Page 108 of The Catalyst

My fingers knotin the blanket under my body as my eyes start to feel heavy, but then the bedroom door opens. At first, my guard is down because I figure either Oliver has come back to check on me or Martin is here, but then my eyes flutter open as Nigel walks in.

Immediately, I’m awake and scrambling for the edge of the bed, ready to bolt again.

He’s not supposed to be in here.

“Hey, hey.” His voice is soft and disarming as he holds up his hands, a look of grief on his face. “I’m not going to hurt you, baby.” His head drops, his expression covered in shame and regret.

I clutch the blanket around my body, my back stuck against the wall. I don’t say anything. I know I could scream and someone in the next room would come running to remove him, but for some reason, I don’t.

I don’t even know why I can’t open my mouth, not even to say a word.

“You don’t have any idea how much it kills me that you look at me like you think I’m going to hurt you,” he says as his jaw clenches and releases over and over. “I never wanted to hurt you. I just wanted to talk, work through what happened. I fucking love you, Beth, so much it makes me feel like I’m losing my mind sometimes.” He drops to his knees next to the bed, laying his cheek against the sheet. “The past week has been absolute hell. First, I didn’t know where you were and was worried Gray was hurting you, that he had you some place, tormenting you. I wanted to kill him because I didn’t know if you were safe, if you were happy, if you were even fucking alive. Then, I saw you with him and…I just wanted to hold you, tell you how sorry I was for upsetting you.”

He seems genuinely remorseful, but how real could it be? He’s not apologizing for the acts of violence themselves, but the effect they had on me.

Also, his words don’t make sense. I sent him the same video I sent to Oliver. The revenge sex tape with Martin. One would clearly see that I was doing that of my own accord.

Did he not watch it?

Maybe he saw enough to see it was me and Martin and decided not to watch more.

“Please, forgive me, baby,” he begs, not moving an inch from his spot.

I don’t move either. I barely fucking breathe.

* * *

I stand on the porch,the sun peaking over the horizon, as Martin’s sleek, expensive car pulls up outside of the house. My heart speeds up as he gets out of the car.

“What are you doing over here?” he asks as he runs through the front yard, right over to me. My bottom lip trembles as he gets close. He takes me in his arms and I savor the feel of him, his body, his touch, his heart beating in sync with my own. The smell of his luxury cologne.

I used to clump all of the elite together in a bin labeled as “human garbage”, but Martin took one space out of that. He’s the opposite of my perspective of the rest of them. He’s been my friend, my confidante, my lover, my salvation, my revenge. He’s been everything good and it feels like it’s been that way longer than just a week. Every moment with him expands past our time spent together.

God, this isn’t fair.

“I’m okay,” I whisper as he slowly pulls back.

His eyes narrow, confusion present. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

I don’t want to say it. I really don’t. I just want to stay in this moment with him.

He pushes the hair out of my face, showing the dried tears I’ve been crying since I came to a decision.

“Talk to me, baby. Tell me. What did he do?”

I take a breath before saying, “He didn’t hurt me.” That would be the truth if it wasn’t for the slight rash over my mouth that he hasn’t spoken of.

I can’t avoid this though. I did everything. I ran away with Martin’s help and Nigel still tracked me down. This is my only option left.

“I’m staying,” I admit, the words feeling so fucking wrong.

He doesn’t say anything, but I notice the disappointment on his face. I share the sentiment.

“He found me at the house. He showed up when you left and brought me here. He was just waiting for you to leave. Don’t you get it? He’snevergoing to let me go. No matter how far I run or how well I cover my tracks, he’s just going to find me. I can’t live my life always looking over my shoulder wondering if that’s the day when I’m going to have to make a run for it again. It was good while it lasted though.” He runs his knuckles over my cheek like he always does and I lean into his touch.

“I can get you to a safe house. We can–”

“No, Martin.” My voice is soft as I give him a fake smile full of the sadness in my heart. “This is where things are at. I have to stay, but this time, I have a failsafe. If he hurts me again…well, let’s just say no one will ever see him again and then, I’ll be free. We all know abusive partners don’t just stop at once. They can’t help themselves and, if it means I will be free of him permanently, so be it. He can’t hurt me more than he already has.”

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