Page 118 of Boost

I fidgeted. I knew I wasn’t going to like what I was about to hear, and that made me twitchy and unable to get comfortable. On an exasperated huff, I sat forward again and braced my elbows on my knees. I stilled the nanosecond Greer began to speak.

“It wasn’t beatings, but it still hurt. We moved in together after college, and I took a gap year to figure out what I wanted to do. At first I enjoyed it a little rough during-”

“You can say it, mamacita. You liked rough sex. Who doesn’t,” I stated a-matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, and I still do.” Her smile turned genuine for a second before fading again. “It started off good between Bryce and I; the play was only limited to the bedroom. But one day he took it a step too far by biting my nipple so hard I lashed out from the unexpected pain. Looking back, I should have packed my bags and left that day—it was the day our relationship took a turn for the worst.

“I accidentally slapped him across the side of the head, and I’ll never forget the instant hatred I saw in his eyes. It was as if I’d hit a switch and he’d instantly become a different person. He pressed his hand to my mouth and nose until I fought to breathe. He seemed to get a kick out of it, and he was extra rough while we had sex that night—covering my face for longer each time and making me fight harder for air as the episode went on.”

A bitter ball of dread clenched in my stomach. I saw the writing on the wall, but was unable to stop Greer purging her suffering.

“Afterward we were in the bathroom together and he came up behind me and slapped me across the back of the head. When I cried out and asked him what the hell he was doing, he laughed and said I’d done it to him, so he was making it even.

“He didn’t touch me or look at me for the rest of the night, but in the morning woke me with a coffee and breakfast, apologizing profusely for his actions. He was so caring…”

Greer stopped and bit back the emotions that poured from her soul. It had me clamping down on my own reactions and running a hand over my face in disbelief.

“Would you like a drink?” I offered. “Another tequila?

“No, but thank you. I’ve had enough, and I just want to get this over with.”

I hummed. I knewthatfeeling.

“For the next few days it was fine; even our sex returned to normal. I mean, I was happy—weseemed happy again. But then he went to the pub that weekend and came home drunk... I wouldn’t go so far as classing it as rape, but it wasn’t pleasant.”

“Fuck, Greer!” I snapped to my feet and paced to the window and back to get my anger in-check. Her recount was making me feel physically ill and helpless—two things I couldn’t handle.

“Should I stop?”

I cut my gaze back to her face, stricken with worry overmyemotional state. Shaking my head, I leaned over her briefly to drop a kiss to the top of her head, then withdrew back to the couch.

“No, baby girl. As long as you’re okay, then continue.”

Greer gave a small nod, tucked her knees up, and wrapped her arms around them. It made her look so small, so fragile, but her voice held renewed strength.

“The next day was the same—he woke up late, hungover and feeling sorry for himself, then even more sorry when he remembered that he’d spanked me until I bruised. I couldn’t sit comfortably for almost a week.”

The already dark cloud above my head blackened impossibly further. This cunt needed a serious fucking beating.

“He groveled and apologized, excusing his actions by saying it was the rum he’d been bought by a friend, and that, of course, it wouldn’t happen again. Fuck, saying this all out-loud makes me feel like such a fool. I didn’tseeall the warning signs, even when they were right in front of my face. I was so naïve!”

“You were young, Greer,” I reasoned.

She hummed. “Eighteen-nineteen. Anyway, over the next few weeks I walked on egg-shells around him, consciously taking extra care to not do or say anything that could upset him. That worked up until I got my period and denied him sex. He took it anyway, berated me for making a mess over the sheets, belittled me for having blood all down my thighs, and ranted about how disgusting I was. He refused to sleep in our bed that night, instead took the couch. Come morning, I expected things to have smoothed over again, but it was like he festered in anger overnight and still couldn’t stand the sight of me in the morning.

“That’s when the shoving and yanking me around started. He began to pinch the tender skin under my arms and between my legs. Or, grab the little roll on my waist and squeezing until I yelped. I still remember the wickedness in his laugh. That was when it really started to scare me.”

I rose to my feet again and brought her back a bottle of water from the fridge—anything to distance myself from her torment while letting her know that I cared for her beyond words could describe.

She accepted it with a grateful smile and took a sip. “The biting only got worse, and whatever he did, he did it in places that were hidden under my clothes. In a way, the physical abuse was easiest to hide—it was the mental abuse that really tore me down. The degrading things he said to me, called me, made me do…” She looked away and blinked hard. A tear broke free but was quickly dashed away.

“I’d known him in high-school and I still can’t believe he treated me the way he did after being so sweet to begin with. I’m so thankful that Charmaine—the friend who waited tables with me—found me in the bathroom that day. The previous night had been horrific… He came home and demanded sex. Took me from behind while pulling on my hair so damn hard it put my neck out, all the while spanking me and telling me how he’d been fucking another woman behind my back since we left school. All the resentment, the anger, the intolerance… it suddenly all made sense.”

My chest burned to the point I had to breathe away another wash of nausea. Unable to stand her being out of reach any longer, I erased the short space between us and dropped to my knees between her feet.

“Don’t you dare go making excuses for him. You’re breaking my heart, baby girl, tell me how I can fix this.”

She shook her head. “Just listening—knowing what I went through—is enough. I would have told you at some point down the track once our relationship became serious, but I’m glad it’s now, rather than later.”

---