Goodbye Ain't Ever Meant A Thing

Chapter 11

Fourteen days since Derrick had forced her to move into a house she didn't want. Seven days of 24/7 beatings. Seven days since the backyard BBQ. Seven days since she had seen Brantley. Seven days since she had been to work claiming the flu. Her mother had stopped by but Derrick always said she was sleeping. In reality, her face and body was so black and blue that everyone would immediately know. She knew she was safe from Brantley seeing at least. His manager had set him up for a mini week-long tour. Radio station interviews mostly, a few acoustic performances here and there. He already was near the end of the week. Brantley hadn't come through the front door and killed Derrick yet so Justin hadn't told him, something she was thankful for.

She was on her hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floors over and over again. She was almost certain she was just going over the same spot, but she could care less. Derrick was on the phone in his office talking to a client that he had held from his other label. She had no idea who it was, or where they were from, all she cared about was that he wasn't breathing down her neck for a few moments. She sighed and stood, shakily, pain radiating throughout her lower body and back. Taking a towel she dried the wet floor, satisfied with her work for the time being. She set the towel in the hamper as she turned to stare at herself.

Her copper hair seemed dull, something she always prided herself on had become so much like herself. Weak. The skin around her right eye had turned a disgusting shade of yellow, showing that he had taken it easy on her face over the past couple days. Her arms were covered in fingerprints and scrapes. A tear rolled down her face as she looked down at the floor. She couldn't fathom the thought of staring at herself any longer. She turned and walked from the bathroom, keeping her head low like the good servant she was.

"Sienna!" Fear shot through her body as she set a hand on her chest. She quickly found her way to Derrick's office. Pushing the door open carefully she presented herself to Derrick.

"Yes?" She made sure to keep her voice soft, knowing he was still with a client.

"Where are my files on my new country clients?" His voice was annoyed, but she could tell he was hiding what he really wanted to do. She instantly walked over and picked up his briefcase, handing it to him as she swallowed hard. She saw her reflection in the view of the camera, making her jump back immediately. "Thank you, darling. That's all."

"Is that Rosey?!" A small smile graced her lips slightly as she noticed who he was on the webcam with. Florida Georgia Line, country's country rap duo.

"Yes, Sienna why don't you come say hi?" He grit his teeth together. She knew it wasn't a request. She hurried over, sitting in his seat and smiling up at him in a fake thank you.

"Hello, Boys. How are you guys doing?" She made sure she sat tall and had the utmost proper manners. Just as Derrick commanded.

"A lot better now that we saw you! We haven't seen you in years girl." Brian gushed as she smiled. Tyler hadn't said anything, focused on the side of her face. She looked away.

"How are you Rosey?" He finally asked, "Looks like you took a fall."

'Shit', she thought, as she quickly thought of an excuse. "Ohh no, I'm fine guys. You know I'm a klutz. I was drinking with Becky the other night and straight fell over the back of the couch and hit my face on her coffee table, kind of like that night years ago. You remember the one. I tripped and fell straight into the side of B's truck face first. My whole face was bloodied after. Guess I can't handle my liquor as well as I used to," She laughed as she shook her head. Brian shook his head laughing, but Tyler was just smiling. "Sorry, guys I gotta go get dinner out of the oven before it burns."

"So how do you know my beautiful girlfriend?" Derrick smiled as he sat back in his seat nodding his head as if he was agreeing with her story. She let out a sigh of relief as she hurried to the kitchen. Pulling the pot pie from the oven she paused, a single tear running down her face as she prayed they believed her.

After dinner she sat on the couch, staring out at the pitch black night. Derrick had been silent throughout dinner. She swallowed hard as she felt a pressure rest on the side of her as his hand brushed her neck, making her flinch away.

"Is that what it's come to? I can't even touch you without you thinking the worst." His voice was quiet, barely even there as she turned to look at him. She didn't say anything. A small scream left her lips as he picked up her glass of tea and threw it against the wall, breaking it on impact. "Answer me Sienna!"

"Yes." Her answer was quiet and straight to the point. She looked up at him. His face was twisted with rage. His blue eyes now black with anger. His breathing was harsh and quick as he stared at her.

"I haven't been that bad." He responded as he rolled his eyes.

"Not that bad." She laughed as she shook her head, "Not that bad huh? Is not that bad beating me until I'm unconscious? Is not that bad having your way with me whenever you so well please? You have beat me every single day for almost two years, Derrick. I've had to learn to bandage broken bones and cover up each and every bruise you leave on me. Not that bad. Is not that bad not being able to sleep at night in case I roll over and wake you up? Is not that bad...Is not that bad...losing...." She couldn't say it. The words that had been trapped in her mind for so long, she couldn't let go. It was too painful, too much to bare.

"Can't say it can you?" His smirk nearly made her sick. He had no remorse for the things he did to her. She was nothing more than property. "You can't say what I did to you. What I took from you can you? Poor little Sienna. No, it's not that bad. Most women would be thankful for the life I've given them. A roof over their head, no need for a job, anything you hear desires I could have here in under a day, but you're still not happy. So no, it's not that bad."

"What my heart desires you will never be able to give me. What I desire is sitting down the street in his old bedroom with a guitar on his lap and notebook on the bed. What I desire is the life I had before I met you! What I desire is to be done with you and to never see your face again." She stared straight at him, waiting for his response. For whatever he was going to throw at her. She was tired. After seven days of constant abuse, it was hard to have the will to live. What made it worse was that everyone was right down the street. Her mother and father were less than a block away. She could see their house from where she stood in her living room. The little light down the path was Mama Becky's. Yet no one knew a single thing that happened in their little house. He didn't need to know that Brantley wasn't down the street like she had said. It was one of the few things that kept the abuse down.

A burning flowed through her stomach as his fist collided with it again and again. His favorite spot. She dropped to her knees, unable to stay standing in the pain that flowed through her. The bruised skin could only take so much added torture. Pulling her by her hair he lead her to the one room she knew not to get trapped in. The front bathroom. There were no windows to escape from, no way to leave again. Her face hit the cold tile as he threw her in, slamming the door hard enough to shake the little house.

At least she was alone she thought. She curled into a ball on the floor as silent tears fell from her eyes. This was her life now, but as long as Brantley was safe, she would be okay.