Page 20 of Steal

“Hey!” Faith snaps but he ignores her as he continues, “I can’t wait to get my dick inside you, to show you how a real man fucks….”

I can feel my heart pound as wetness builds between my legs along with the pain, and I know he’s made me bleed.

Swallowing hard and refusing to be raped by this dirty bastard, I quickly grab the knife without a single thought, then twist my body hard, causing him to move his fingers out of me roughly and stumble back a little. One moment he’s glaring at me and he’s moving toward me again and the next his eyes are wide as I stab the knife into his chest.

My tears fall as he stumbles back, his hand going to the knife, but he doesn’t remove it, only keeps a grip on it before coughing. Blood spatters out of his mouth over my face, and everything in me stills as reality hits me. His body suddenly falls against mine, his blood smearing over me. I hear Faith gasp, and when Brute’s body falls to the floor, his eyes wide open but vacant with the knife still in his chest, bile rises.

Oh God, I’ve killed him….

An ache pulls me from my living nightmare, reminding me that he’s most likely torn my vaginal walls, and I sob harder.

I’m a killer, I killed someone….

I know it was self-defense, but it’s not the point, and the hatred Steal shot my way, the fact he held a gun to my head….

Oh God….

I quickly open my door and lean over before my stomach tightens, causing pains to shoot through me, and I vomit, heaving, while my tears fall.

He said he loved me, but if that was the case, wouldn’t he have heard me out instead of automatically taking her side?

“Faith saw her do it, and I trust Faith's words over hers.”

I sob harder, gripping hold of the door.

For our whole relationship, he’s taken her side, even when she got in my ear, claiming to be still screwing him, that they laugh about me when they’re in bed together. I smacked her for it, and he took her side, and so did the club.

His dad banned me from the club, for Christ’s sake, and ever since, she’s caused so many arguments that the club rallies around her now, even though I’m the one trying to get on with life, trying to be happy with a man who clearly didn’t want me.

He took her side again, his club’s side, when one of his brothers just sexually assaulted me while his precious Faith stood guard.

Bile rises again, and I cough while wretching in between hard sobs.

I was leaving him. I wrote him a letter and left it on his bedside table. I couldn’t cope with the pain any longer, being put second, especially during times when I needed him the most, like my father’s death anniversary where I stood on the Brooklyn Bridge, where I scattered his ashes, alone, and he was at a club family BBQ with Faith, something I was banned from attending.

I was officially done, only to be pushed into the kitchen and assaulted.

Slowly, I sit up and look at the building through my tears before taking a deep breath, determined to go inside and get checked out. I look down at my clothes to ensure I don’t have blood on me, but I sob harder, seeing I’m covered. My skin suddenly feels like it’s on fire, and my sobs get louder.

The need to vomit again hits, but I ignore it and quickly turn and grab the bag filled with clothes from Steal’s room, and pull out the first item I touch, which happens to be Steal’s t-shirt. I pull my tank top off, not caring I’m in a parking lot for all to see, and quickly put the t-shirt on, then grab my wet wipes and quickly wipe my hands, arms, and face, scrubbing hard, before throwing them on the ground with my top, all while I sob and shake like a leaf.

I need to get checked out, and then I need to leave. Mom won’t care I’m gone; she’s a bitch like that, but Perrie…she’s going to hate me. But I can’t risk her safety.

I still have some clothes and photos in my old room; I’ll collect them, then say goodbye to my sister….

With a wobbly chin at the thought of disappointing my little sister, I climb out of my car and walk into the ER with my heart in my throat. I notice it’s busy, and patients are scattered everywhere. Some look my way, frowning, and I wipe my tears before heading to the nurse’s desk, trying to ignore the all the curious gazes.

The brunette sitting behind the desk doesn’t look up, instead, she continues writing and says, “Please fill out this form and then take a seat," and then pushes a form my way over the countertop.

More tears fall, and without picking up the form, I whisper, “I was just sexually assaulted….”

Her head shoots up in shock, her brown eyes wide as she looks me over, and I start to tremble, causing her to jump into action.

She rounds the desk, gently takes my arm, and guides me to a cubicle as the other patients moan and groan. She ignores them, gently helps me sit, then disappears for a few minutes. She returns with a doctor I recognize from the welcome pack I received last week.

The man smiles as he grabs a rolling chair and sits before me, leaving enough distance to allow for my comfort. The nurse stays in the cubicle, which helps me relax a little.

I know this man won’t hurt me, but after what has just happened, my nerves are shot.

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