All The Mixed Feelings (Van McCann)

Part 24

Warnings: This part contains some quite upsetting physical and verbal abuse...

Abby

True to my word here I was at Chris's house the following evening. As soon as I'd arrived I'd known something was off about Chris, and a sneaky search in the kitchen had proved my suspicions right when I found an empty bottle of vodka in the dustbin.

"Have you been drinking already?" I called from the kitchen.

"Just had a few, get off my case Abby. It's Friday night for fucks sake."

Chris's voice was sharp, and I decided not to comment further. I knew how his bad temper went hand in hand with his drinking and didn't want to rile him.

Chris sat at one end of the sofa and I sat at the other, my legs stretched out in the space between us. We decided to watch a film, well it was more the case that Chris was watching the film. I, on the other hand I was completely distracted by the knowledge that at precisely 9pm that evening, the band's first official single was being played on the radio. This was a pivotal moment for them, and I would have loved to have shared it with them. They were having a party at Van and Larry's to celebrate and Michelle had begged me to go. Van had messaged me too. Of course I'd declined.

"I'll get us a couple of beers," Chris offered, getting up and heading to the kitchen, swaying slightly.

"I don't want one," I replied, not wanting to encourage him, but it didn't deter him.

I glanced at the time on my phone. 8.50pm. I'm sure the party would be in full swing, the radio turned up full blast to broadcast the moment they were all waiting for. I opened up the contacts on my phone, scrolling until Van's name appeared on the screen. Should I send a message just to let him know I'm thinking about him? Chris walked back in and I quickly locked my phone, returning it to the arm of the sofa.

Chris took a seat back on the sofa, this time sitting slightly closer with my feet in his lap. "Everything okay?"

"Mmm yeah, why?"

"You just seem a little distracted, that's all," he said, running a hand gently up my calf.

I felt myself tense. We'd not been intimate at all since he'd pinned me up against the wall and threatened me, and the thought of it made my chest feel tight and panicky. I acted as if I hadn't noticed a thing, keeping my eyes fixed on the tele. From my peripheral vision I could see Chris was looking right at me.

"Mmm your skin's so soft..." he said in a low voice, letting his fingertips trail higher up to my knee.

Despite the warm evening, I actually felt a chill run through me. The thought of Chris putting his hands all over me made me feel deeply uncomfortable. I shifted in my seat, still looking ahead. Chris took another swig of his beer then he leaned forward, putting his bottle on the floor. When he sat back his hands were trailing up my legs again, this time reaching up to my inner thigh.

I pressed my legs firmly together, finally looking at him. "Chris... don't..."

"What?" He said, annoyance clear in his voice.

I sighed, my heart starting to race. How could I explain how I felt without him losing his temper? The thought of you touching me makes me shudder? I'm sure that would go down well.

"I just don't feel like it," I said weakly.

His eyes bored into me, his mouth set in a hard line. "You never do these days! When's the last time you let me go anywhere near you?"

Maybe it would be easier just to give in? Take a deep breath, close my eyes and pretend I was somewhere else?

"Come on Abby, you look so hot tonight in that little skirt."