Misogynistic, trust fund assholes did not like being dumped by women they considered below them. The women that they thought they were doing a favor by dating them. Derek had made that clear over the past two years, but I hadn’t thought he’d follow me all the way here.
“No, Freya, I’m not letting you go.” He pulled me closer, so our bodies pressed together. So I could smell the Ralph Lauren cologne mixed with the hand sanitizer he slathered on after touching anything communal.
“That’s where I fucked up before. I let you go. Let you think you know better.” He let go of one of my arms so he could stroke the side of my face. I flinched away from his touch. He frowned at this response, but it didn’t stop him.
“It’s not your fault,” he spoke tightly, as if he was forcing his voice to be even, pleasant. “You don’t know any better. The way you grew up. The way you live.” His eyes raked over my outfit with a mixture of hunger and distaste.
My stomach lurched at that look. At the very real situation I was presented with. I was alone in the middle of the night with my borderline stalker ex-boyfriend.
My head snapped upward, and I glared up at him, at his artificially tanned skin, his classical, ordinary good looks.
I’d been in lust with this man at one point. Then I’d been irritated. Disliked him. Now, in this very moment, with his hands on me and the ownership in his gaze, the judgement, feeling like he had a right to me, I fucking hated him.
“I love the way I live,” I hissed. “Unlike you, every penny I have in my bank account is money I’ve made. Yeah, some of that money came from taking off my clothes for money, but you know what? It’s because of rich, entitled assholes like you that I drive a fucking Range Rover.”
Derek’s hands tightened around me to the point of pain, but I didn’t let that shit stop me.
“You think you’re better than me because you were born into a family who has the majority of its ‘old money’ as a result of slavery,” I spat. “You are not special. Throw a stone at an Ivy League college, and I’ll find a man exactly like you. Down to the premature ejaculation and entitlement. I’m never going to get back with you. I’ll never sleep with you again. I’ll never breathe the same air as you again and I’m done being polite about it. If you’d be ever so kind as to fuck off, I’ve got a life to get back to.”
I was mighty proud of my speech and that I’d maintained eye contact with him the entire time, never wavering despite how much tighter he began to hold me, how his eyes had narrowed into slits. I figured that some bruises on my upper arms and having to take out my emotions on a tub of Cool Whip were the worst possible ramifications of this interaction.
But I’d misjudged what would happen when an entitled, spoiled asshole was told no. Worse than that, when he was told the truth about who he was from someone he considered to be below him.
He shook me so hard my teeth rattled, blood rushing into my mouth as I bit my tongue. Hard.
“You fucking cunt,” he growled, spittle flying out of his mouth. “You’re trailer trash that needs to be taught your place.”
Then he punched me square in the face. Again, maybe that was another TSTL moment. I didn’t have time to analyze that because I fell to the ground. Because I hadn’t been expecting it. Hadn’t been braced for it, hadn’t been ready to defend myself in the slightest. Because I thought this clean-cut guy wearing fucking Brooks Brothers was not a threat to me.
He proved me wrong.
And he quite possibly would’ve killed me had Kallum not arrived when he did.
Kallum definitely would’ve killed Derek had he caught him. When Kallum’s headlights screeched into the parking lot, Derek sprinted off to his Porsche. He had sped off by the time Kallum made it to me.
Kallum had wanted to take chase, but I wasn’t really in the state to be left alone in the parking lot. He’d told me all of this after, once he’d carried me to his car and drove me straight to the ER. Things were somewhat of a blur from there. Everything was bright, sterile, loud.
Then they weren’t.
A dark shadow descended on my hospital room. A shadow in the shape of a man. Everything quieted, except my heart which thundered in my chest. It took me a couple of seconds to realize he was real, standing in the doorway. That I hadn’t begun hallucinating thanks to the drugs Sarah had given me. It was kinda funny that she was the one treating me. Not funny ‘ha ha’, more ... ironic, I guessed. She had been kind, gentle and very generous with the drugs.