The Neverending Hangover

Chapter Twenty-Four

I woke up in Rev's arms, feeling exhausted and sore still, listening to his even breathing and feeling his heart beat under my cheek. Yesterday had taken a lot out of me. My heart was breaking over how badly Brad had treated me, and how badly I must have hurt him for him to act that way.

Why did I bring out the worst in my boyfriends?  Would Rev become like that eventually, too?

Maybe I should be alone. Maybe I should borrow money from Andy, get my own place, and stay celibate and single forever.

The nightmare was brutal. It was a memory of a time I hadn't done something Jay had expected me to. It was a little thing, but he took it as disrespect in front of his friends, and nothing infuriated him more.

We were at a party at a supporter's summer home on the lake. I was talking to his young wife, just a few years older than me, and we were having a fun conversation about music. It wasn't often I enjoyed talking to anyone at these parties.

Jay had walked past, and casually handed me his glass, meaning I was supposed to get him another drink.  I set it on the table next to me instead, and kept talking to her. Thirty minutes later he came back and whispered in my ear, "I'm still waiting for my drink".

"Sorry, I was talking and didn't realize", I had said, picking up the glass and turning to take care of it.

He stopped me with a hand on my arm.

"It's too late, doll", he said quietly in a tone that made shivers run down my spine. "We'll talk about this at home".

At that point, Jay had never actually beaten me, but he was controlling and frequently rough with me. We had been together around nine months then, and I knew I was in trouble but I had no idea how much. I tried to stay calm and got enough whiskey in me that I hopefully could handle whatever was coming.

On the way home he didn't say one word to me. When we got upstairs, I walked into the bedroom and he shut the door behind us.

I turned to him and saw blinding light as he punched me directly in the eye. Then he punched me in the stomach. The wind was completely knocked out of me. He grabbed me by my hair and smashed my forehead against the door frame. I couldn't even breathe to scream.

He ripped all of my clothes off and threw me face first on the bed. I had gotten back enough ability to breathe back that I tried to fight him, but he was strong and I hadn't had the training I did now. He had a fist full of my hair and had my face pressed into the bed so hard that I was almost suffocating.

Then he raped me. I was praying I would just pass out but I never did. I was conscious while smothering, and suffering from pain and humiliation the entire time.

When he was finished, he pulled me up by my hair and made me look at him.

"What do you do the next time I hand you an empty glass?", he asked me.

"Fuck you", I said.

He slammed my head against the night stand and I lost consciousness. When I came to, I was lying naked on the floor next to the bed and he was in it.

Asleep.

Like he hadn't just raped and nearly killed me. Like I wasn't laying next to him on the floor in puddles of congealed blood from my head and my vagina.

That terrified me worse than what he had just done to me. I sat up slowly and carefully. Everything hurt, and I was dizzy and nauseous. I crawled to the bathroom, shut the door quietly, and threw up in the toilet.

Then I got myself through a shower by sitting the whole time. I was afraid I would pass out if I stood.

I turned off the water and heard the bathroom door click open.  My heart stopped.  He yanked open the shower curtain and lifted me to my feet by my arms. Gently. Then he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around me.