Page 23 of Voracious

He pulls away just before I vomit all over his car.

8

STACEY

The following two weeks are a nightmare.

I don’t leave the manor to see my friends or attend the studio. I don’t even step onto the grounds because Nora has therapists coming in and out, my phone confiscated, and Chris refuses to leave my side. Everyone thinks he’s being a sweet, caring big brother; he even told Kyle he’d take time off work, so he doesn’t need to.

My body is healing. The swelling on my face is gone, my lips are no longer cracked and split, and the bruises that are visible are barely there. He hasn’t beat me further, but something far worse has replaced his punches and slaps. Something that has me contemplating death.

His touch. His pleads for me to love him back. Forced kisses and holding me while he falls asleep in my bed. Every. Single. Night.

Despite physically being okay, I’m contemplating not being here anymore.

I’ve thought about dying once.

Once.

I stood at a bridge, wondering if I’d die on the way down to the cold water below. It’s usually a lie when they say someone dies on the way down. They had a heart attack, so they didn’t feel pain – it’s more of a comfort to the loved ones than anything else. But that’s not always the case. When someone jumps, they hit the water with such a force that it’s just like hitting solid ground. They break their bones, shatter their skull, turn the water red with their blood, and if they’re unlucky enough, they’ll survive just long enough to feel it all.

That could’ve been me. But someone talked me down.

I don’t think anyone could talk me down now. I wish I’d leaped off when I had the chance, but knowing my luck, Chris would follow me to hell itself and still force me to touch him.

My bedroom door opens, and Chris walks in with a tray of food, setting it down on my bedside table. “Eat up. You’re going back to class tonight and then we’re going out.”

“You said I wasn’t going to go back,” I say – monotone. “You even made me tell my friends I was going away for a month before giving your mother my phone.”

“She’sourmother. And I couldn’t be fucked with them trying to find you. You’re mine – no one else should be vying for your attention.”

I roll my eyes, which earns me a scowl.

“Don’t start your childish bullshit. Eat, get dressed and I’ll drop you off. The hour of class is the only courtesy I’ll grant you. Tell your friends you were at the lodge.”

Chris walks to my wardrobe and starts tossing clothes out before landing on something that has him pausing. “This one. Wear this dress.”

It’s short and red and revealing. “What kind of party are we going to?”

“It’s a little fancy, an adult entertainment-type place. But I want you in this. I want easy access.”

My stomach curdles. “You said you wouldn’t touch me there without my consent.”

It’s the only thing he’s giving me control of. I have no say when it comes to him finding his release using my hand. He’s taken a liking to repeating what happened in the car, which usually results in me vomiting or slapping him across the face.

He told me to get on my knees last night, and the only reason he didn’t succeed in shoving me to the ground was that one of his friends called about a party – I assume the one we’re going to tonight.

“I’ll be drunk. I’ll probably forget about that little rule when I see you in this.”

He hangs the dress up next to my vanity table then pulls off his shirt and tosses it aside. He ruffles his blonde hair and pushes it back, gesturing to my bathroom door. “I’m going to shower. Come with me.”

My lips flatten. “No.”

He sighs and unbuttons his trousers, siding them down his legs and kicking them off. I look away as he removes his boxers, and I stare at the fork on the plate of food he brought me and contemplate sticking it in his neck.

Knowing him, he’d survive and make my life even more hell.

An hour later, he takes me to the studio, but I’m already late for class. He issues his usual command to behave and says he’ll pick me up while tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. I knock his hand away and give him a stern look. “Don’t touch me.”

---