Saving Taylor (A Patrick Kane Story)

Chapter Two

"Do you love me, Joe?" My arms went around his neck, and I started playing with the end of the collar of his plaid shirt.

His eyes started to crinkle as he smiled, "More than anything."

My cheeks slowly turned into a warm red shade as I looked away from his eyes.

He leaned down and softly kissed my lips and I felt the scratchiness of his cheek rubbing against mine. I wrapped my arms around his waist and breathed in the scent of his shirt.

"I will never hurt you. I promise," Joe whispered.

Then, the dream changed.

At the kitchen table of the apartment building I shared with Joe, I was looking through one of my textbooks studying for finals. I heard the keys jingle as the door opened and a drunken Joe stumbled in.

"Hey, Taywhore," Joe hiccupped leaning over and kissing my cheek.

"Why do you always have to call me that?" I exclaimed, jumping out of my seat.

He took a step closer to me and looked down into my eyes. As he breathed, I could smell a hint of alcohol and desperation.

"I can do what I want," he whispered leaning his face in and giving me a forceful kiss.

"No," I pleaded, "Stop, pleas-"

He didn't stop.

"Get off of me!" I yelled pushing him away.

"Did you just tell me no?" He had a violent look in his eyes as his hands balled up into fists.

My heart began to race unsure of what he was going to do next. "Yeah I did, Joe. I don't like to be called a whore and I'm not going to let you keep calling me that."

The lines of his face smoothed out a little bit, and my heartbeat slowed to a regular pulse as I let out a sigh of relief. I turned to sit back down and suddenly felt a hand connect with the side of my cheek. I fell into the table, and it collapsed in half, scraping my face.

Feeling pain race throughout my body, I slowly began to get up using the chair as a guide. I couldn't stop the tears from strolling down my face. As I reached up to wipe them, a stream of blood dripped down my arm.

I glanced at the reflection of the microwave and was startled by what I saw. There was a big gash right above my left eyebrow that made a trail of blood drip down the left half of my face. My right cheek where he hit me was as red as a tomato, and I was sure there was going to be a bruise there later.

Turning around, I stared right into his eyes, and whimpered, "Look at what you've done." What scared me even more was the lack of sorrow reflected upon his face at what he did. I stormed right past him and went out the door. I never stopped running.
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"Taylor? Taylor? Taylor!" Becca screamed shaking me.

I jolted awake to my hot tears and fast breathing. Sitting up, I combed through my blond hair with my fingers. "Why does this keep happening to me?" I trembled as I put my head in between my knees. Becca leaned her head on my shoulder, "I honestly think that if my boyfriend beat me I would have nightmares, too."

I glanced quickly at the alarm clock on my nightstand. Ugh, 5:50 in the morning. This should be illegal. "We should probably start getting ready," I yawned as I pulled back the covers.

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I used both feet to stand up, and instead almost fell over. I leaned on my left foot and sat back down. Glancing at my foot, I almost passed out after I saw how swollen it was. The once small ankle was swelling out into the size of an orange with an ugly black and blue tint to it.