Brendon and Juliette prepare for something terrible, but neither know what.
I bit my lip as his fingers found the hem of my jeans. He unbuttoned them, unzipping the zipper. I let my breath out slowly as he traced his fingers over what he’d engraved in to my skin- his name. It didn’t hurt anymore, having healed with his tender care but I could still remember the knife cutting in to my skin.
“This is beautiful.” Brendon whispered, “So beautiful, and all mine. This is a mark that you’re mine.” Brendon’s tone turned dark, lust dripping from his words. “We should make it permanent. Someday this will fade and barely be visible. You don’t want that, do you?”
“P-permanent?” My voice shook as I struggled to free the word.
“Yeah baby.” Brendon was over me, looking down at me.
“What do you mean?” I breathed out, taken with his dark eyes. I slipped in to them, feeling myself begin to get lost.
“We could get it tattooed.” Brendon proposed, leaning down so that his lips were inches from mine.
I didn’t say anything, simply gazing in to his eyes. They were so beautiful. He was so beautiful. If he was so fucked up would he even want me? I shook the thought away as Brendon leaned down the few inches necessary to connect our lips. Electricity shot through my body and I arched up, wanting more of him. His taste was so sweet- the mix of liquor not even putting me off in the slightest.
Brendon laughed, “So eager.” He pulled away, much to my annoyance.
“Sh.” Brendon held a finger to his lips, a smile dancing upon his face. “Don’t make a noise.”
I nervously held myself in place, biting my lip to keep any noise inside.
Brendon calmly took his shirt off, draping it over the chair in the corner of the room. Next came his jeans, then his boxers. He stood staring at me, a smile still firmly on his face. “You make me happy Juliette.” Brendon confessed softly, moving towards the bed again. “The kind of happy that I haven’t been in a very long time.”
His words felt like a stab to my heart and a cold shock ran through my body as I thought of the horror of his past, and the event which most likely caused him to be so dysfunctional.
“Do I make you happy Juliette?” Brendon frowned as he leaned closer to me, “Do I really make you happy, when I hide you away from the world, when I beat you?”
I blinked in confusion, “You don-“
“Don’t.” Brendon commanded coldly, “Don’t lie to me about what I do. I don’t need you to sugarcoat it for me. I hurt you and yet you came back. I don’t understand you Juliette. My sweet, innocent, caring Juliette.” Brendon ran his fingers over my cheek before bringing his hand back and harshly backhanding me. “Never leave me again or I will kill you.”
I knew this would happen.
I braced myself as he grabbed my hair roughly, pulling my head to the side. He kissed gently all along my neck before biting my earlobe roughly. I knew this would happen but I still came back because this was Brendon- this was who he was.
He wasn’t soft.
He wasn’t always nice.
Something was wrong with him, but I couldn’t leave- not now and not before.
He didn’t understand it, but I didn’t either.
I kept my promise.
I didn’t scream, though I wanted to.
I was getting stronger, or I was just becoming number to the experience. I wasn’t really sure of the difference.
Brendon was beside me, still as a statue. “I’ll never hit you again.” He muttered, under his breath. I could barely hear him.
He repeated it again and again.
I knew he was broken.
And he’d broken me too.
The next morning came too quickly and with it a headache of massive proportions. I could barely breathe through the pain, all coming from different directions.
“You okay?” Brendon’s concerned voice caused my eyes to fly open, and I was instantly grateful that the room was still dark from the curtains being closed.
“I hurt.” I admitted.
“I’m sorry.” And he sounded sorry too.
I wasn’t stupid. I’d heard this, been warned of it. ‘People in abusive relationships make excuses for their partners; they don’t go for help until it’s too late.’ Brendon was different though. Our entire situation was different, possibly even more criminal… I didn’t care though. All of the logic in the world went out the window when Brendon looked at me.
I couldn’t look at him though.
Just because I came back didn’t mean I wanted to feel this way, it was just that being away from him felt worse. I was picking the lesser of evils- in my opinion.
I told him I liked the pain.
The truth was I liked him.
I liked whatever he wanted, and he was right. There was a big difference. I wouldn’t tell him that though. I wouldn’t admit it for the world, because I knew there was a chance that he would walk away and never look back.
I wouldn’t get another second chance.
You don’t get lucky twice.
“Hey.” Brendon’s voice instantly softened and his fingers found my chin, holding my face in place as he stared in to my eyes. Finally I gave in to the pressure and looked at him. “I’m sorry.” Brendon repeated, voice growing stronger. “I hate seeing you like this.” He admitted, brushing tears I didn’t know I was crying from my cheeks. “I hate being the cause of your pain.”
“Then don’t be.” I begged, disgusted with my own voice- the level to which I was dropping. Brendon had changed me, he had changed everything about me. “Just please, please don’t get so angry with me.”
“Angry?” Brendon frowned, “Juliette, I-“ He stopped, closing his eyes. “Are you hungry baby?”
I nodded, wincing as I sat up.
Brendon lifted the blanket but looked away quickly.
“When did I do that?” He finally asked.
“It was a while ago.” I admitted, not looking at the bruising lining my stomach.
“I- I don’t remember that.” Brendon said, shame burning behind his eyes.
“It’s okay.” I lied. “I don’t even feel it anymore.”
Brendon didn’t say anything.
As we both thought over our own actions things began to change.
Neither of us could see it yet though.
The car ride was spent in silence, the occasional cough or sneeze the only conversation had.
I could feel Brendon’s eyes on me but I didn’t know how to ease his pain when I knew that hurting me was the cause of it. It was like he’d had a breakthrough but I didn’t know where to go with it. He just withdrew completely, and so did I.
They really needed to make self-help books for shit like this.
Brendon suddenly pulled over, the sign above the store startling me. “A liquor store?” I asked, worried for Brendon more than I was worried for me.
“I just need to grab some refreshments.” Brendon said, getting out of the car.
I stayed in place, worry building inside of me.
He quickly returned, stashing his bag in the backseat.
I said nothing.
His breath smelled of alcohol and I knew he’d had something to drink in the store, but how much I wasn’t sure.
I tried to prepare myself for something horrible, but I didn’t know how horrible his actions would be.
Was he going to kill me?
The other night I thought he would, when he had his hands around my neck.
I’d passed out twice, but he kept waking me up.
Still, I wanted to be with him.
I couldn’t bare being away from him.
I was bruised, but more so I was broken.
I felt like Brendon was the only one who would have me now.