I’ve learned through the years that crying never helps. To Daddy, everything I do is wrong. Everything is always my fault. According to him, crying is a sign of weakness. And any weakness in a person, man or woman, needs to be broken.
Dishes clink and clank against the counter. I lift my head, peeking through my trembling fingers, as Daddy removes all the dishes from the cupboard and stacks them in a messy pile next to the sink. One dish teeters on the edge of the counter, wobbling back and forth back and forth. Oh no . It’s slipping. My hand juts out, but not in enough time to catch the plate before it crashes into the hardwood floor, smashing into a million ceramic pieces.
It’s my fault the dish fell.
Daddy twists around and a loud slap rings out as his palm connects with my cheek. My skin tingles and burns, and instinctively I place a hand on my cheek, hoping that my cool palm will put out the fire. It doesn’t.
“Clean this shit up!” he shouts and stomps off into the other room.
With arms and legs like jelly, I try to pick myself off the floor and let out a sob when I only make it halfway, and fall back down. I try again, using the counter as an aid and manage to pull myself up, scaling the length. When I make it to the sink, I turn the water on. Then I sob, not too loud, but I’ve reached the point where I’m sobbing so hard that I’m dry heaving.
I mouth, “Damien,” and use my arms as a bandage to keep myself together. To make myself feel whole. Even though I’m anything but whole. If you held me up to the sun you could see the bright shimmering rays of light peeking through me. I’m just as broken as the ceramic plate in pieces decorating the floor.
Two weeks.
Two weeks.
It feels like the days are dragging on forever.
That my escape will never happen.
Two weeks.
And all I keep thinking is that I hope between now and then that Daddy doesn’t kill me first.
Chapter 26
~BEFORE~
I can’t sleep. I’m too antsy, too anxious.
I left my bedroom window open and the cool autumn breeze flits in and ruffles my curtains. Daddy’s snoring is loud, but I’m okay with that. Then he won’t hear Damien as he clamors in through the window.
I know it’s risky. Sneaking him in like this with Daddy asleep in the next room, but I don’t care. His absence has put a constant ache in my heart since he left for college and I can’t wait for his touch to make that ache disappear.
I can’t wait to feel his warm lips against mine.
His body next to me.
His hot breath sending a shiver of delight down my spine.
There’s rustling in my curtains. Two thudding footsteps on my floor. Sitting up, I beam into the darkness as Damien untangles himself from a mess of yellow curtains. I rise from my bed and his blue eyes cut into the darkness, staring intensely into mine. I choke on a breath. This almost doesn’t seem real. It feels like I’m dreaming. But the reality sets in when Damien strides across the floor in two giant steps, grips the back of my neck, twists his fingers in my hair and lunges for my mouth.
He snakes a strong arm around my back, our bodies pressed together so tightly it’s like we’re glued to one another. Melted. Fused. Nothing can tear us a part. His thumbs trail across my cheeks and my fingers are raking through his hair as our passionate li
p lock smolders and grows deeper and deeper by the second. He grazes his teeth across my bottom lip and in a breathless rasp says, “God, I’ve missed you.”
Words fail me. Escape me. Flee like a criminal with a mask, running through a darkened alley. I can’t even begin to describe how torturous it was to be without him for as many months as it has been. So I show him. I show him by never breaking our lustful haze of adoring tongues, lips, and raspy breathing. I show him by walking backwards, falling onto my bed and pulling him on top of me. There’s a hungry glint in his eye as he stares down at me. He gets me. Knows where I’m going with this. A playful, sexy smirk appears on his lips. “Oh yeah? You missed me that much?”
Finally I turn my head to the side and come up for air. “I’ve missed you every second of every minute of every hour of every day.”
Damien’s deep, throaty chuckle brings a smile to my lips. “That’s a lot of time to waste on missing someone.”
I face him, gazing up lovingly into his blue eyes, touching his long dark lashes, placing my palm flat against his overheated cheek. “You’re worth it.” I’d waste every second of my life on him if I could.
“I’d like you to miss me some more.”
I hear the husky, seductive tone in his voice and decide to tease him. “Oh, would you?”