Thug Love

3 - Dangerous Promises

The next few days passed slowly, each one harder to get through than the last. Damon was growing more volatile, his anger flaring up over the smallest things. Every misplaced item or wrong word seemed to set him off, and she found herself walking on eggshells, doing everything in her power to avoid his wrath. But somehow, no matter what she did, it was never enough.

It was late one night, and Damon had finally stormed off, leaving her alone in the quiet apartment. She sat on the edge of the couch, her mind replaying their fight, her heart pounding with lingering anxiety. She wondered how much longer she could live like this, how many more nights she could take of feeling trapped and afraid. Her fingers reached into her pocket, and she found herself clutching the slip of paper Troy had given her, tracing the numbers as if they held some secret strength.

Without thinking, she pulled out her phone and dialed his number. She hadn't meant to call him, hadn't meant to reach out at all, but the feeling of loneliness was overwhelming, and before she knew it, the line was ringing.

"Hello?" His voice was soft, familiar, and immediately comforting.

She hesitated, her breath catching. "Troy... it's me."

There was a pause, and then his voice softened even more. "Are you okay?"

For a moment, she was silent, unsure of what to say. She didn't want to admit how bad things had gotten, didn't want him to know just how broken she felt. But something in his voice, in the quiet patience with which he waited, made her feel like she could tell him anything.

"I just..." she started, her voice trembling. "I just needed someone to talk to."

"I'm here," he replied simply, and in those two words, she felt a wave of relief wash over her. She didn't have to explain herself, didn't have to pretend. He was there, and that was enough.

They talked for hours, her voice soft and hesitant at first, but growing stronger with each word. She told him about Damon, about the way he controlled every part of her life, how he seemed to delight in tearing her down. She confessed things she hadn't even admitted to herself, and Troy listened, his voice calm and steady, offering words of comfort and understanding.

"I wish you could see yourself the way I see you," he murmured at one point, his voice filled with a quiet intensity that made her heart ache.

She closed her eyes, letting his words wash over her. For the first time, she felt like she was more than just a shadow, more than just someone to be controlled and belittled. She felt like she mattered.

By the time they hung up, dawn was beginning to break, casting a soft, golden light over the room. She sat in the silence, her heart lighter than it had been in months. The world felt different somehow, brighter, as if there was finally a glimmer of hope. And in that moment, she knew that no matter how hard things got, she wasn't alone.

A few days later, she found herself at a small, dimly lit café on the edge of town. She had never been there before, but Troy had suggested it, saying it was a quiet place where they could talk without anyone bothering them. She sat in a booth by the window, nervously twisting her fingers as she waited.

When Troy walked in, her heart skipped a beat. He looked calm, his expression relaxed, but there was a strength in his gaze that made her feel safe. He slid into the booth across from her, offering her a small smile.

"I'm glad you came," he said, his voice warm.

She nodded, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks. "I... I needed to get out of there," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

They sat in silence for a moment, the noise of the café fading into the background. She felt his eyes on her, steady and unwavering, and she realized that he saw her—not the broken, fragile person she felt like, but something more. It was both comforting and terrifying, this feeling of being truly seen.

"I meant what I said," he murmured, his voice soft. "You deserve better than this."

She looked away, her fingers tracing patterns on the table. "It's not that simple," she whispered, the weight of her words heavy in the air.

"Maybe not," he agreed, his voice calm. "But that doesn't mean you don't deserve it."

She looked up, meeting his gaze, and for the first time, she felt a spark of courage, a small voice inside her that whispered she could be more than this. She could have more.

They met like that a few more times, always in secret, always in quiet places where no one would find them. Each meeting felt like a small escape, a brief moment of peace in an otherwise chaotic life. She found herself looking forward to those moments, to the way Troy made her feel—safe, valued, understood.

One evening, as they sat together in the dim light of a small café, he reached across the table, his fingers brushing against hers. She felt a spark, a warmth that spread through her, and for a moment, everything else faded away.

"I don't want you to get hurt," he said, his voice low and serious. "I know Damon, and I know what he's capable of."

Her heart raced, a mixture of fear and longing swirling within her. "I can handle it," she replied, though her voice wavered.

He shook his head, his gaze intense. "You shouldn't have to."

The words hung in the air, a quiet promise, a reminder that she didn't have to face this alone. She looked at him, her heart pounding, and in that moment, she knew that he would do anything to protect her.

But as much as she wanted to believe in this newfound hope, reality had a way of crashing back down. Damon's anger grew more intense, his control tightening around her like a vice. He seemed to sense her slipping away, and he fought harder to keep her under his thumb, each word, each action meant to remind her that she was his, that she would never escape.

One night, after another argument that left her shaken and exhausted, she found herself standing in the bathroom, staring at her reflection. Her face looked hollow, her eyes filled with a sadness that went deeper than anything she could put into words. She thought of Troy, of his kindness, of the way he made her feel like she was worth something. And in that moment, she realized she couldn't keep living like this.

She picked up her phone, her hands trembling, and dialed his number. He answered on the first ring, his voice calm and steady, a lifeline in the darkness.

"I can't do this anymore," she whispered, her voice breaking.

There was a pause, and then he replied, his voice filled with quiet determination. "Then let me help you."

They met that night, in the quiet darkness of a deserted parking lot. He held her close, his arms wrapped around her, and for the first time in a long time, she felt safe. He promised her that he would do whatever it took to protect her, that she didn't have to face this alone.

"I'll take care of you," he murmured, his voice a soft vow. "You don't have to go back."

She looked up at him, her heart aching with a mixture of fear and hope. She knew it wouldn't be easy, that leaving Damon would be dangerous, that there would be consequences. But with Troy by her side, she felt like maybe, just maybe, she could finally break free.