He uses his knee to pry my legs apart. His hands slide further down and into my panties. I shut my eyes tight as I can possibly get them as he shoves a finger inside of me. It hurts. I’m dry down there as he tries to put another in.
“Motherfucker!” he shouts. My hands are released, and the groping down in my underwear stops. Niko’s growl registers in my head, causing me to look down. He’s bit James’ left hand and Niko continues growling and showing his teeth. He looks vicious. Something I’ve never seen from Nick’s dog.
“This isn’t over, my little whore,” he says to me as he’s backing out the front door.
He isn’t looking at me. He keeps his eyes on Niko. When he’s out of the entryway and gone, I run to it, closing and locking it as fast as my fingers will do it. I lean against the door, trying to calm myself. It isn’t working. I take off, racing to my bathroom. I turn the shower to hot. I have to get his touch off me. I can’t have any part of him on me.
I strip out of all my clothes and get in the shower. I grab Nick’s body wash and pour all that’s left onto my bath loofah. I scrub every inch of my body. All I can feel is him all over me and inside me as I get every part of me clean.
I rinse all the soap off and turn off the water. I step out and towel dry. I don’t bother with drying my hair. Opening the door to the bathroom, I walk to my closet and put on a pair of panties. Nick’s clothes are still here and I need something to comfort me. I grab one of his white dress shirts off a hanger and put it on.
I’m standing in my closet as the tears form in my eyes. I can’t hold them back and I don’t want to. They slide down my cheeks as I slide down to the floor. I scoot back into the back of the closet and continue to sob. I wrap my arms around my knees to hug myself. How I wish Nick was here to hold me.
I rock myself and continue to cry until there are no more tears. I cry for hours. I cry for all the times I never let myself cry so long ago. Finally, I lay myself on the floor in my closet. I’m spent and tired, and I let my eyes close, not wanting to move. Just wanting to forget.
* * * * *
I wake up to my name being called, or yelled rather. I’m exhausted and still lying on the floor in my closet. I don’t know how long I’ve been here, but I’m cold and my body aches.
“Shannon, where the fuck are you?” I start to breathe rapidly, thinking he’s back to finish what he started earlier. Then it registered that it’s Nick’s voice. His tone is etched with panic. He’s here and he’s in my room. I look up to see him walking into the closet. I see blue intense eyes looking down at me. It’s almost enough to start the waterfall of tears again. God…I’ve missed those eyes.
“What the fuck happened out there? Why are you lying on the floor?” he asks as he squats down, resting his elbows on his knees. The panic I think I heard in his voice moments ago has faded. He pulls me off the floor with gentle hands, and I leap into his arm almost causing him to fall backwards. He catches himself and me by grabbing onto the doorframe.
I don’t care what he did yesterday in his office, with her. I need him. I need this. I don’t care about the horrible things he said to me last week. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I begin to cry again. I didn’t think I had any tears left, but apparently, I do. He wraps my bare legs around his waist as he stands up.
Exiting the closet, he walks to my side of the bed. He tries to release me, but I shake my head no and hold onto him tighter.
Taking a deep sigh, he heads out of my bedroom door, carrying me down the hall into the living room. His shirt that I’m wearing is long enough so it covers my panties and the tops of my thighs.
“Jase, get her a glass of water, please,” he says as he is walking over to the couch. I’m hiding my face against his neck when I hear his sister’s voice. It’s shaky…nervous.
“Shannon, are you okay?” she asks me, but I can’t respond to her question. I’m not okay, but I’m better now that Nick is here. I can’t bring myself to release him. If I do, he might leave. He can’t leave me. Not again. I can’t handle that.
Nick sits on the couch, bringing me down onto his lap with him. I unwrap my legs to place them on each side of his thighs on the couch. Nick pries my arms loose from his neck and shoulders, pushing me back so we are face to face. When I look at him, he isn’t staring back at me. Something else has caught his attention.
“Who the fuck did that?” he yells; his eyes are wide and filled with alarm. He’s looking at my throat, and I know from his stare, there must be a bruise from earlier today. I start to tear up, burying my face back in his neck again. I shed more tears. When are they going to fucking end? I don’t want to cry. Not over that worthless bastard, but I am, and I can’t stop.