HIM

by J. M. Elliott

  We walk into the room I was in earlier with the glass rectangle table and the gold-accented everything. "Everything" seems to be the best way to describe it. A young girl is already seated at the table; she is blonde and looks a bit like Jerry. She must be Brady's younger sister. Jerry sits at the head of the table. Claire sits next to the young girl, and I sit across from her next to Brady.

  "Hi, I'm Abagail, Brady's little sister," she whispers joyfully across the table.

  I smile and give a light wave.

  "I'm Ali," I whisper back.

  I look down at the plate in front of me. It's a decorative plate with a single spoon lying across it. A thick slice of mozzarella cheese and a thin slice of tomato drizzled in balsamic vinegar topped with a beautiful edible pink flower and basil leaf, lie on the spoon.

  "Our first course this evening is Caprese, and is taken in a single bite," the butler announces.

  I dislike tomatoes, so I hope the cheese, vinegar, and basil drown out the taste and texture. It would be impolite not to eat it, considering the company at hand. I do not care for Brady, and I think he is an obnoxious prick, but I don't want to embarrass and insult him in front of his parents. I place my napkin on my lap and choke the bite down, which is rather delicious.

  The butler announces that we will be enjoying a nine-course meal this evening. Nine courses, where the hell am I going to fit nine courses? I look over at Brady, who is chewing his Caprese.

  My plate is removed, and another one is set down before me. It's a cup of soup, a very fancy looking cup of soup.

  "Our second course this evening is Duck Wild Rice soup," the butler announces.

  Duck, I like ducks, I can certainly handle this one. I scoop up a spoonful of the soup and take a bite. Oh my God, it's divine, the best cup of soup I have ever had. The duck is so tender and compliments the wild rice perfectly. I may like this even more than chicken wild rice soup.

  While we eat, Brady's parents engage in conversation about his life outside of work. They begin distastefully degrading his promiscuous lifestyle and the fact he never has a steady girlfriend. His mother practically tells him he is an embarrassment to the family and that he disgusts her. I honestly cannot believe they choose to have this conversation with him right now, at the dinner table in front of a perfect stranger. I've never before seen Brady cower like a puppy about to get beat and look so helpless. A part of me is enjoying this, but a part of me also feels that it's a bit unfair. I open my mouth and say the first thing that comes to my lips without thinking it through first.

  "Brady is quite a handsome, highly successful man. He cannot help that the ladies cannot keep their hands off him. If they weren't after his checkbook, maybe he'd be settled down by now," I say in his defense.

  Everyone stops eating and looks at me. I may have to eat my words later, but despite mine and Brady’s tension between one another at work, we're still a team, and he's still a person. He doesn't deserve to be treated in such a manner by his family.

  Brady has pure shock displayed all over his face, over the fact I just talked back to his parents in a conversation that I technically wasn't even a part of. His mother gives me a slight glare but seems more ashamed of their choice in conversation. They change the subject and do not revisit Brady's sex life the duration of our incredible dinner.

  The rest of the courses are exquisite. I cannot begin to describe most of what I am eating because I am too intrigued by their display on my plate rather than paying attention to their name. I finish all nine courses since they were small portions. A dining experience I will never forget, that's for sure.

  After dinner, Brady takes me on a tour of the rest of his parent's house. This house has a total of twelve rooms. We end the tour in his bedroom from when he lived with his parents before taking me on the backyard tour. His room is gorgeous, and the mahogany woodwork is impressive. His bedroom at his parents is the size of mine and Ris's two-bedroom apartment. The tapestry is beautiful, and I love all the decor. The mahogany sleigh bed ties the room theme together perfectly. We leave his room, which takes up most of the third floor, to head outside.

  IN THE BACKYARD, THERE IS a lot to look at just like inside. I can spot a decent-sized pool, with a neat waterfall and a hot tub. There is a cute little pool house with an outdoor bar. Flowers, trees, and shrubs make the back yard feel like a park, with a tiny two-story house that sits off the yard tucked in the back corner. Brady says it is where the butler, maids, and other staff stay. We walk over a little bridge that sits over a small pond; coy fish swim around in it. I stop on the bridge, watching the fish. I wonder what they do with them during the winter.

  "The pond is heated during the winter, so it never freezes, and they swim all year happily," Brady says.

  I look at him, wondering if I said something out loud to make him say that just now.

  "It's the first question everyone asks. Thank you for sticking up for me at dinner. You didn't have to, but it meant a lot. I know you don't like my ways, either," he says, looking at me so sincere.

  I've never seen Brady this way, he may act like a hard ass and a huge jerk at work, but deep inside, I think he is possibly a charming softie.

  "You're right, I don't, but I didn't think it was the appropriate time or place to be talking about it," I say.

  He looks at me, and I look back down at the fish; I can feel him staring at me.

  "What, Brady?" I say, looking back over at him.

  "You have beautiful eyes," he says, stepping closer to me.

  I look at him, taken aback by his comment.

  "Thank you!" I reply.

  I turn back to watch the fish and notice out of the corner of my eye that Brady is still looking at me and takes another step closer. I look at him, and he leans toward my face then kisses me. My eyes widen, and I push him away from me.

  "Woah, Brady, what was that?" I say, a little disgusted in his action.

  I am weirded out and feel uncomfortable. We were supposed to have a business dinner and be talking about the Christiansen account, not having a nine-course meal with is parents and engaging in inappropriate actions.

  "Sorry, I just got carried away by the moment and had a few too many glasses of wine," he says arrogantly.

  "Moment? There was no moment," I say rudely.

  "Whatever you say, Ali. You know you want me," he says slyly.

  The nerve of this man. I cannot believe what he's implying; he's unbelievable. I should have known he had an ulterior motive. I bet this was his plan the entire time. To seduce me so I would lose my focus on the Christiansen account, and he could take it out from underneath me. Not a mother fucking chance in hell I will let that happen. I earned this account, and its mine.

  "Excuse you? You asked me to dinner to discuss the Christiansen account, but you end up bringing me here to have dinner with your parents. To what, try to make a move on me like I am one of the girls at work who will eat up your every word and part their legs like the Red Sea. I'm sorry, but you have the wrong girl," I bark.

  I need to get the hell out of here and away from him. I'm irate. The audacity of this motherfucker, trying something on me, is absurd. I should've seen this coming, but I thought truly he wanted to discuss the project. I scurry back toward the house. I believed in him, but I should have trusted my gut instinct. Brady took advantage of my sincerity, and he crossed the line.

  "Ali, wait. I'm sorry. Will you stop for a second, please," he shouts.

  Desperately needing to leave but not knowing where I am to call someone to come pick me up, plus my purse and phone are in the house—I stop and turn around. I cross my arms and wait for Brady to catch up to me. He reaches me, somewhat out of breath.

  "I want to leave," I say firmly.

  I turn away from him to go into the house, but he grabs my arm, and I move it to take his grip off me.

  "Please, don't touch me," I growl.

  He throws his arms up in the air.

  "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kissed you," h
e says.

  I look at him with a "no shit" stare. He steps closer to me, reaching his hand up toward my face. I uncross my arms then step away from him.

  "Don't fucking touch me, Brady," I hiss.

  He throws his arms up once again and steps toward me; I back up and end up against the glass of the French doors to the house. I reach for the handle of the door, but he grabs my arms and tries to kiss me again. I move my face away from his. What the fuck is wrong with him? Is he that drunk?

  "Brady, stop!" I shout.

  He grabs hold of both my arms in one of his hands, pushing his entire body against mine, grabbing my face with his other hand. I want to scream, but I cannot get a sound out.

  "Fucking kiss me, then I will let you go," he says between his teeth as he breathes out heavily from holding me against the door.

  Brady has genuinely lost it. Now, I realize why we came here; its private and secluded. He can get away with a lot more here than if we were in a public setting.

  "NO!" I scream through his hand.

  He squeezes my face and tightens his grip around my hands; I break them free and slap him hard across the face. He stays turned to the side, and his nose flares. He clenches his hands in fists and begins to breathe heavy.

  "You're going to wish you never fucking did that," he sneers.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  I reach for the door again, but Brady grabs me by my wrist and throws me to the ground. Hard. I hit the ground, winded. I try to catch my breath, hoping his parents or someone has heard all the commotion. Brady picks me up off the grass and throws me over his shoulder. I frantically kick and scream the few steps he takes to the pool house. He carries me inside then throws me to the floor. I sigh as I hit the floor, then look up at him. He closes the door and locks it as I rise to my feet.

  "Let me out," I demand.

  What's going on with him? Brady has crossed all lines. I do not understand why he is doing this.

  "Not until you kiss me," he snarls.

  He has lost it, and his desperation and perversion have gone too far. He's become a raging monster.

  "Fat fucking chance. Now let me the fuck out!" I scream loud.

  He lunges at me, and I take off running in the tiny pool house, yelling for him to stop. What have I done to deserve this? He catches me and throws me to the ground again, this time on my stomach, then climbs on top of me. I scream, but he covers my mouth.

  "Shut the fuck up!" he growls.

  I try to scream again, but I am unable to. Brady is so strong I can barely move under his weight and tight grip. I bite his hand, and he removes it quickly from my mouth but pushes my head down to the floor.

  "Brady, STOP!' I scream as loud as I can. "What the hell's gotten into you! Why are you doing this?"

  Brady lowers himself onto me, bringing his face down toward mine the removing a piece my hair out of my face. I try to remain calm and control my breathing. I need to regain my strength before I try to get him off me again.

  "What are you trying to do?" I ask as calmly as possible while I try to catch my breath.

  "You'll see," he murmurs through his teeth.

  He reaches under me for the button of my pants. I start to wiggle profusely. I cannot believe this is happening to me.

  "No, no, NO... STOP! BRADY!" I scream.

  He gets my pants unbuttoned and forcefully pulls them down over my hips, exposing my bare skin. I try to reach behind me and grab my pants, but it's too hard. I dig my fingernails into his arm as hard as I can, but he grabs both of my hands and holds them over my head against the floor. I begin to cry.

  "Brady, you don't have to do this. Please, stop. PLEASE!" I yell out.

  He doesn't stop or reply. I can hear his heavy breathing and the unfastening of his belt. He pulls his pants down with one hand as he holds me down with the other. Brady lays back on top of me, and I can feel the warmth of his body against mine. He grabs my pants and panties, pulling them down farther, ripping the fabric. I'm becoming very nervous, and I am having a hard time breathing. I would never have thought that Brady would stoop to a level this low.

  "Brady, please. STOP!" I scream again.

  He enters his fingers in me to guide himself into my vagina. I try to squeeze everything tightly together to prevent it. He removes his fingers, and forcefully enters me. I gasp loudly. His penetration is rough and feels like he's ripping my insides. I cry and scream in pain, it's the most unbearable pain I've ever endured. I'm thankful he didn't enter me anally. That would have been torture.

  I lay here numb and lifeless as he pounds me bone dry, not giving two shits about what he is doing. He doesn't seem to think what he is doing is wrong, which it is on so many levels. He thrusts faster and deeper inside me. I can hear him grunt and moan in pleasure. I want the pain to go away, but it doesn't seem as if he's stopping any time soon. I start feeling very queasy and a little shaky. My mouth begins salivating uncontrollably, and I vomit. I turn my face to the opposite side; I close my eyes and pray for him to stop.

  He puts all his weight on me as he ejaculates inside of me. Brady lays on top of me while he catches his breath. He then climbs off me and stands to his feet. I lay still on the floor, listening, while he pulls his pants up, and tucks in his shirt. I've never felt this violated or helpless before; it's utterly disgusting.

  "Get dressed and come inside to say goodbye to my parents. Then I'll give you a ride home," he says, calm and relaxed as if we just had consensual sex.

  Brady leaves the pool house, and I curl up into a tiny ball. I sob hard as I lay here, holding my legs to my chest. I take a deep breath, and I try my best to collect myself. I pull up my ripped panties, noticing my inner thighs have some blood on them. I stand up from the floor and pull up my pants. My button is broke, so I pull my blouse down to hide it. I find a mirror in the pool house to quickly fix my hair and wipe the makeup from under my eyes.

  I cannot believe that just happened. I've worked beside Brady for four years and watched him with different women through those years, and I never suspected him to be a predator. Has he done this before? Has he done this to others at work? To Ris?

  I walk across the stone-paved sidewalk to the house and let myself in. Claire greets me. She is so kind and warm, and I want to cry my heart out to her desperately. I wonder if she knows what kind of person her son is and what he just did to me. I am still numb, and I want to go home.

  "It was very nice to have you for dinner, Allison. I want to apologize for our topic of conversation; it was inappropriate. I appreciate you sticking up for my son and putting us in our place," she says with a smile.

  I want to tell her I regret every word that came out of my mouth during dinner but instead, I give her a slight smile, trying to hide my shock and discomfort. I look around to see Brady, but he's not in the room.

  "Where is Brady?" I ask eagerly, so I can get the fuck out of this house and away from him.

  "He's in the sitting room with Jerry," she states as she leads the way.

  I follow her. We enter the sitting room, and Brady does not acknowledge my presence at first. His mother sits next to his father on the white sofa across from the grand piano. Brady is sitting in a chair near the lit fireplace.

  "Well, Mom and Dad, thanks a lot for dinner. I need to get Ali home and get ready for work tomorrow," he says as he stands up from the chair.

  I stand by the piano as he shakes his dad's hand and hugs his mother. His father says goodbye to me, and his mother stands to give me a slight embrace. Brady walks over to me, placing his hand on the small of my back. His touch makes me cringe. I am disgusted. I wish I could go home on my own, but I don't have a choice. I don't even know where I am. We walk out the door and over to his car, he opens my door, and I get in quickly. I watch him walk around the front of his car and get in. He doesn't look at me or say a word. He puts his earpiece in and makes a call.

  He is acting as if nothing happened. It's like he has some Jekyll and Hyde personality. He switches to pred
ator mode, then he shuts off whatever damage he administers to women he touches. I'm afraid of him; I'm scared of what he might do to me next. He continues with his conversation as I stare out the window the whole way back to my apartment, letting tears slip down my cheeks.

  Brady doesn't stop talking on his phone when he pulls up at my apartment. I get out of his vehicle and slam the door shut. He pulls out into traffic and takes off. I want to run inside my apartment and cry myself to sleep, but I don't know what to do. Should I go to the hospital and tell them someone forced themselves on me? Do I wake up Ris, and tell her? Would she even believe me?

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  My alarm sounds, and I awaken, hoping last night was merely a bad dream. It wasn't. I'm not as tired as I thought I'd be with only a few hours of sleep. I couldn't sleep much last night from not being able to get the images out of my head from what happened and how nauseous the morning-after pill made me feel. I've never had to take one before, and I couldn't ask Ris about it. She was asleep when I got home last night, and I didn't want to wake her, so I ran to the nearest open pharmacy and got the Plan B pill. I didn't even want to talk to Luke last night, so I just made small talk and acted as if everything was okay when it wasn't, and it's not.

  I'm terrified to go to work today and see Brady. I badly want to tell Ris about what happened last night, but I don't know how to tell her or how she might react. I am afraid she may see the situation differently since she has been involved with Brady romantically. I don't want it to get out in the open and jeopardize my job or friendship with her. I also do not want a big deal made from it, as I loathe drama, nor need any of it right now.

  I leave my room and notice that Ris's door is closed, meaning she is still asleep. I make my way to the bathroom to shower. I showered last night and scrubbed every inch of my body, but I still feel dirty and violated. I hope Brady is clean and does not have any STDs. Knowing him, I cannot take any chances. He's such a loose cannon when it comes to girls.