Electric Love

Chapter Nineteen

Trigger warning! The following chapter mentions abuse, drug usage and attempted suicide.

~Rayne's P.O.V~

"Can I be honest with you for a minute?" I asked, awaiting his answer via a simple nodding of his head, before I continued.

"My last relationship was... Very bad—toxic, deadly. We were together for years, and for about eighty percent of the relationship I was mentally, emotionally, and physically abused. But it wasn't always bad. In the beginning, everything was great. He was great... Until he wasn't. On the outside looking in, Collin was charming and sweet, a true gentleman. And he loved me. But once the doors closed and the people left, he turned into a completely different person, a real life monster."

I paused for a moment to look up at him, my eyes scanned his face. His hard-set eyes, furrowed brows, and clenched jaw all brought me back to the man I'd met last night. Not the Kaine I'd met in the bar, but the man who wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty. The man who would kill in a heartbeat with no remorse like he did that guy. He was angry. Whether his anger was directed to me or my words, was yet to be determined and after hesitating for a moment, I continued. I had to, I couldn't back out now.

"He's rich, a party boy through and through. He grew up being fed by a silver spoon, so he didn't take kindly to not getting his way. He didn't handle the word no very well. And that was in every aspect of life. That included our relationship. When we got together, I thought he'd at least slow down on the partying and everything that came with it. Before we were official, we were always at parties together, having fun, drinking all night, nursing hangovers every Saturday and Sunday morning. And when we finally did become an exclusive couple, he did slow down on the booze. He didn't drink as much, but he'd just replaced that with cocaine and Percocet's, sometimes heroin or even meth if he was feeling it at the time. Pretty much just whatever was readily available to him.

"He was addicted to the high and how powerful the drugs made him feel. How helpless I was against him when he was like that. At first it was just little jabs here and there about the way I looked, calling me names, or just acting so fucking disgusted to even look at me some days. I never understood why or how he went from being the sweetest most gentle man to giving out verbal lashings with such ease. I never understood what I'd done to make him switch up on me like that. After a few months, it wasn't just his words that hurt me. He backed those words up with a strong backhanded slap to the face, or grabbing me by the throat, spitting on me, gripping my hair so tightly that it fell out in chunks. Things that wouldn't leave a mark for long because he had to stay in character around everyone else. The loving, doting, boyfriend he portrayed himself as around our friends and families and he was damn good at pretending for them.

"Soon though, those things didn't even do enough to satisfy him, so he moved on to giving black eyes, fractured ribs, broken bones, you name it. And I was miserable. But I couldn't leave, I had tried a few times and wound up in the hospital for it each time. Needless to say, I'd learned my lesson. He told me on many different occasions just how worthless I was. How I was nothing without him and his money. And no one would miss me if one day I just vanished and that wasn't an empty threat. The last time, he put me in the hospital I was there for two weeks recovering. My parents visited one time during my stay. Scolded me for 'falling down the stairs' so much. That was always the excuse he gave them, and they believed him every single fucking time. I had nowhere to go, no one to help me. My family adored him and told me I was being selfish and ungrateful for wanting to leave. I mean, why would anyone want to leave such handsome, wealthy, young man? He had them all eating out of the palm of his hand with a couple weekend trips to the beach, spa days for my mom, tickets to any game of my dad's choice. The son they always wanted would never hit a woman." I mocked, clutching my figurative pearls, sneering.