Chapter Eleven

SCARLETT

T hat was incredible.

My pussy is still throbbing in the best possible way. Everything about Morgan is intoxicating. Being with her feels like driving at top speed with the windows down, it's terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time, and I love it. I've never felt wanted before, not like this.She makes me feel special, like I'm a prize. My heart warms at the thought of us—her and I together. I'ver never thought of myself as gay, but after tonight, there's not a doubt in my mind, I'm meant to be hers .

My stomach rolls with unease as I ascend the stairs to my second floor apartment door. I stopped by Sam's to change quickly but then came straight here. I have to get this over with. A light drizzle falls, cooling my heated skin as I take the last few steps. Each footfall is a heavy beat towards a fate I don't want to face. I hate confrontation. I don't want to be with Kyle but my heart definitely belongs to someone else. I've been with him for years, I owe him an explanation. I can't just ghost him, right ? Part of me wonders if he'll even care. It's always felt like I'm holding him back. Like if he didn't have me tagging along, he'd be free to be who he was meant to be. Maybe he'll be happy that I'm leaving. He can fuck who he wants, whenever he wants. He won't be stuck with me anymore. Maybe this won't be a confrontation at all.

The faded, yellowing door of our apartment is illuminated by a single ancient porch light. The three in the number thirteen on our door hangs slightly askew. Sliding my key into the lock it spins without resistance, telling me it's not locked. He's home. Fuck .

Slowly letting the door swing open, I step across the threshold onto the faded carpet. The whole apartment smells of plastic, the only evidence that there have in fact been workers in here fixing our window.

Swirling pain and anxiety hits my heart as I press the door shut. I'm usually greeted by an orange fur ball yelling at me and rubbing up against my legs. He's noticeably absent.

"Samson!" My voice echoes off the wall. There's no response.

Stepping further into the apartment I can see the light of the TV flashing but the sound is off.

"Samson? Here kitty, kitty, kitty!" I call again, hoping he's just being skittish from all the commotion.

"You're fucking cat isn't here," a deep voice snarls from behind me, making me jump.

I spin to see Kyle standing with one foot crossed over the other in the doorway of the bedroom, his shoulder leaned against the door frame and a bottle in his hand. His usually neatly styled hair is a mess. The dirty blonde locks fall across his forehead. His eyes are red and heavily lidded. He's drunk.

Fuck .

"Where is he?" I take a tentative step back. I know not to challenge him or mess with him when he's acting this way. This isn't the Kyle I fell in love with. When he's been drinking and we're alone, he's different. He's mean.

He pushes off the doorframe, stalking towards me as if I'm the sole reason for all his pain and anger. He's wearing distressed denim and a tight fitting T-shirt. The collar of his shirt is uneven, as if it's been pulled and stretched. He looks off. Not his usual put together self. His rage radiates off him in heated waves. My heart thunders and I'm struck by the urge to run. But I've run before. He always catches me. And when he does, it's always worse.

"Fuck if I know. Stupid thing probably ran out the window and got hit by a car. He's road kill by now."

"Don't say that," I hiss at Kyle as he stalks closer. For every step I take backward he matches with one forward. He's backing me into a corner and there's nothing I can do about it.

"He's as dead as you're going to be if you don't tell me where you were tonight."

Something in me snaps. I'm not sure if it's the sense of power still humming through my blood from my night with Morgan, the promise of a better future, or the fact that he just said my cat is probably fucking dead, but I am done. I'm done with his shit.

I reach out my hands and shove into his chest. He doesn't expect it and stumbles back, hitting the wall behind him.

"Fuck you, Kyle!" I shout, storming past him and into our bedroom. "I'm packing my stuff and I'm leaving. Call me if my cat comes back!"

I remember being so excited when we first moved in here. I had butterflies in my stomach thinking about coming home every night to share my bed with the man who I thought loved me. Now I look around and all I see is a cage—a cage that I allowed myself to stay trapped inside of for far too long. I was too compliant and too silent for too long. But I'm not that girl anymore. I'm ready to stand up for myself and be happy.

Grabbing a duffle bag, I throw it on the bed and begin filling it with all my clothes and shoes. In my peripheral, I can see his dark presence looming in the doorway. I don't turn. I'm done bending to his will.

"Where were you tonight, Scarlett?" His words are slurred and soured. He's angry and drunk. I need to get my shit and get out of here, away from him and all the toxic venom oozing out of every pore of the man I thought I could trust.

I ignore him, continuing to fill the bag with as much as it will hold. I don't even bother to fold anything. I just want to get out of here and to put the past behind me.

A sudden, sharp sting burns my scalp as his fingers thread tightly into my hair. He pulls me back, the motion giving me whiplash. His front is to my back as he holds me securely by the hair, staring down at me with murderous rage in his eyes.

"Where the fuck were you tonight, Scarlett?" His other hand snakes down my body and finds the button of the jeans I changed into before coming home. Popping it open, his thick fingers roughly shove their way down the front of my pants. I try to pull away, try to flail, try to fight him—but he's bigger. Tears burn my eyes as my scalp screams from where he holds me tightly by the hair. His calloused fingers find the lips of my pussy. Bile rises in my throat at his unwelcome touch. "Were you off being a whore? Letting someone else touch you?"

"Yes," I spit into his face as I speak with all the pent up rage I've been holding onto for years. "I was with someone else tonight, Kyle. I'm done with you and this toxic relationship. Now let me go! I'm leaving."

With a firm grip still on my hair he spins me, shoving me face first into the wall. The impact shakes my entire skull, leaving black spots dancing across my field of vision. Everything's fuzzy and off. Fuck .

"You're not going anywhere." His fingers find my tender opening and shove their way inside me. I'm dry and closed off but he doesn't care. He finger fucks me roughly and fiercely, desperately trying to draw pleasure from me that isn't there. This is so different from earlier. With Morgan, everything we did was exciting and welcomed. It's like she was unlocking secret pleasures I didn't know I even had. But this feels like a violation, like something is being stolen from me. A choked sob escapes my lips as I try unsuccessfully to throw him off. I don't want him.

"Please. Stop," I sob as he continues his assault.

He rips himself from me, flipping me around and shoving me back against the wall again. Warm wetness pools behind me. Fuck, I think I'm bleeding . Inky blackness creeps across my vision, my head throbs in pain as I blink to try to clear my eyes. He's a blurred, black figure looming above me, anger burning off him in a fiery blaze. He's a true monster. Before I can recover, the sharp and sudden sting of a hard slap sends my entire body sideways. I fall to the floor under the force of the backhanded smack to my face.

"You don't get to tell me no, Scarlett." Bending at the waist, he hovers over me. An angry scowl painted across his face, distorting his handsome features into something evil. "You're mine."

"You cheat on me all the time." Everything hurts. Every breath is agony. But I'm not giving in to him. I'm ready to stand up for myself, no matter the cost. "Why do you even care?"

His fingers roughly grip my cheeks, forcing my mouth open into a pained ‘O'. He uses his grip to pull me up into him, our lips barely separated. I can taste the stale beer on his breath as he breathes into me.

"You're right. I have cheated on you. And I will continue to cheat on you. And you will take it and then be here waiting to serve me on your fucking knees when I get home," he shoves his tongue into my open mouth, grinding his hardening cock against my leg. "You're an uneducated, weak, mousy little whore, who's worth nothing," he whispers against my lips.

Using all the strength I have left, I rear back away from him and bring my face forward. My forehead collides with cartilage and bone. The unmistakable crunch of his nose against my skin is sickening. Warmth sprays all across me, showering me in red. He screams and releases me to grab his nose.

Seizing the opportunity, I push myself up to my feet. As quickly as I'm able to, I move towards the front door. I stumble and fall against the walls of the hallway as the entire world spins and twirls. My head throbs and bile rises in my throat. I'm definitely hurt but I have to get out of here. For the first time in a long time I see the future of a life worth living and I'm not willing to give that up easily. I'm going to leave Kyle; leave this apartment. Maybe I'll finally go back to school. I can get a degree, start a career, travel, and see where things go with Morgan. I need to get out of here and give myself the opportunity to finally be free.

And then it all comes crashing down. The weight of his body collides into me, throwing me down to the floor. I hit the ground with a sickening amount of force. The wind is knocked completely from me. My lungs are on fire and vomit burns my esophagus, threatening to escape my mouth. I want to scream and claw away from him, but he's too big, too strong. He throws punch after punch into my head as he pins my body to the ground with his knees. Each hit feels like I'm moving further and further down an endless tunnel, away from the light and freedom at the end. It doesn't even hurt anymore as I teeter on the edge of consciousness.

Wrapping his hand around my hair, he pulls on it. My scalp burns as he attempts to yank me to my feet.

"You're not going anywhere, whore."

I stumble as the entire world seems to tilt and shift beneath my feet. My vision is going in and out. I crawl on all fours, desperately trying to keep up as he pulls me back across the apartment. Blood drips down my face, seeping into my eyes and clouding my sight. The carpet burns my skin as I'm dragged across the bedroom floor.

"Please don't rape me," I manage to mumble between choked sobs.

With a final sharp pull and rough shove, I'm thrown to the floor of the closet. My whole head throbs as the ghost of his touch scorches his violence across my skin. Everything thrums in a viscous rhythm to the beat of my erratic heart.

"I'm not going to rape you. You're a fucking mess. You'll stay in here until you come to your senses and are ready to clean yourself up and service me like I deserve."

The door slams shut, sealing the entire space in cold emptiness. I don't know how long I lay there, bloodied and beaten, until the darkness finally pulls me under.