taste | e.d

twelve

I hear voices in the living room, echoing due to the lack of furniture in the apartment. Male and female voices, shouting in a heated argument. I drowsily rub my eyes and get up to press my ear against the door to eavesdrop.

"You need to get out!" says Shannon.

"No. Not until I see her."

God, no.

"She doesn't want to see you! Do you not realize what you fucking did?"

"What I was about to do! Thank God that guy stopped me. I wouldn't have been able to live with myself."

"You still shouldn't be able to live with yourself! You fucking– Get out of my house!"

"I shoved my way through the door, I can shove my way through you."

"I can call the cops, Jace! I don't even know why you're not in jail right now! Ow! Hey, don't–"

The door suddenly jerks forward, knocking me down to the floor.

I used to adore the color of those eyes. Blue-green, like the ocean. I remember running my fingers through his bronze hair as we kissed. Wonderful memories rush through my head as I stare at him. But they all end with his fists colliding with my ribs, and the blood dripping down my back after he dug his nails into me so mercilessly.

The tension in the air dramatically thickens. Now all the emotions I can register when I look at him are anger... and fear.

He stares back at me, his eyes wide.

"Kendall, I swear–"

"What are you doing here?" I say. I want my voice to be firm, so I can at least pretend I'm not afraid, but it comes out shaky. Besides, I'm certain he can see it in my eyes.

"I'm here to say sorry." He holds out his hand to help me up off the ground but I don't take it. After a moment, his arm falls limply at his side.

"I'm never going to forgive you. Get out of my room," I say.

He looks around at the sparsely decorated room. "How did you get the money to rent this place?" His eyes meet mine again, concerned. "What have you been doing since the last time I saw you?"

Now I stand, holding my chin up. "You have no right to barge into my home and ask me questions that have nothing to do with you. I'm being nice. Leave!"

He holds my arms. "Who was the guy that took you?"

I grit my teeth. "Let go of me!"

Shannon runs in. Just as she does, Jace's fingers unwrap around my arms. I recoil, goosebumps covering the places his hands were.

"You've changed, Ken...."

My face heats up. "No fucking shit, Sherlock! When a person you trusted tries to rape you, you don't just keep on living your merry life as if nothing happened! You expect me to do that? What the fuck is wrong with you, Jace? Why did you come back? Who even are you? I don't know you anymore!"

"Kendall, listen. I'm sorry. I let my head take control and I didn't know why I was–"

"You let your dick take control of you, fucking dumbass!" says Shannon.

Jace doesn't take his eyes off me. "I never stopped loving you."

There's that stupid fucking word again.

Angry, tired, and overwhelmed, I do the only thing I can think of. I bring my arm back and hit him in the face, his head snapping to the side. "If you loved me, you wouldn't have done what you did!" Tears are running down my face now. "You know damn well if he hadn't showed up, I'd be dead right now! You were going to kill me, Jace! I could see it. I could see it in your eyes. I could feel it in the way you hit me!"