good heart | r.h

• nine •

• trigger warning: this chapter will include rape, please read with caution. you've been warned.

I plop down onto the couch, a small sigh escaping my lips as I place the bowl of popcorn in my hands onto the cushion next to me. Grabbing a hold of the XBOX controller, I press the A button for Longmire to continue playing. I pull my knees up into my chest, instantly becoming invested into the show at hand.

Grayson rarely let me have the TV when he was home, leaving me to use my laptop to catch up on my shows or to merely wait until he had gone to bed to watch anything. But on a night like tonight, when he happened to be working later then usually and I already finished making his dinner, I had the house all to myself. 

It felt nice actually, finally being able to relax for once without having to worry about Grayson breathing over my shoulder. Don't get me wrong, I love having Grayson around and I don't mind watching his shows with him, but like anyone else, having some me-time every once in a while is crucial.

As I take a handful of popcorn, eating bit by bit as I watch Walt walk through a forest, my phone buzzes next to me. I narrow my eyes slightly, looking down to see Ryan's name pop up on my screen, asking me how my night was going. I feel a small smile creep onto my face as I grab my phone, texting him back.

I rarely used my phone at all nowadays, other then for work and Netflix. So Ryan texting me almost everyday just to talk made me feel like a teenager, texting my friends every second of the day. I couldn't keep our messages for long though, I couldn't even keep his number saved in my phone. Because if Grayson happened to use my phone and saw his name and our texts, I'd be in the gutter for sure.

As I set my phone down onto the couch once more, the front door unlocks and opens, Grayson stumbling in moments later. I quickly pause the show, standing up from my seat on the couch and walking over to his aid.

"Hey sweetheart, how was work?" I ask, trying to ease the jackets off of his shoulders, but his body kept swaying from left to right, nearly causing him to fall over.

"Have you been drinking?" I ask, but I already knew the answer as I took in a deep breath, breathing in a strong whiff of tequila coming from his mouth.

"What's it to you, huh?" He slurs as I finally pull his jacket off of his arms, throwing it up on the coat rack not a moment later. 

A small sigh escapes my lips as I reach up and loosen his tie off his collar. I hated when Grayson came home drunk, it means that he had to drive home from the bar, risking not only his life but others on the road. It also means that I have to tread on a thin wire tonight, because setting him off can only mean bad luck for me.

• Flashback •

As I pull open the dryer, ready to grab the freshly washed clothes and fold them away, I hear the front door open and slam shut. My eyebrows knit together, quickly closing the dryer door before investigating. I walk into the living room, seeing Grayson with a shit-eating grin across his lips as he stumbled in.

"What is wrong with you? Are you drunk?" I ask as he falls face first into the couch, he mumbles something into the cushion as I walk over to the window, seeing his car parked horribly in the driveway.

"You drove home drunk? Grayson, do you know how dangerous that is!" I yell, completely baffled as he slowly turned over to face me.

"I only had . . like, two bottles babe." He slurs, simply waving it off as nothing as I feel my anger boiling up in my chest.

"It doesn't matter how many you had, sweetheart! Do you realize what could've happened?" I ask, anxiously combing my fingers threw my hairs as he stood up from the couch.

"You could've killed someone, Grayson! You could've killed yourself for God sakes! Hear I am, sitting at home and waiting for-" I was cut off as Grayson raises up a fist, throwing it down into my cheek.

I stumbled back, losing my balance and falling to the floor, the pain in my cheek flourishing throughout my face. I spare a glance up at him, only to be met with another fist colliding with my face. After a few more hits, Grayson finally pulled back, a sob escaping my lips at the overwhelming pain.

For a moment, I thought he let me go for tonight, went to go to bed or maybe even throw up all the alcohol in his system. But as I felt a hand wrap around my neck, I knew he wasn't finished with me yet. 

My eyes shoot open as his grip tightens, cutting off my airway instantaneously. I struggle under his grasp, my hands grabbing a hold of his wrist to somehow pull his arm away, but that only made it worse. 

My vision began to stray as I gasp for a breath, trying to beg Grayson, but I could barely move my mouth at this point. It wasn't until my vision had darkened, my hands fell loosely at my sides when I felt his hand immediately release.

I gasp loudly, accepting as much air as my lungs could take in as Grayson slowly backed away from me, his eyes wide as he realized what just happened. He quickly pulled himself together, taking off towards the kitchen and not a moment later coming back with a water bottle in his hands. 

He twists off the cap, handing me the water with a shaky hand as I grab it from him. I take a long, generous sip, his eyes searching me up and down in worry.

"Babe, I-I-"

"It's fine, sweetheart. I'm fine, I promise."

• End •

"Honey, what do you want to do? Do you want eat? Take a shower?" I ask, placing my hands onto his shoulders to make sure he wouldn't fall over.

"I want . . you." He mutters, his hands slowly making their way onto my hips before pulling me into him.

My eyebrows knot together as he leans down, his lips landing on mine almost instantly. I reluctantly kiss back, hoping to not anger the drunken man, even though I much rather finish the episode of Longmire.

He pushes me back into the living room, his lips deepening the kiss as he craved more and more. I try to keep with his pace as much as I could until we found ourselves at the edge of the couch. He pulls away for a moment, knocking the bowl of popcorn off the couch and flying onto the floor before shoving me down.

He quickly begins to undo his belt, the member in his pants so very prominent at this point as I bite the inside of my lip, swallowing down the fear building up in my throat. It wasn't long after his pants were down at his ankles that he came after my own. I let him tear the sweats off of my legs, the panties following close behind them. 

I knew I couldn't say no unless I wanted a repeat of that dreaded night, but I wanted to say something. Anything.

Blood began to pour into my mouth as I bit too hard into my lip, his member sliding in and out of me in seconds. I sat there, tears threatening to spill over as I stare up at the ceiling, waiting for this whole thing to be over.

As he picked up his pace, my phone sitting on the arm rest buzzes, letting me know that Ryan had messaged back. I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing I could text him back, wishing I wasn't obligated into this situation, wishing I wasn't here right now.