Black Iris

I'm done.

Iris

After the shit show that was the first psych, the other one was honestly a breath of fresh air.

Her report was much less scathing, and she seemed a lot more reasonable. Which wasn't necessarily good for Blake.

Johansson tried to poke her a little, but she did not budge. After a series of questions that led no where, he gave in and handed the questioning to Ophelia's team. Robinson was not as harsh this time. She didn't need to be. This doctor was on their side.

After her questioning, the court proceedings ended for the day, and we all filed out. Ophelia looked peeved, which was surprising given how the day went. Her lawyer was absolutely killing it.

We had a quick debrief with Johansson and the team, who were not happy with how the day went, but confident they would get it back tomorrow, with their plan of attack for the character witnesses. I felt sick thinking about it, the awful plan I'd helped concoct. Use Jordan to make Ophelia look unreliable. Poke and prod until they bled. Get her to talk about the abuse she'd witnessed Ophelia take at the hands of her parents.

Then, prod about the other scars.

The ones I'd seen when Ophelia stayed over. The faint ones along her arms. That Blake hadn't put there.

I felt sick that I'd been the one to tell Blake.

But that was tomorrows problem. For today, I had another problem.

The fuming Blake standing beside me.

He was silent until we got to the car. When we climbed in, he started ranting. Complaining about the lawyers, his own and then Ophelia's, launching into a conspiracy theory that everyone was against him.

He was lucid.

And I was scared. Because when Blake got angry, he took it out on me. Even before we started playing with our dynamic, he would get angry at something or another and fight with me to take out his anger. Every so often he would get physical, but never so extreme that I got concerned. Then, after, it was like the flood gates opened and suddenly everything was fair game for him.

It was as he was launching into a long winded rant about how Ophelia's lawyer was a frigid bitch that deserved to be put in her place that I thought, I need to get out of here.

I need to get away from him before this turns on me.

Because it would, and I knew that it would. Especially with my stunt that morning, Blake was pointed and ready, waiting for a target. And I was standing in the middle of the range.

"Can I stay with my parents tonight?" I asked quietly.

He just kept talking, so I cleared my throat and said it louder.

"Blake. I want to stay with my parents tonight."

"Huh? No." He said.

"What?" I replied

"I said no, it's not happening." He snapped. "End of discussion."

"Why not?" I asked, trying not to sound too confrontational.

"What part of end of discussion do you not understand, pet?" He mocked. "I want you with me tonight."

Then, in an act that made my skin crawl, he would placed a hand over my leg, gripping the skin. I don't know if he meant it suggestively, but given his anger before, I flinched and pulled away.

His face went dark. "What, are you fucking scared of me now? Certainly didn't seem that way this morning, did it?"

Fuck, here it came.