Page 59 of Lavender Moon

“But why, honey?” His shoulders drop, and he’s back to harmless Carter again. “I don’t get why you’re looking at me like I’m some monster.”

“Because you put me through a lot of mental abuse, and I don’t want you interacting with me anymore,” I explain, clenching every muscle in my body in an effort to keep my voice from quaking. “And you shouldn’t be here because you’re violating a court order not to–”

“Oh yeah…” he rolls his eyes cynically. Mean Carter is back, taunting me with venom in his voice. “The no contact order. That was really fun to get by the way. Made me feel like even more of an idiot than the day you left me, holding your grandmother’s hand,” he nods, before straightening his back. “Let me ask you something… do you remember the times you used to love when I would do this? When I would just show up at your dorm or surprise you after class? You’d always smile so beautifully when you saw me because you thought it was sweet. That’s the kind of love I showed you, and you threw it back in my face!” he practically spits out. “You never appreciated the little things or the big things, or the monumental things like giving you the time and space from me you so desperately craved!” His fury rises another level with each word that passes his lips, and he takes several swift strides towards me.

“Stay away!” The words come out grated with fear as I hold my hand out. This is what finally makes a shadow fall over those eyes, one I’m eerily familiar with.

“I’ve stayed away long enough, I think.” He takes hold of my face in both hands and his touch is surprisingly gentle which makes me panicky and sick. Not that I want him to hurt me, but the confusion of his scathing words with his tender touch are messing with my mind and making my stomach turn over.

I want to scream at him that I’m married to a man that will beat the shit out of him for even touching me, but I’m terrified to even speak, let alone say something that will stoke the flames of his rage. Tears spring to the corners of my eyes and leak out down my cheeks, betraying the brave front I was trying to put on.

“Luna,” he whispers calmly, and it petrifies me as he attentively smooths the tears from my face with his thumbs. “Please don’t do this… don’t push me away. Try to see this as a good thing. Look how much you’re loved.”

“Stop it,” I squeak out in a whisper.

“If you would just quit acting so stubborn and realize a good thing when you have it, this would be so much easier,” he continues. “We can go back to being happy.”

I want Kaleb. I’m happy with Kaleb, and I want him here this second. I want him to hold me and keep me safe from all of this. But he’s not here… so I need to protect myself.

“Get away!” I release a strangled scream as I shove as hard as I can, but he comes right back at me like a pendulum, this time taking hold of my arm and slinging me around to slam my back against my door. My eyes fly open at the shock of the impact – as well as the line he just crossed. When we were together before, he would always act aggressive but he never actually got physical.

“What do I have to do to get through to you?!” he shouts in my face and I let out a whimper, as I can no longer care about feeling mortified. “There’s got to be something wrong with you that you don’t want me, you ungrateful little bitch!” he hisses at me.

“You’re hurting me!” I yell and continue to struggle against him. With one hand still clutching my phone, I press them both against his chest, pushing with all my might to get him away from me.

“Good!” he shouts in my face again. “Maybe something will finally sink in!

“Get off me, you’re scaring me! Help!” I scream, now desperate for anyone in the building or walking by on the street to hear me.

His hand catches mine as I slap at his chest, and a wicked smile pulls at the corners of his mouth. “Finally, look at you, giving a shit.” With that, he squeezes my hand and bends, causing a sharp, shattering pain to shoot from my fingers and up my arm.

An ear-splitting shriek tears from my throat at the pain.

Releasing my hand and leaving my last two fingers throbbing, he takes hold of both of my arms. The shock of the pain has made me slightly dizzy, but I keep fighting, only pushing and hitting at him with one hand now as I baby the other close to my chest. I want to do what I’d learned once on a YouTube video – to drop my weight – but with the way he has me pinned it’s virtually impossible.

Running out of ideas, I raise my leg and dig my boot into his stomach and shove him away. It’s only a foot or two, and only for a second, but it’s enough time and space for me to squirm away from the door in the hopes of being able to whirl around and turn the lock over, but Carter is back on me in a blink.

“Good idea,” he snarls. “Let’s take this inside.” He belts one arm around me and reaches for the key to turn it himself.

“No!” I cry out, but this time, I am able to lower my center of gravity, lifting my feet out from under me and letting myself drop. Not expecting that, Carter loses his hold on me and I slip from his arm. Crouched down, I scramble for the steps, seeing it as my only way out, despite how many there are of them.

With my good hand, I pull myself up by the banister but lose my grip on my phone, which goes clattering down a few stairs.

I don’t even make it two steps down before Carters hands are on me again, but I don’t stop struggling and fighting.

“No you don’t,” he growls, turning me to face him again. We’re facing each other sideways on the stairs. “You’re not leaving. You’re not leaving again! You’re mine!”

In the midst of this frightening chaos, a vision of Kaleb on the video chat flickers through my mind.

I hate not being able to protect what’s mine.

It’s crazy how after everything that’s happened in the last five minutes that what gets under my skin and embeds itself in my being is Carter calling me his.

I’m Kaleb’s. I belong to him.

“I am not yours!” I scream as loud as I can. “I’ve always belonged to someone else you fucking piece of shit!”

I watch the fire ignite in his eyes as he clenches his jaw, staring daggers at me as if with my outburst a decision has been made. The look of malice in those hard-set eyes portrays a sense of finality as he gives my arms one more hard squeeze and swings ninety degrees, putting himself uphill from me and my back facing the descent of stairs.

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