You'll Never Lose Me (Never 4)
It’s strange how this has worked out, me, Noah and Harrison sharing a house. There’s room for at least five more people to move in, not that it will happen. I haven’t spoken to Amias and even though he tried to make it happen, Devon wouldn’t allow it. As for Elijah, I don’t even know where he is. I think Noah may still be in contact with him but I’m not going to ask, things are too confusing for all that.
We haven’t spoken about what is going on between the three of us. I’m still not doing great with physical contact and we’re always skirting around one another. It’s not awkward as such and I know Noah is waiting for me to go to him, but I’m not sure about Harrison. Is he waiting for me to be ready? Is he over it and ready to move on or has he already moved on and just scared to tell me?
“Get out of your head Henleigh, you know that’s a terrible place for you to go right now,” Harrison says, coming to stand before me and bending at the knees to meet my eyes.
We’ve been here for three months and the nightmares haven’t gone away or gotten any easier. They always rush into my room, but seeing as they can’t hold me all they can do is stand there and watch me battle my demons and fall apart at the seams.
“Sorry, I was just thinking about how everything has changed,” it comes out quieter than I planned, fear controls so much of me now. The only thing I haven’t let it do is come between me and my future. Although going to college four days a week is only just becoming bearable.
“Not everything woman, I think there are certain things that will never change despite what you do or believe,” I don’t know what he’s trying to get at and his eyes are growing dark as he starts grinding his teeth and clenching his knuckles.
I can’t do this, angry people scare the living shit out of me now. I hate that I’m curling in on myself as I sink to the floor and hug my knees to my chest but I guess it’s to be expected. PTSD is what my counsellor says I have, apparently talking about it could help but I don't want to talk to an utter stranger. I’d rather talk to one of my guys, I just won’t. They do not deserve to have to shoulder even more of my baggage than they already are. This is what I’m telling myself anyway, if I’m being honest with myself, I think it’s also because I don’t want them to look at me with pity in their eyes.
“What’s going on?” I can hear the panic in Noah’s voice, it’s grounding me but not enough to chase the flashbacks away completely.
“I was trying to get her to realise that she hasn’t lost us, I mustn’t have been concealing my emotions as well as I thought,” he says and I swear I can hear Noah rolling his eyes or maybe he’s shaking his head this time.
“You know we can’t push her, we talked about this.”
Hang on, they've been discussing this, discussing me. Why am I only hearing about this now?
“You’ve been talking about me,” it comes out as sharp as a Japanese blade, if a tongue could cut they’d be bleeding out before my very eyes as I bring my head up to stare right through them.
“It isn’t like that Leighbear,” Noah says softly but Harrison snorting is not helping him to convey his message of innocence.
“Give it a break mate, she isn’t a complete numpty now is she,” he says before setting his gaze on me. “What did you expect woman, you won’t talk to us or let us in and it fucking well hurts seeing you suffer and fall apart right before us, knowing we can’t help you. You won’t even let us try,” his eyes are wild and his fist gets lost inside the door of our kitchen before he thrusts it open and storms off.
“He didn’t mean anything by it,” Noah says weakly and we can both hear the dishonesty in his voice, it wouldn’t even fool a child.
“Of course he did, I tried to let you both go but you wouldn’t listen. How long until you regret it?” I’m not even going to wait for his answer, I just want to be alone.
“HELLO BROWNIE, FANCY SEEING YOU HERE,” I can’t believe he’s laughing at his own joke. It’s bad enough I’m chained up like a circus animal back in the olden days, let alone having to deal with these bellends and I swear Finley is a few screws short of a complete set.
“Does it make you feel big, tormenting a girl who is chained up in your basement like some cheap arse horror film?” The only issue is, I can’t hide the fear from my voice or eyes completely.
“No, but it’s fun. I can see why my family enjoyed it so much,” he’s throwing his head back and laughing, he’s a stark raving lunatic. “Plus it helps that you’re not a complete munter, and I’ve always been drawn to gorgeous people,” he says as he comes closer while licking his lips.
“It’s a shame the same can’t be said about you, it doesn’t matter how the wrapper looks when there is nothing but mould and rot lying beneath it,” anger is the only thing that is getting me through this, that and the hope that someone will find me despite how little the odds are in my favour.
“What do you say Brownie, how about a shag before you die? At least you’ll be able to say that you were fucked by a real man,” he says it as he grabs himself through his trousers before throwing both his arms out to the side and slowly turning full circle.
“I’d rather burn to death than ever let you touch me,” I spit out as he drops down on his knees before me.
He lays his hand on my cheek, I flinch away and in return he smacks me hard enough that I bite my tongue and the taste of iron floods my mouth.
“Careful what you say Brownie, I can make things a thousand times worse than they’ve already been,” he grips my shoulders and pulls me up before slamming me into a wall.
Fuck the consequences, he’s asking for it. I spit the pool of blood into his face as my knee shoots up into his groin.
“You bitch,” he wheezes out as he cups himself and hunches over.
Fuck, what’s going to happen now?
His fist comes up into my jaw the moment he rights himself, as he sends another one into my stomach. A violent cough works its way through me, as more blood hits the floor at my feet.
“You really are a proper barmy cow aren’t you or maybe you like pain, if that is the case you’re really going to enjoy what happens next,” he comes closer as he grabs the back of my head and throws me to the floor, before flipping me onto my back.
He sits on top of my stomach and I can’t even bring myself to buck him off in case the sick tosser gets off on it. He’s reaching into his back pocket and my heart is barely beating, I’m so overcome with fear I can’t even form a coherent thought. He pulls out a set of knuckle dusters before slipping them onto his hand and sending it into my face. That’s the only strike he does there, but I lose count of how many times he hits me in my ribs, side and stomach. I’ve cried and screamed so much that my voice is faltering and breaking under the strain. He slips them off before pushing down on my chest and pulling out a screwdriver from his back pocket, I don’t even want to know what else he’s got hiding back there.