For Keeps

18. Scarlett

Three years ago
I thought things had turned a corner. I thought he had changed.
I was wrong.

He stands over my body as I lie curled in a ball on the cream colored carpet, covering my head from an attack.
My ribs are on fire. I wonder if any are broken.
I'm not even sure what exactly set him off this time.
"Please stop." I beg. "I'm sorry."
He came in and started hitting me. He is drunk, I know that much.
"You're sorry? You should be! I know you want Landon!"
"Landon?"
"Our new neighbor. You want him."
"I do not."
"Yes you do, whore! He told me you helped him pick a new color for his bedroom!"
"Yes. He asked what a soothing color was and I said blues are good. That's it!"
I squeeze my eyes shut and wait for another hit. Nothing comes. I look up and he is sitting on the bed looking at his empty scotch glass. Before I know it, he throws it at the East wall and walks out, slamming the door behind him.
I wait a minute before crawling to the broken shards of glass.
'He's not the only one that can hurt you.' I grab a piece of glass and run it over each arm.
'Whore.'
His word echos in my brain.
Another slice. And another. Fuck him. Fuck my life. Fuck everything.
I lose count of how many times I rip into my flesh. I just know I feel so numb that it doesn't even hurt.
Blood covers my arms and shirt as I cry into my hands.
I barely register the door opening before he yells.
"Fuck! What did you do?" He yanks me up off the floor.
"I thought it would take away pain from the ribs you broke." I shrug.
"Fuck." He runs his hands through his hair.
"You're crazy." He shouts.
"Maybe it would be a good idea to let me go then." I say as I begin to get dizzy.
"No." He says with his back to me.
My vision starts going white and I can't feel my legs.
"Coop." I whisper. Then it's black.

It hurts to breath. Also to move.
I feel someone touching my arms but my eyes are still closed. I must have been out a while because I think it's dark out.
I brave a glance and I see Brady sitting next to me cleaning my arms.
I open my eyes all the way and he looks briefly at me.
"You have to stop doing this." He whispers.
"Why should I?"
"Because I hate having to clean up your blood."
"Talk to your friend." I glare.
He doesn't say anything, he just looks over to a sleeping Cooper.
"That stings." I say.
"Maybe you'll remember that next time you want to go all chop crazy on your arms." He says sternly.
"Then I'll just find another spot."
"Stop."
"Nope. Not until I'm dead."
"Don't say that." His eyes plead with mine.
"I didn't even do anything." I say as fresh tears flow down my cheeks.
"I know." He says.
We sit there in silence as he bandages my arms. He stands and starts grabbing stuff and I clear my throat.
"Could you- um. Well can you help me walk to the bathroom and then up to the spare bedroom?" I hesitantly ask.
"Bathroom yes." He looks at Cooper then back to me. "I'll help you."
I'm slow, he almost carries me to the bathroom, but waits outside as I get ready for bed. I look at the clock as it reads 12:27 AM.
"Why did it take so long to clean me up?" I ask.
"Cooper showered you then passed out. I just wanted to make sure you were okay." He shrugs his broad shoulders.
"Thanks." I say.
He ends up carrying me up the stairs and tucks me in.
"No bedtime story?" I joke as he turns out the night.
"I can sit in the chair if you want." He must sense I don't want to be alone.
"If it isn't too much trouble..."
"Scar, I just bandaged the worst cuts I've ever seen... I can sit with you and make sure you can sleep "
"I'm sorry." I say feeling embarrassed.
"I'm not mad at you." He says and plops down in the recliner in front of the window.
"Thank you." I whisper. I watch him nod his head before I close my eyes and drift off to sleep.

The next morning I wake up in our bed. Go figure. Cooper is sitting next to me watching TV.
I get up and walk to the bathroom without saying a word.
"Good morning."
I hear from behind me.
I roll my eyes even though I know he can't see me.
After I'm done with my morning routine I just stand there. I dread going back out into the bedroom, but I can't stay in here forever.
I exit the bathroom and make a b line for my closet.
I know he is watching me, waiting for me to say something, but I don't.
I get dressed and head to the kitchen where I make myself eggs and toast.
He emerges from the bedroom and wraps his arms around my waist.
"Can I help you?" I ask annoyed.
"I love you." He says simply.
I try to walk to the table but he holds on tight, making my ribs hurt.
"What?" I say. "You're hurting my ribs... again."
He let's go and I walk to the table.
"Scar..." he runs his hands through his hair, "I'm-"
"Sorry?" I finish for him. "I've heard that before."
"I know, but I am sorry." He looks at my bandaged arms. "Why?" He says pointing.
"Why not. You hurt me. Why can't I?"
"I don't want to hurt you."
"Then don't. It's simple. Just talk to me like a fucking adult if you have an issue."
"I'm so fucked up, Scar." He hangs his head.
"If you're looking for me to tell you you aren't, I won't."
"I'm sorry."
"Okay."
"Your arms are going to look... I don't know... ugly."
"Good. That's how you make me feel."
"I don't want you to feel ugly, you're beautiful."
Starting to get frustrated I stand and lift my shirt.
"This is beautiful? " I show him my bruised ribs.
"This?" I point to the scar on my eye brow.
"Or this?" I pull my sleeve on my shoulder down showing the scars from getting pushed into the mirror.
"I'm not beautiful." I say and stand up from the table. I throw my food away and walk back to the bedroom.
I pick out a long sleeved outfit, fix my hair, and makeup.
When I'm somewhat satisfied I walk to the living room and grab my purse.
"Where are you going?" Cooper stands from the couch.
"Shopping."
He looks at me like I've sprouted another head.
"Am I 'allowed' to go shopping?" I raise my eyebrow at him.
"Yes. As long as you aren't running."
"I'm too exhausted to run, especially since you would catch me, because I'm betting Brady will be in close proximity to me at all times."
"Can I come?"
"If you want." I sit on the couch and wait.
He is ready pretty quickly since he showered before I was awake, and we spend the day shopping.
"I'm so happy you wanted to go shopping. I love buying you things." He smiles as he lays the designer clothing on the bed.
"What can I say, I woke up today and felt like shopping." I smile back at him.
He comes over and gently kisses my lips.
"You're my whole world, Scar. I can't ever lose you. I promise this time I will change."
"Okay." I say and start walking out the bedroom door, "I was thinking about making that balsamic chicken you like, is that okay, baby?" I batt my long lashes at him.
"Okay as long as I can help." He hurries to my side.
The rest of the night we laugh with each other, joke, cook, and cuddle.

After 'making love', Cooper falls asleep quickly and I slide out from the bed and sneak into my closet.
I walk around admiring all "my" things.
Jewelry, shoes, purses, belts, gowns, designer everything.
I walk by and run my hand over all the expensive laces, silks, everything I can touch.
I smile at my collection not because they make me happy, but because this morning as I took a deep breath in to calm my nerves, and pain seared though my body, I knocked a $4000 pair of unworn shoes to the floor, and it hit me...
They are my ticket out of New York. They are my escape plan.