Brian made me feel alive once, and for months, I clung to that feeling. I allowed him to keep me locked in the basement when he worked. I even let him force me to clean the bathroom floor with an old toothbrush, or suck his dick as he fucked my face so hard I nearly got whiplash. All because I thought, he loved me, all because I was weak and helpless. Once, and only once I tried to run away from him. After that day, I never tried again. That was the day I nearly died. I prayed that’d I’d die and walk into heavens pearly gates. No such luck.
Brian wasn’t due home from work until late, so I stole a knife from the kitchen and used it to break free from my basement prison cell. What I didn’t know was Brian had been home all day. He knew I had stolen the knife and waited for me to make a break for it before he tackled me in the yard. Smashing my face into the grass, he started his assault. Wailing on my back with his fists, he knocked the wind out of me so I couldn’t scream. With one hand, he ripped my panties off and without lube, he entered me. Right on the front lawn out in the country, he raped me. There wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. After he came inside of me, he did what he’d done so many times before. Strung me up in the barn, naked, and began our cutting routine. Little slice here—suck—little cut there—suck—nibble here—slap there—then he went in for the motherload and carved a piece of skin from me. With precision, he removed it completely and threw it on the ground, stomping on my discarded flesh with his work boot. I poured out blood and the pain radiated so badly I couldn’t decipher a thing. I swam into my head, falling deeper into unconsciousness. Two days later, I woke up to have my side stitched unprofessionally, an IV in my arm and a severely worried Brian, holding my nearly lifeless hand.
“I’m so sorry.” He cried, tears pouring down his cheeks from his sunken in, sleepless eyes. To this day, I don’t think he slept a wink until I woke.
Kissing my lips, my hands, my body, he lavished me in revolting kisses. They made my skin crawl and the need to purge the contents of my stomach arose. I vomited bile all over the side of the bed, and onto the floor. For the first time ever, he cleaned it up without yelling or beating me. For nearly a week after that incident, he was pleasant and even caring. He cooked the dinners, he washed the laundry, and made the bed. I wasn’t even forced into the basement when he left for work. Hope for a better life clung to me. That maybe he’d decided he’d gotten his sick sadistic fill. However, I was wrong, so very wrong. Hundreds of times after that he broke me, cut me, and nearly killed me.
Snapping her fingers in front of my face, Roni, pulls me from my sordid past and into the present.
“You were thinking about Brian, weren’t you?” Concern clings to her words.
I nod in response.
“Gage is not like Brian. He’s a lawyer for Christ sake.”
Yes, that may be true. Gage is a lawyer, but what do I really know about him? Nothing. Other than he’s a sexy lawyer, his daughter is amazing, he has tattoos, drives a Denali, and he likes me. I don’t know his favorite color, if he reads or anything else for that matter. It’s not much to go on. Animal magnetism isn’t a justified reason to fall in love with someone. I can’t believe I thought I might be falling for him. See, like I said, my emotions are a mess. I can’t think straight with him in my world. He’s an awful unwelcomed distraction.
I don’t want to be here at work today. I want to go home and rest. I’m depressed; I’m smart enough to know what this heavy sad feeling is that’s looming over me like a dark thundercloud. I haven’t felt this sad in years. I know it’s because Roni and I are now on the outs. Gage won’t return my texts and the Suit Master just delivered an outlandishly expensive white gold, diamond tennis bracelet to my work. Not he himself but some mail carrier delivered it about an hour ago. It’s gorgeous; I can’t refute that. Too lavish though, first the books, then flowers, now this. Apparently, he thinks buying my love is the way to my heart. There is no path to my heart, it’s an island cut off from the world and anybody who tries to inhabit it.
After the argument with Roni this morning, I came to work and texted Gage to check up on Emma. Nothing. This afternoon I re-sent the text. Nothing, again. When they left today, Emma hugged me goodbye and Gage barely said a thing. Either he’s moping because I turned him down last night or he’s mad at me for some other unidentified reason.
It’s almost time to leave for the day and I’ve barely got a damn thing accomplished.
Suit Master: Angel, did you like the bracelet?