The Way You See Me

Chapter Three

I feel my stomach sink. I roll down my window enough to hear what he has to say. He doesn't look happy. "Hey, Nick," I breathe. 

"What are you doing here, Calleigha? You told me the store, lunch, interviews, home. And this place wasn't on that list. Why are you here?" He demands, glaring down at me. I stutter, trying to think of an explanation.

"I did do all those things, I just-" 

He cuts me off, "You just what? Decided you could go off and do whatever? Not ask me first?" He asks, but it's more like a statement. There's never a point in arguing with him, he's always right, no matter what. 

I shake my head, glancing down at my hands in my lap. I pick at the hangnails on my fingers. A bad habit, I know. "No, I didn't... I didn't mean to come here." I say and almost wince at how stupid I knew that sounded.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" He throws his hands up and I flinch. I'm glad the window is between us. He grabs my door handle, but the door is locked. "Unlock the car." He says, not a question. Well great. The window is no good for me now.

I swallow. Do I leave? Or do I listen? 

He hits the door in frustration and I decide to listen. I knew better, I honestly don't know why the thought even crossed my mind. My hand reaches over to press the little rectangular button, causing the locks to pop open. He reaches down again, this time he successfully opens my door. He grabs me, pulling me out of the car by my arm. We're face-to-face now. I have to look up if I want to make eye-contact, but I don't. 

I try to pull out of his grip, his hand is starting to hurt my arm. Surprisingly, he lets me, muttering something about 'lucky we're in public'. Oh, I knew I was. He gets in the driver's seat of my car and glares up at me as I stand there, probably looking like an idiot. 

"Get in, Leigha." He mutters. I could've pretended like I couldn't hear him through the window, but it's still open slightly. So, instead, I sigh but comply. My mind was no longer on Dominic and the cute, chubby brunette with the smug face. Honestly, I forgot all about them. It was probably better that way. He obviously was just leading me on. Even if he was an extremely attractive man with a sexy voice and- Ugh. I need to stop. 

I'm shaking a bit. I rub my arms, playing it off as being cold. Doesn't matter if I'm already wearing a hoodie, and it's almost 70 out.

I get in on the passenger's side, closing the door. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was coming here," I say, my voice sounding small. I glance up, daring to look over into his deep blue eyes, a million shades darker than my own. Sometimes I wish I had darker blue eyes, but I did like the way mine would change shades. I could have a bright sky-crystal blue, and seconds later they could be the color of a blue Crayola crayon. 

He still hasn't answered me, not that I asked a question. Apologies don't mean anything anymore. He drives out of the parking lot of the little cafe and pulls out onto a busier road. I wonder how he got here; I didn't see his car. I also whose house he'll take us to.

We end up at mine. He parks the car and sighs, rubbing his face, but it was like I could feel the anger radiating off him. This wasn't over yet- then again when was it ever?

"Look at me, Cal." He says, his voice stronger than mine ever is. "Look at me, now." He demands when I don't move.

I turn my head slowly, my eyes meeting his. Seconds later, his hand reaches across and slaps my cheek. I gasp slightly, my hand reaching up and holding the spot that was heating up, stinging. My eyes fall back to the floorboard of the car as I turn away, biting my lip. I didn't feel the tears come this time. Maybe I'm finally getting numb to it. Doubtful. 

"Next time, I know where you are. At all times," I think I hear him smirk. It doesn't surprise me. It's always been like this. He gets pissed over the littlest things and slaps me "for not listening" once we're alone. I was grateful for that, at least. He could've done it in that parking lot. 

He sometimes gets angry, not just mad. He'll make me go buy him more liquor, though I'm not even old enough. I have to pay someone of age to go inside and get it for me. Once I bring it to him, he's already drunk, or at least tipsy. I'm not allowed to leave once I'm there. Who else will he scream at about anything under the sun that disappoints or angers him? 

He usually sticks to drinking on the weekends, but recently, it's been more often than not. 

When he drinks, I know it'll be a bad day- and night- for me. Once he gets to the alcohol, he gets angrier than he ever is. It's like a switch flips inside of him. And I'm the victim of his drinking. The slaps turn into hits and kicks. He calls me names, tells me I'm useless. 

One time I didn't answer his call when he ran out of the alcohol at his house, and he drove to mine. Well, tried. He was under-the-influence. To make a long story short, he killed my neighbor's cat. I cried for days. 

He beat me until I swore that I'd never miss a call again. I had been doing school studying and didn't have my phone. That wasn't an excuse.

After that night is when I decided I wouldn't do online courses. 

I've never been to the emergency room. I've had broken ribs before, and they had to heal on their own. One of his biggest rules; what happens between us stays between us. No friends find out, no phone calls crying. And absolutely no trips to medical care. For anything. If I'm sick, I stay home. 

You're probably wondering why I don't just ditch him. We don't live together, why don't I move? 

Well, of course, I've wondered that, too. And it's definitely crossed my mind. 

But, trust me, it's a lot more complicated than you may think. 

Hell, it's more complicated than I  may think.

*     *     *

You made it to the end of Chapter Three! Sorry, it was a bit shorter than usual. I hope you're enjoying my book so far, there's much more to come! 

I've been updating every day, but that might change soon. I'll probably begin to do every other day or every two days. 

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