“Victor,” I reply back in the same tone.
“Why haven’t you been answering my texts?” His voice is a growl. He’s never sounded like that before talking to me.
“My friends were hurt, so I’ve been taking care of them,” I snap. “I’m sorry I didn’t come running.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
Swallowing down the turmoil that’s boiling inside of me. “I’ve had a bad week and an even worse day. So, if you don’t mind, I want to go take a shower and go to bed.” Before he can answer, I hang up. It’s the first time we’ve ever argued and I hate it. My phone buzzes in my hand again, but I hit ignore, then turn it off.
I try to roll over on my side, but can’t move. My eyes fly open and the small relief that I’m not blindfolded is stripped away when I see his dark shadow standing beside me. I swallow down the bile in my throat. He turns the lamp on next to my bed and I wish I were blindfolded. As I turn my head to look up at the ceiling, he grabs my face hard and turns me until I’m forced to look at him.
“Do you see what you do to me?” he asks like it’s my fault he can’t control himself.
I can’t take this anymore. It used to be once or twice a month, but it’s slowly becoming more and more. Now it’s almost every day. He climbs onto the bed and straddles me and I squeeze my eyes shut. His fingers tighten around my jaw.
“Open your fucking eyes,” he snarls.
When I don’t respond right away, he tightens his fingers so much my teeth cut into my cheek. I’m probably going to havebruises tomorrow, which will piss him off. He doesn’t like to leave bruises, but when he does, it’s always my fault. I finally open my eyes.
“I try to resist you, but…”
He looks down at himself. I refuse to look. He removes his hand from my face and moves so he can settle between my legs. He’s going to make it hurt this time.
“Please, don’t,” I whisper. Will this ever stop?
“No!” I sit up in bed, drenched in sweat, and pull my knees to my chest as I begin rocking back and forth. It’s been months since I’ve had one of those.Is it because of what’s going on with Victor? Or maybe because of what happened to Bailey?I put my head in my hands, my forehead slick with sweat.
“Liv?” My head pops up. I forgot Bec was here. “Are you okay?”
I suck in air and wipe at the sweat pouring from my brow. “I had a bad dream.” Bec walks to my bed. She sits down and reaches out her hand to touch me, but I scoot back. “Please don’t. I just need a minute.” Bec moves back to give me space, and she has no idea how much I appreciate it. Not just that she’s giving me space, but also that she’s not asking any questions.
After a few seconds, I raise my head and look at her. “I have bad dreams sometimes.” Not calling them what they really are unsure if she’ll understand or not. “They feel so real it takes me a little while to realize it was just a dream.”
She nods. “Do you have tea? I can make you some.”
“Yeah, that would be nice. Thank you.” She leaves and I grab my phone to turn it back on. It immediately begins buzzing with messages from Victor. Guilt seeps into my bones at how I acted earlier tonight. This was my punishment.
Victor: I don’t appreciate you hanging up on me Olivia.
Victor: Did you turn your phone off?
Victor: I’m sorry you had a bad week. And I’m sorry about what happened to your friends today, but you are in trouble and we will discuss this tomorrow. Lane will bring you to my house.
Reading each text, I feel worse and worse with each one. I fold my lips between my teeth.
Olivia: You hurt me. But I’m sorry for how I acted. I’ll see you tomorrow.
Or today, I guess, since it’s the middle of the night. I don’t wait to see if he responds. After I put on my purple silk robe that Victor bought me, I walk out to the kitchen and climb up onto the chair at the island. Bec sits a cup of tea in front of me.
“You’re probably wondering what that was about, huh?” I whisper.
I stare at my cup, not looking at her. The tears in my eyes may actually fall this time. Between what happened to Bailey, the dream, and the argument with Victor, my emotions are extremely heightened.
“Liv,” she says, and I finally look up at her.
Bec walks around the island and sits next to me. She slowly moves her hand toward me, reminding me of Victor. She places her hand on my forearm and her warmth comforts me.
“You don’t have to tell me about your dream unless you want to.”
