Page 11 of Lost in Her
“Please just go,” I plead, pointing at the open door.
I look into his eyes as he searches mine.I don’t know what he is searching for, but whatever it is, he isn’t going to find it.I have nothing left, not for him and not for me.He slowly shakes his head.“I am not leaving you,” he says so softly I feel my heart ache.
But my anxiety and panic quickly turn into anger, rage.pure rage.I will say whatever I need to get him to leave.“Ethan, either leave or fuck me,” I demand.I know what men want.They want to fuck and leave or fuck and beat me.That is all the men have done in my life, including my father.
Ethan can’t be that different from them.I feel the difference, but I don’t believe him.I don’t believe it.I know what men can do to women, what they are willing to do to get off and be in control.All men, at their core, are bad abusers, but some are better at hiding it than others are.I have seen both kinds.
I am fucking terrified right now, but I need to know what he wants.No one just does these things out of the kindness of their heart.They gave me an apartment and all these things for free.Really?Nothing in life is free.There is always a cost.
He takes a step into me, forcing me to take a step back.He moves again, keeping his eyes on me as he shakes his head.Once again, it forces me to take a step back.My back hits the wall.I am trapped.My heart races as I lift my hand and slap him across the face.Why, I don’t know, but whatever the fuck he wants, I just want him to get it over with and do whatever he is going to do to me.
The slap sound echoes in the bathroom, but he doesn’t say a damn word as he closes the rest of the distance between us.His chest is now against mine.I lift my hand to slap him again, but before my hand can contact his face, he grabs onto my wrist and quickly pins it to the wall next to my head.
I lift my free hand to try to push him back, but he grabs onto my wrist and pins that hand firmly against the wall next to my head.My breathing is unsteady and rapid as I keep my eyes on him.
“Stop trying to hit me,” he grinds out through gritted teeth.
“Then leave!”I scream, feeling my entire body starting to shake against his.His scent is starting to consume me.He smells like freshly fallen rain.
“No,” he whispers, never taking his eyes off me.
“Please,” I scream as the tears escape my eyes and roll down my face.He stands still, his body now firmly against mine, pinning me between him and the wall.
“I am not them, Jennifer,” he states in a low, calm voice.I can hear the pain in his tone.His words repeat over and repeatedly on a never-ending loop.
I am not them, Jennifer.I am not them, Jennifer.
“All men are like them,” I whisper back, barely able to hear myself.
His eyes continue to stay locked on mine.“No, we aren’t,” he says, making my heart sink.
“Men only want one thing, Ethan,” I inform him, allowing more tears to escape my eyes and roll down my face.My father has taught me that men only want one thing, and me, well, I am only good for one thing—to be used and abused.He made sure that I got good at it.He has made sure that I am perfect in his eyes, and I do as I am told.
Ethan takes a deep breath.“I am not leaving, and I am not going to fuck you.I am going to help you,” he whispers.
“No one can help me,” I say, shaky and uncertain, feeling more vulnerable, more exposed.His eyes see right through me, straight to my soul, right to the open wounds that I have been able to hide so well until him.Why?Why him?
“I can if you let me, Hon,” he assures, leaning his face less than an inch away from mine.I feel his breath against my skin, making my heart race for a whole new reason.Now I am the one searching his eyes.There is no anger or rage, only worry and concern, but underneath all of that, I see desire and longing, but it is different than the other men.He is different.
I feel my heart race.Racing because of where I am.Racing because I feel his body against mine.Racing from the nickname he has called me.Racing because I want so fucking badly to be normal.I want so badly for this to be real even after what I have said, even after his having to hold my hair back so I can throw up.He is looking at me like this even after I slapped him and asked him to fuck me or leave.He is calm and not angry.
I lean in and connect my lips to his.I shouldn’t do this.We shouldn’t do this.I shouldn’t want to do this, but I can’t escape how he is making me feel at this moment.I am not an object to be used and abused.I am just a girl, and he is just a guy.
His lips are soft against mine, gentle and intoxicating.
Ethan quickly pulls back just enough to look at me.His eyes rapidly search mine.I can see the conflict in his eyes, the worry and concern.“Jenn,” he whispers my name in such a way that my heart melts.
“Ethan,” I whisper back.I don’t know what else to say.I am damaged, broken, shattered like a vase that can’t get put back together again, or so I thought, or so my father has told me.He reminded me daily that no man would really want me and that I am only good for one thing, but with Ethan right now, I feel like some pieces are being glued together.Ethan is silencing the voices inside my head.The voices I have believed my whole life.he makes them quiet.He takes away their power and replaces it with his own.
He says he wants to help me.He says he doesn’t want to leave.Fine, fine, I give in.I thought my walls were high enough that my defenses were strong enough, but Ethan has shown me in this small amount of time that around him, it doesn’t matter how high my walls are or how many fucking defenses I have up.He can crash through them with one word, look, touch, and kiss.
I need him to make me forget, even if it’s for a second.I need him to help me forget that I was used for sex, that my father only wants one thing from me, and that all the men in my life have hurt me.I need him to make me forget that I am me.
‘We shouldn’t,” he whispers.I can tell he is talking to himself more than he is talking to me.He is trying to convince both of us of something I don’t think either of us truly believes.We know it.I have said it myself, but it doesn’t matter.The line has been crossed, and I don’t think I want to go back.I don’t think I could.He tightens his grip on my wrists, letting me know that he doesn’t want to leave.He doesn’t want me to leave.He wants this.He wants this like I do, even if it’s wrong, even if it’s completely fucking twisted.
“I know.”I continue to look into his eyes, pleading with him, begging him.I see my body starting to shake a little more.My stomach is tightening into knots, letting me know that my body is not done, that I am not done being a slave to the drugs I never wanted but have learned to love.
A second later, he leans back in, smashing his lips to mine.His body leans into mine, stopping my body from shaking.I feel him position his legs between mine, forcing me to open them for him.I do.He doesn’t have to try again.I am open for him even though I tried not to be.I tried to push him away with my anger and salty words, but neither my anger nor my words got him to leave.He is not the type of man that scares easily.I can see that now.
