Page 76 of Back to Me

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Julian yells. His voice echoes through our apartment as he stands up, kicking the ottoman behind him. It tumbles across the floor, bouncing and landing against the wall like a giant dice against a craps table. Waving his knife in my face again, I lean back. My throat tightens, and my air is cut off when Julian’s fingers grip my neck. Helpless with my arms tied, I fall back against the couch, my bound hands digging into the back, and my shoulders ache. I try to break his grip, and I hear Graham yell beside me, begging Julian to stop.

Keeping his hand clenched around my neck, he points his knife at Graham.

“Do you want to know what this bitch did to me the night we first met? She flirted with me, she was begging for me, she wanted me.” Laughing, he turns his face back to me. Pressing his nose against mine, the drool spilling from his venomous mouth drips onto my chin. He loosens his grip just enough for me to inhale a quick rush of air. Staring into my eyes, he continues, “She flaunted herself down the street in that slutty red dress. She wanted me, and I knew it. I offered to buy her a drink, but the bitch paid for her own and suddenly wanted to leave. She rejected me.”

Letting go of my neck, he brings his hand up to my chin, squeezing my cheeks together in his firm grip, all the while keeping his knife pointed at Graham. The pain he’s inflicting on my chin is nothing compared to the burning sensation caught in the back of my throat. I cough as he presses his lips to mine. I squeeze my eyes shut, tasting his tongue against my mouth. Pulling back, he stares into my eyes once more before releasing me. Pushing me away with his hand, I fall to my side. Rolling into a bout of coughs, I tilt my head back, feeling the burning rise up through my throat. It sears like it’s been burned with a thousand irons. Tears spill from my eyes in constant waves, and my head spins. I press my cheek into the cushion of the couch and breathe against it.

“You’re nothing to me, Julian. I will never love you the way I love Graham.” I take a deep breath and swallow. “You lost, Julian. You lost me.”

Seething with rage, Julian slaps me, his skin smacking against my face with an agonizing burn, shooting to every nerve deep in my bones. I can tell what I’ve said has upset him more, but I can’t help it. The adrenaline of our situation gives me the courage and the boldness to speak the truth.

“You lost me,” I repeat, whispering as my face pulsates with his lingering touch.

I can hear Graham beside me, struggling to break free from his ties. Fighting to sit up, I use every muscle in my body, using all the strength I have. But I barely make it halfway to sitting when Julian shoves me again.

“Shut up! You stay there while I have a little chat with your boyfriend here.”

Panting against the couch, lying there helpless, listening to Julian, I hold on to the hope Graham and I will somehow make it out of this.

“Remember the day I interviewed you in my office?” he asks Graham, not waiting for him to respond before he continues. “I thought you were a gift sent down from Heaven when you told me my Sara was the one who had drawn the painting with you. I found it to be serendipitous when you told me she worked for my very old friend, Allison Newbury.” He scoffs, recalling the memory. “It was set up so beautifully, and I didn’t even know it at the time. Isn’t it funny how I had simply suggested a collaboration and…” My body shudders with the sudden sensation of Julian’s hand caressing the side of my thigh. “…and the artist ended up being my Sara?” I curl myself in, bringing my knees to my chest, recoiling at his touch. I can hear the constant humming of Graham’s heated breaths. Julian’s hand glides across my thigh again before he stops, cupping the side of my ass and clenching his fingers around my flesh.

“She’s not your Sara,” Graham seethes.

“You know? You’re right, Graham. She wasn’t my Sara at the time, was she?” Gripping my arm, Julian jerks me upright. My hair flies against my face, and I attempt to blow away the strands, parting it enough to see what’s happening. I give up, feeling my throat erupt into flames.

Reaching around to his back pocket, Julian pulls out a folded piece of paper. Graham’s letter is neatly folded and pinched between his fingers. Graham’s stare turns to ice, and his chest stills. Everything stops as I stare at the piece of paper now in Julian’s possession.

“Little did I know,” he says, glancing at the both of us. “She wasn’t only your roommate. You were fucking her,” he laughs, his lips spread into a devilish grin.

I close my eyes and sigh, the physical pain nowhere near the emotional pain Julian is inflicting with his words.

Julian tosses the letter at Graham, and I follow it with my eyes as it bounces off his chest and lands between the cushions. The blood drains from my face when I see my phone wedged between the cushions, below where the letter landed. Somehow, when I had bent over on my side, it had slipped out of my pocket and into the cushions. Relief and hope flood my veins.

Inching my hand out, I lean over enough to cover the gap in the cushions and quickly grab my phone between two fingers, my wrists aching as the thick twine wrapped around them digs into my flesh.

“You.” Graham’s voice remains strong despite the situation unfolding around us. “You were the one who didn’t include Sara in the exhibit. You wanted her to blame me.”

“Wow, Graham,” Julian laughs, shaking his head. “You sure are a smart one to put that together. I’m surprised it took you so long to figure it out. But wait,” he pauses, mocking Graham. “That’s right. She never told you about me.” Rearing his arm back, Julian drives his fist into Graham’s face. Then he does it again. And again. I turn away, wishing I could make it stop. The sound of knuckles meeting flesh and bone makes me recoil and my stomach twists, the bile rising halfway through me. When I reopen my eyes, Julian’s fist and Graham’s face are covered with blood. Graham angrily spits a pool of blood onto the floor. I’m surprised he isn’t more affected by the beating, but the way his chest is heaving with each breath, I can tell adrenaline is keeping him focused.

Slowly, Julian bends down, staring into Graham’s eyes.

“Now back to our little talk,” he grins. “Don’t forget about the day I set you up with David, the potential buyer.” He pouts, pretending to feel bad for Graham. “Aw, did it upset you having to be stuck in rush hour traffic so long?” Stretching his arm out to his side, he drags his finger along the side of my face, never once breaking his eyes away from Graham. Blood from Julian’s finger smears across my cheek. “I appreciate your eagerness for a little sale. Gave me a chance to get this girl alone.”

Graham’s blue eyes widen, fearing the worst. When he turns toward me, I can read his thoughts behind them.

Shaking my head, I quickly explain. “He didn’t touch me like that, Graham. He just trapped me in the elevator. Nothing happened.” Silently, I apologize a million times, knowing it still wouldn’t be enough.

His eyes remain wide, and it’s at that moment I realize, it didn’t matter to Graham whether Julian had taken it too far or not. He had still taken advantage of me whether it was physically or emotionally. And Graham wasn’t able to be there to protect me. The guilt and self-blame are already so blatantly coursing through him.

“Do you want to know how I came to find out you were fucking our little blondie over here?” Julian asks Graham, forcing Graham to break his eyes away from me.

Shaking, I grip my phone behind my back and slide my thumb over the screen, unlocking it. Feeling Graham trembling beside me, my stomach flips hearing his voice.

“You’re sick,” he spouts. “You’re a sick fucking bastard! You lay one hand on her, and I swear to God…”

Julian’s face brightens with crimson once again. I can tell just hearing Graham’s voice is enough to put him in a frenzy. I hold my breath, anxiously waiting for his response, to see if he’ll deliver another round of blows.

“It was the night of Allison’s monthly gallery showing,” Julian calmly says, ignoring Graham. His fingers ghost along my chin, and with an oddly gentle touch, he traces a crippling line down the center of my chest, stopping between my breasts. Parting his lips, he swipes his tongue along his mouth.

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