“Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Torres,” Omega Mother Beatrice appears, her eyes on me immediately.
My stomach dips, a slow rising burn at the back of my throat feels like a warning.
“Omega Simona, if you can accompany me, please. Your brother is here to see you about your grandmother. He assures me she is fine though he still needs a quick word.”
And then my stomach plummets. My handshakes as I grab the spray and apply it liberally.
“Should I pack my things?” I ask her quietly.
“He said he only needed a couple of minutes. I believe you have a double lesson with Mr. Torres, so you can leave your things.”
Instinctively my feet drag. I desperately don’t want to go with her. I don’t have a brother, and my grandmother died a few years back.
Weeks is all it takes for Brody to come shatter the illusion of freedom and time away from him that I’d already lost myself in.
Omega Mother Beatrice walks next to me, slowing her step to match mine.
“Under normal circumstances, Simona, we wouldn’t encourage family drop-ins, however your brother explained it was an issue he needed to speak with you about face to face.”
Opening the door to the private meeting room, Omega Mother Beatrice stays in the corridor, and I come face to face with Brody. He’s furious but wears his mask with astounding control despite the anger burning in his eyes.
Watching Brody interact with other people is terrifying. People simply don’t see past his veneer. And if people can’tsee who he is, what hope do I ever have trying to explain the way he is with me.
He listens intently, accepting her concern with the poise and grace you associate with used car salesmen or politicians. I wait next to him, letting him steer the conversation all the time, steeling myself internally. One glance in his eyes when I first arrived, and I already knew I needed to prepare for the worst.
“I won’t be long, five minutes max. I have a flight to catch, but our parents thought it best if I let Simona know face to face, as opposed to a phone call.”
“Of course.”
Brody circles his arm around my shoulder as he puts on a united front in family grief. The second the door shuts, he stares at me as he uses his fingers to do a silent countdown. On the count of one he moves with the force of a freight train and crowds me up against the door, his hand pushing hard against my face. So hard I can feel the shake of his muscles.
“Please, Brody, don’t do this,” I whisper, trying to keep the tremors out of my voice. Without doubt, I’m terrified of him hurting me, but I’m scared I’ll make it worse by making a noise.
The thought of making a sound scares me as much as his anger. I honestly worry for others if they were to interrupt him now.
Brody knows he snapped. With silent hands, he turns me so he can inspect my face, already worried he may have left a mark from his slip. His concern isn’t for me though, it’s for him.
He steps back once he’s finished looking—then another and another. The push of his presence still hangs like an unspoken threat.
He turns and walks towards another door, opening it to reveal a small janitor closet. Without a word, he points inside,never taking his eyes off me as I enter. In every blink there’s a challenge—and an expectation.
He doesn’t pull the door shut behind us, and I think that scares me more. It means his awareness stretches beyond hurting me—it includes not getting caught.
I walk past him.
“What do you think you are doing, huh? Not taking my calls, pretending you’re too busy to speak with me and then getting the staff here to call me and my parents, to tell us we can’t speak with you when I want to?” He’s snarling in my ear, low and foreboding. Something drops to the floor near my feet, making a thud, but I don’t risk moving a muscle. “And now you’re hiding things from me? Using sprays and doing whatever other bullshit they tell you to do. You’re forgetting something very important, Simona. I. Own. You…Me.” He strikes out, emphasising his words.
Pain radiates and he makes it worse as his fingers bury into the flesh and digging into the places he hit. I have to bite my lip to stay silent. I squeeze my eyes shut and lock myself in the one space he can’t reach me, my mind. He’s tried though, but so far I have managed to keep him out.
I guess in the time we’ve been apart, I have found new ways to protect myself against him. I can’t do anything about his latest attack, but today the pain is muffled. A whisper of a thunderstorm along with the mysterious paper and ink smell I know so well now keeps me company, while further in my delusion Ryder sings one of his softer ballads so clearly that I almost believe he’s standing in here with me.
Strangers provide the umbrella for me to hide under. I focus on them but don’t miss when Brody shoves me away from him. But his hands catch my hair, and he tugs me back to snarl. “I forbid you. Try telling anyone anything about me, and I’ll destroy them before setting you on fire.”
I hear the clip of his heel as he leaves the room. I can’tleave the janitor room yet needing the time to sort through my injuries and the horror of his visit. The ease at which he slid past Unity’s security measures scares me as much as anything about today.
Like when he was in here, time moves strangely. I have a near emptiness in my thoughts and I realise it’s the shock that has swiped my usual insights, but the lyrics of my favourite songs keep my mind active, distracted until the time is right for me to return to the real world.
I don’t feel anything either—no pain, no emotion. But I know when a spreading throb grows warmer on my side, that the time to return back to class has arrived.
