Page 16 of Falling For Liam
I’ve got nothing saved up. Every penny I had has gone towards living the past few months. I’ll be fucked if I’m going to go running to my parents for a hand out. As far as they’re concerned, my life is just peachy.
Once I’ve allowed myself a few minutes to wallow in self-pity, I start the engine and begin the drive home. I know I shouldn’t, but when I spot the corner shop in the distance, I pull over and treat myself to a bottle of wine and a bar of chocolate. I shouldn’t be spending money but I need something, anything, to make life feel just a little bit better.
Pulling up into my space, I grab my stuff and head into the depressing building. As usual, I don’t see another living person. If it wasn’t for all the noise, I’d swear we lived here alone.
Every time I climb these stairs, it gets harder and harder to muster up the energy. My eyes run over the same graffiti I see every day as the putrid scent fills my nose. Being unemployed and unable to afford even this shithole now makes me see it in an even worse light than usual.
The light flickers above me as I slide the key into the lock. Feeling a little uneasy, I risk a look over my shoulder, but the place is deserted. I’m just being paranoid, and I’m frustrated that it’s exactly what he wants.
I’m slipping my shoes off as I push the door closed when it happens. It swings open and, in seconds, his hands are on me. The sound of smashing glass fills my ears before I hear him whisper, “Surprise.”
Bile burns my throat as he holds me against him. One of his hands is around my throat and the other around my waist, stopping me from moving.
He kicks the door closed but I don’t hear the bang; panicked white noise is the only thing filling my ears as he pushes me towards the living room. His hardness pressing against my arse has me retching.
“Get the hell off me,” I scream as he forces me to a stop in front of the sofa.
“Shut the fuck up, bitch. I know you’ve been waiting for this.” His hips roll against me and I thrash about, desperately trying to get anything to connect with him, to hurt him, to distract him.
The hand around my throat squeezes to the point my vision starts to blur at the edges, and I begin to lose my fight. Every time he came here and I fought him, I knew I was only putting off the inevitable, but now it’s happening, I can feel my fight, my strength, draining from me.
“I’ve bided my time. I’ve waited until the perfect opportunity,” he slurs in my ear, “And I think today’s the day. It’s just a shame that little cunt isn’t here to watch.”
I try to scream but his dirty hand covers my mouth. I drag in as much air as I can through my nose while I have the chance.
“Shut the fuck up,” he barks, although I don’t think he really means it. He wants me to fight him.
All of a sudden, I’m moving, spinning and pushed up against the wall. His free hand tugs the top of my shirt harshly. Buttons ping off in all directions and his eyes darken as he takes in my lace bra. His tongue licks over his bottom lip.
I fight.
My arms fly towards his face and I manage to get a few hits and scratches in before his fist collides with my cheek. Burning pain radiates out from my eye socket and it feels immediately tight, like it’s started swelling.
I launch myself at him, but he easily overpowers me and it’s only seconds before he has me pinned to the floor. His hands encase my wrists and his thighs keep my legs from moving.
“You’re a fucking monster,” I shriek, but the only effect it has is to turn him on. His eyes blaze, pure evil mixed with unbidden lust. Anger burns through me that I’ve allowed myself to get in this situation. His breath comes out in ragged pants and his spit lands on me with each one.
We’re in a deadlock as we stare at each other. That is, until there’s a noise at the front door and David comes stumbling in with a bag full of bottles.
“Fuck. Shit. Fuck,” he mutters, standing in the doorway, looking down at both of us.
“David, please.” I beg. “Do something.”
As I watch him, I know my pleading is going to go unheard, because I can see his walls coming down. Every time Griff’s around, he pulls this mask on and it’s like it stops him seeing and reacting to what’s happening.
“David,” I scream.
Griff’s delight that his brother isn’t going to do anything is just what I need, because he releases my wrist and I get another go at his face. My nails drag down his cheek and I feel his skin collect.
“Bitch,” he roars before I feel his retaliation. My jaw snaps to the side and blood trickles down my chin.
“David,” I sob, my body exhausted. Weeks of fear and looking over my shoulder have caught up with me as I lay here, trapped under the reason for my torment.
“That pussy’s not going to help. He’s going to watch, aren’t you?” he taunts, risking a look over his shoulder. “You remember last time,bro?Wasn’t that fun? At least this one’s my type.”
I watch the blood drain out of David’s face before he turns and runs, dropping the bag. The bottles fall. Some roll across the floor in our direction, others smash, and the smell of alcohol fills the room.
“You see? Fucking pussy. He enjoyed it last time.”
