De Luca

Chapter 18 EDITED

Nathalie's POV

It's been a week since Giovanni had me relocate to his house. I know that I'm safe now. But I can't help but feel a sense of red was over me each time the dark abyss swallows me. When I wake, I'm drenched in a cold sweat. The tortuous memories of Trent feel real and invade my mind like a deadly virus. I hate it. I hate having to remember. I hate not coming to my senses a lot sooner before I let Trent come into my life. The memories only made me see how much of a fool I was.

Our first encounter was that of any ordinary meeting. Out on a little outing with Lance and a few of his old college buddies, they each had their dates. So I wouldn't be the only girl there. We were at the Carnival Fiesta when I first saw Trent.

He had on a pink button-up shirt, black jeans, and sneakers. He seemed to enjoy himself with the people with him: three other guys, two Asian and a dark-skinned guy. Our eyes lock, and it was an attraction I couldn't explain.

We talked that night, exchanging numbers. It started like any other relationship would, laughs, smiles, comfort, love; Puppylove.

Little by little, that ended. Trent would verbally abuse me, screaming at me for no reason, and I kept telling myself that it was just an off day. Everyone has an off day, right?

Sniff.

No excuse in the world or in the English vocabulary can express the stupidity I feel when I have my nightmares. One after another, reminding me of the psychotic man I once blindly love.

I ignored the signs, ignored the warnings from my mother. I wasn't crazy in love with him, but I was in love with him. I loved the man that showered me in attention, the man that wanted me for himself.

What I failed to realize was the way he did it, the way he claimed that he loved me. He would buy me gifts, making me feel special, and right after making me feel worthless. He would go from calling me all his to a disgusting, worthless slut. When I answered him back, he would punch me, telling me I need to learn my place.

I wouldn't cry, panic, or whine. I fought back. Because of Trent, I learned how to fight the hard way, how to take a man's punch, how to ignore the pain and keep going. I don't know how the fight would stop, but it would die down, and I would be left to clean up the mess. Clean up the broken glasses and my bruised or cut body — face, arms, legs, stomach, ass, back. I had a few broken bones as well.

The first fight should have been my ticket out, but I stayed. I stayed because I wanted someone to love me. I don't have daddy issues or abonnement issues. My father loved me and my mom. He was our cheerleader. He was always telling us how great we are, even if we failed. He was our rock, and then he died. Some stupid kid thought shooting up a grocery store would make him cooler.

I didn't have many friends, just Lance, Kristy, and Anna, but she moved away to start her family. I wanted that. That is what blinded me the most in my relationship with Trent. Wanting to have a family of my own, people to come home to, people that depend on me until they couldn't anymore.

Blinded by the idea, it would make me forgive him and try to make our relationship work.

How did I come to my senses? The first time he raped me. I finish working at a Wine Factory restaurant. There was a big event, so I finished late. When I got home, he was pissed off. He started accusing me of being out with someone else. What I didn't understand was that I was in my work clothes.

I pushed him out of my face, too tired to argue. He caught me off guard, hitting me the back of my head and throwing me on the ground. He ripped my shirt, I tried fighting back, but I was so tired. Somehow I managed to get him off of me and tried running for the door. He pulled me back by my feet, hitting me in the head repeatedly.

I laid there, motionless as he raped me. With each of his trust, he kept calling me names, telling me I was ungrateful. I was his and no one else. When he had his way, he got up, leaving me where I lay and turning on the TV.

That's when I realized that I put myself in that situation, and now I was finally done. No more. I was worth so much more and deserved to be treated as such. If he truly loved me, he wouldn't have abused me. I wouldn't have allowed him to treat me that way.

I broke up with Trent, telling him that he needed to see a doctor. Not long after, he was stalking me, showing up at dinner dates. He became obsessed, possessive, and more violent than before. I was just lucky that Mr. Santini was a good enough man to help me out.

No amount of love should make a woman stay in a toxic relationship, the way that I stayed. I don't know. I wish I could make it all go away, erase it from ever existing. The pain. The abuse.

Having to be drowned in my pitiful dark memories. I feel pathetic. I got out of bed and did the same routine I always did for the past four days. Reds would be asleep, and I would sneak off to take a quick shower.

I would go to the kitchen, eat, and go back to bed. He would, by then, be awake and waiting for me. He would pull me close to his chest, rubbing small circles on my arm. I would fall asleep for a moment, only to be woken by another nightmare.

I finished in the shower, throwing on a short pants and a spaghetti strap t-shirt. I made my way to the kitchen, making myself a sandwich.

I ate, the silence surrounding me. Giovanni's neighbor is real quiet. No sound of gunshots, no sirens were blazing in the distance, people shouting or arguing. No neighbors were playing loud music — just silence.

I had taken two bites of my sandwich before I stared at it. I stared at it as if it held all of my pain and happiness. The day I met Reds was the best day of my life. How we got to know each other, how he always came to see me. Have you ever met someone that had you wishing you could have met them a lot sooner before you knew what pain, heartbreak, or self-pity was? Reds was that guy. He catered to me, as I did for him. He didn't ask for anything in return.

Then we got together.

Something in me snapped. I took up the plate with my sandwich was on it and threw it on the floor. I opened up his cabinets and started breaking his plates, cups, bowled. I screamed!

"You know what? Fuck you, Trent!" I broke a glass.

"Fuck you for existing!" I broke his panting.

"You know what? I'm mad at myself," I was full-on talking to air right now. "I'm mad because I let you hurt me. I could have poisoned your ass and be rid of you. Couldn't do it because this ass int built for prison. I 'int tryna get raped by a woman. Hell knows what they use as a dick!"

"But fuck you for coming into my life!" I took up a knife, heading to the living room, not before wenching in pain from stepping on broken glass.

"You lopsided looking ass mother! Ooooh, let me see your ass again imma stab your ass like I'm butchering a live cow!" with each word, I stab his couch. I stop when my hands began to get tired and fell on the floor — bringing my knees up to lean on them as I tried to control my breathing from my rant.

"You good?" Reds' voice startled me. I watched him as he looked around and nodded my head at his question. It felt good to get that out of my system; maybe I can sleep peacefully tonight.

"I'm happy my home was there for you to destroy; thanks for that," He chuckled, shaking his head. He came, picking me up, and headed to his bedroom.

Sorry, it took so long! I hope you guys like it. Let me know what you think! Comment and vote. Love you my beautiful readers.

xoxo