense him anywhere.

  It wasn’t just that night.

  It was all the time.

  We didn’t get close to each other the whole evening, but that didn’t stop me from watching him work his magic on the girl who was coming onto him so damn hard. Dylan didn’t look my way once. He never acknowledged my presence. I silently hoped that it was because of Jeremy. He wouldn’t leave my side, playing the part of the perfect, doting boyfriend. He refined that act in the last three years. We lived together in California, and for an outsider looking in I had the picture-perfect life. My boyfriend took care of me and I didn’t have to work. I was a kept woman and he provided for me in every sense of the word.

  Some may say he spoiled me.

  Except when he would come home at night or after days of being away dealing with his father, I was the one who took the brunt of his violence. I was the one who paid the price for the unhappy life that he led. I was to blame for the sacrifices he had to make, so he could give us the ideal lifestyle he was trying to provide for us.

  For me.

  I knew Dylan had moved back to Oak Island after his graduation from Ohio State, Alex offered the information in passing. His whole life was there. I wasn’t one bit surprised when he joined the police force and was working his way up rather quickly. It was who he was.

  Always so damn determined.

  Deep down I knew his choice of career was partially because he couldn’t save me all those years ago. Maybe it gave him peace of mind that he could save someone else.

  Jeremy excused himself, saying he needed to take a phone call. Whenever he did that, he always took a while to return. It could have been his father or the random women that he slept with when I wasn’t around. I found a pair of panties after one of his business trips when I was doing his laundry. Which was my job, I took care of him and the household. Always having to please him, waiting on him hand and foot. If I didn’t do it the way he expected, the way that was good for me, he’d make me pay.

  Lessons learned he called it.

  I waited up for him that night with the panties lying firmly on my lap. He took one look at me, grabbed the panties and said, “Thank you, baby, she was looking for those.” That was the end of the conversation that never even started. He backhanded me across the face the next morning, reprimanding me for being so fucking nosey.

  When Dylan walked towards the garage, my feet moved on their own accord as if an invisible string was pulling me. Before I knew it I was closing the door behind me, the sound making him turn to face me and actually look at me. We hadn’t been face to face in four years. I missed his eyes on me.

  The boy I once knew was gone, but the man that I was still in love with was very much there, standing in front of me looking as handsome as ever. His hair pulled up high in a man-bun,
his build broader, wider, more defined, making me long to have him hold me. To touch me. Wrap me in his arms and never let me go again. More than anything, I wanted him to take my hand and press it against his heart and whisper to me to feel him.

  I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but I didn’t know where to start. There was so much to say, so many explanations and apologies to be made but not nearly enough time to do so. By the look on his face he felt the same way, or maybe it was just my wishful thinking. I hoped for the latter.

  I was frozen in front of him, picturing what life could have been.

  The years of memories, mistakes, and regrets came rushing over me. Piling on top of me, their weight suffocating me.

  The first time I met him.

  Our first talk on the beach.

  Our first date.

  Our first kiss.

  The first time he told me he loved me.

  The first time we made love and every time after that.

  Our love…

  That was taken away so harshly, so violently, so unfairly.

  My eyes filled with tears, my lips trembled, and whatever little piece of my soul that had mended over the years, now just crumbled around me. My heart started to race at the memory of that day, the day that ended our future.

  I let go of the door handle and walked toward him, he watched every step as if his whole world was making its way back to him again. I couldn’t take it anymore. The overwhelming desire was almost unbearable. I don’t know what came over me, as soon as I got to him, I didn’t think twice about it.

  I placed my hand over his heart.

  The stable, steady heart that remained beating just for me, as if no time had passed between us. We stood there for I don’t know how long, both of us lost in our own thoughts, consumed by our own desires. With an intense stare he extended his hand, I thought he would place his hand over my heart, replicating my action.

  He didn’t.

  Instead his hand traveled upwards and his thumb gently rubbed back and forth on my cheekbone, and I flinched when he started wiping off my makeup, a move so unexpected it threw me off my axis. I immediately shut my eyes scared of the ramifications of his action, of what he was about to see.

  My truths.

 

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