Pulling up at the front of my house, we didn’t need to check if anyone was home, they were all at his parents’, but I thought Brody was only dropping me off.
Prickles of unease skate up and down my arms when instead of driving away, he turns the car off and gets out without saying a word. That’s not the issue; my fear is brought on with the mask of silent rage on his face. I think I’m the only one to see it, but I’ve also come to associate this version of him with his other side.
My anxiety continues to climb when he walks around my side of the car.
“Don’t you fucking lock that door,” he snarls. The force of his words rips through my sensitivities. I’m nearly powerless to move.
He wrenches the door open, and instinctively I shy away from him. Right action for me but wrong too because it enrages him.
“I saw you looking at Daniel and watched you making plans trying to trip me up. You’re going to tell anyone who will listen about him, aren’t you? You’d love the attention of being the one to spread rumours that I’m into him. You’d twist what you think you saw, and what you think you know, into making me out queer.”
I fumble with my seat belt, moving to crab crawl out of his reach, but I am way too slow, and he is too fast, and strong.
“I don’t know who Daniel is, Brody. I don’t know what you are talking about.”
My words stop when he catches me. His fingers wrap around my throat.
He squeezes tighter and the light in his eyes blazes to a roaring flame. His scent thickens, adding to the terror weaving through my veins.
“Don’t you say his name. Stop!” Barked inches from my face, with a ferocity that shocks me to my core, the dance we’ve been enduring changes forever.
“Brody, please,” I manage. It is a whine. I have no shame in that. I’m completely shocked by this flip in his switch and I’m trying to push him away.
“Stop!” he screams.
His command spears like a dart shredding my natural survival instincts and handing him the reins of power. He towers above me, his brown eyes dancing maliciously, and I’m powerless to do anything but get lost in them as he continues to press his fingers harder around my throat.
The darkness swallows me whole.
I come to on my bed, naked, with him looming above me. I wish he would choke me out again.
Brody doesn’t even look like himself. His eyes have shifted to a strange muted brown and any pretence of warmth in them is long gone.
I am useless against his strength.
“Stop fucking fighting!” There’s no room for misinterpretation in his tone. It is power ravaged and full of hate.
His influence rewires my brain function. It’s like he somehow manages to reach inside the safety of the very essence of me and constructs a wall alienating me from my free-will, derailing me entirely.
“You need a reminder of who owns you.”
I try to distract myself. I try to stay locked far, far away inmy thoughts. I focus not on what he is doing, but instead, I torment myself with self-doubt; I’ll never be a match for his strength or determination to destroy me. And I’ll never understand his reasons.
Another gust of his scent in my face and my eyes slam shut. It is better not to watch anyway.
Except of course, Brody being Brody, barks another command. “Open your eyes, Simmy.”
The bark is so loud it hurts my ears, the patronising hate in his voice hurts my soul.
Every time I have to breathe, I have no choice but to let his scent fill my lungs, effectively choking myself from the inside out. But I manage to drift inside my thoughts for as long as I can.
Brody moves, making it impossible for me not to see his hand and fingers. It takes me a minute to realise the movement is purposeful and done maliciously. Another reminder of the new power he wields.
“Look at that,” he says. There’s no request, his words are powerful. Without looking, I know his eyes are on my face, and not what he wants me to look at.
I know it’s going to be a vile reminder, and I must struggle or make a noise because he uses a firmer push of his designation, making it impossible for me not to do what he wants. “Look at that.”
He pulls his rust-coloured fingers apart and turns them. I know what I’m looking at, but at the same time I’m not processing what I’m seeing.
