A/N ***TRIGGER WARNING***
You guys know the drill, this isn't a happy chapter and deals with domestic violence, you're welcome to DM me and I'll tell you the coles notes and important bits.
The worn wood floorboard creaks underfoot, freezing me in place. My heart races as my eyes automatically shift to the lazy boy chair in the living room to see if I've drawn HIS attention.
Fortunately, he sits there with his back to me, buried in his phone as the football game blares over the TV. I let out a shaky breath, saying a silent thank you to whoever helped that slip by.
Today his team is winning... That's good.
My attention shifts to the clock beside the fridge, warning me I have less than an hour until his friend shows up. I tiptoe around the kitchen, completing the list he left me.
The hard, cold floor makes my toes ache but it's safer to go barefoot. Shoes make too much noise and socks make me careless of the squeaky floorboards.
I finish chopping the veggies and sprinkle the seasoned beef and cheese over the tortilla chips before slipping the pan into the oven. Hands-on my hips nearly make me jump out of my skin as I dig my fingernails into the countertop to steady myself.
"Smells good Sugar," he mumbles, a rare compliment.
"T-thanks," I stammer, trying to ignore his hands as they inch south. My stomach churns, not wanting his attention today but knowing if I refuse him I'll be in for a rough night.
"Your friend will be here-"
"He's running late," he scolds, sending a shiver down my spine. My heart races in my throat as he pushes me over the counter. I close my eyes tightly as he pushes my skirt up.
Pressure on my wrist proceeds calming energy as it floods me, pushing the fear back down to a manageable level. 'Move on,' floats through my mind and I latch onto the voice like a lifeline, focusing all of my attention on it.
The TV fades away and so does he, leaving me feeling like I'm floating. Suddenly, I hit the floor hard, landing in a heap.
"Miserable bitch." He sneers, followed by a crack and blinding pain that leaves me gasping and hunched over.
Two more cracks of the belt leave me curled up in a ball on my side, silent tears streaming down my cheeks as the smell of blood fills my nose. Metal clunks on the floor beside my head as he grabs a fistful of my hair.
"Look at the mess you made, look at it!" He snaps, shoving the bloody belt buckle in front of my face.
"I'm sorry," I whimper, trembling in his hold.
His eyes soften for a moment and he sighs. "Why do you make me punish you, Sugar?" He mumbles, letting go of my hair and brushing my face clean.
"I'm so sorry," I sob, begging him to believe me. "I'll be better, I promise."
"I know you will," he whispers, kissing my forehead. "You know I love you right?" I instantly nod, knowing that it's the right answer. "This hurts me more than you..."
"I know," I mumble. "I'll do better, I'm sorry."
He stands, his instance of mercy over and glares down at me. "Clean this shit up, we have guests tomorrow and we need to make a good impression," he orders before storming out.
I curl back into a ball and let out the sobs I held back, clutching my shredded shirt to my chest. Eventually, I cry myself out and the cold gets to me, making me shiver.
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