WIPs

Chapter One

CAT

She pulls her knees to her chest and buries her face in them, trying to trap the warmth that’s left inside her. Her wet hair sticks to her legs like cobwebs and there’s a dull ache drumming against her skull. Despite the cold water, Cat can still feel the effects of the wine settling deep within her – warm and comforting, like an embrace. She’s cozy here in this little bubble of solace and safety. Nothing hurts here.

A sharp sound pierces through the fog of her mind, jolting her awake. It’s the bathroom door. Cat’s heart thuds against her ribcage as fear and panic seize her. She attempts to make herself smaller. Invisible. But her efforts are futile as she simply sits and waits. Soon enough he enters the room and his ominous steps echo across the tiled floor drawing closer and closer until his menacing figure towers above her. The anxiety in her stomach increases tenfold with each step he takes, like a dark wave crashing down on her with its suffocating darkness. Every breath feels like an effort, as if she’s being poisoned by terror itself – deprived of air and left to drown in despair.

He uses the silence like a weapon; a loaded gun with the barrel pressed up against her head. Like when the back of his hand connected with her face earlier. It’s all meant to prove a point. To exercise power. Every second amplifies his dominance, each shift of movement a reminder that Cat is in no position to fight back. She feels the shift of his weight and soon enough he’s at level with the bathtub. At level with her. He moves closer until she can feel his hot breath on her skin, sending chills down her spine but there’s no mercy here; just another way for him to mark his domain. Softly, sensually, he presses his lips against her arm, and she’s scorched by the flames he leaves behind.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” Years of smoking has made Nate’s voice raspy, but it’s a quality Cat has always found sexy, and she hates that even now, even in the state she’s in, that voice can still trigger a carnal want. “I overreacted.” 

Breaking things is an overreaction. Breaking someone, you claim to love is something else entirely. Cat doesn’t know what to say, but she certainly doesn’t say that.

There’s a sigh. His. Not hers. She wouldn’t dare. Only shallow breaths for her. It hurt too much to breathe deeper anyway.

“Cat…” he utters her name and tension grips her even more. “You have to forgive me…”

You have to forgive me. The phrase is a noose around her neck, growing ever tighter each time he utters it. Nate has weaponized this phrase and he unleashes it with calculated ease every time he strikes her. They’d been dating for the last two years, and he’s hit her five times since then. Each of those five times should’ve been the last. Cat knew she shouldn’t have let it get to five times. But there’s a lot of things she’d allowed in the two years since moving in with him.  

She’s suddenly taken back to the day she told her mom and stepdad Jacob she was moving in with Nate. And although she and her mom had a screaming match to rival all screaming matches, all Cat can remember is what Jacob said to her. “You’re too strong to love a weak man like Nate.”

“Cat…” impatience has crept in and it’s a precursor to his anger. Cat’s far too familiar with that anger. She’s been on the receiving end of it a fistful of times now. There was nothing physically weak about Nate.

“I…” she clears her throat, “I forgive you.” The murmured words mean nothing at this point. She only says them because it’s what he wants to hear. She only says them because she doesn’t want him to hit her again. The damage done to her body tonight will take weeks to heal.

“Please look at me.”

Cat lifts her eyes to meet his. Not because she wants to but she’s afraid not doing so will only kindle the flames of his anger. Self-preservation wins out every time. Especially so soon after he beat her. This is the part of the fight where she needed to tread lightly. 

“Babe,” thick furrowed brows set over eyes the color of ink holds her gaze. There’s something like remorse in his eyes. 

“I forgive you, Nate.” She has to look away because she knows that look of remorse isn’t genuine. 

“God, Cat,” This time the kiss is on her left shoulder, and she fights the urge to shrink away. “It won’t happen again.”

That lie has been uttered too many times before and although her body wants her to believe it, her mind can’t let go of the fact that it will happen again. Nathan is going to hit her again. It’s not a matter of if but a question of when and how bad will it be the next time. 

“It won’t happen again.” He utters a second time, maybe trying to convince himself of the lie. He places more kisses on her wet skin. Lingering kisses. Whispery soft lips, the heat of his breath trails from her shoulder, slowly down her arm, to eventually the back of her hand. “I love you so much, Cat.”

His love bomb upends her mind but seduces her flesh. Its fear, anxiety and need balled into arousal. A byproduct of her trauma.