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I had scratched, clawed, punched, and kicked. But every attempt I made earned me another blow from his fist.

And the lamp. It had been knocked off my nightstand. He used it. That’s how I received two broken ribs. It was the lamp.

I couldn’t move after he hit me with it, the pain so unbearable I could only lie there like dead weight while he tore into me. I winced from the recollection, the hurt as fresh as it was two years ago.

I vaguely realized Trevor was laughing, forcing my attention back to the present. His easy dismissal of the violence I had endured caused my fury to mount to an astonishing level. I needed him gone before I did something drastic.

“I said go away, Trevor. That’s the last time I’m going to say it.” My voice shook, making the discernable warning sound pathetic.

“Or what?”

I squared my shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. I would not allow myself to be intimidated by him again.

“I’m here with someone. Trust me when I say you don’t want to be here when he gets back.”

“Maybe he could join us,” he suggested with a wink, reaching for me. When his hand made contact with my arm, I felt like I had been burned.

“Don’t touch me—ever!” I exploded, pulling away from him. “Don’t look at me! Don’t talk to me! Just get away from me!”

Trevor jumped back, startled by my outburst. Given a chance, I would have thrown something at him—anything to inflict some sort of damage to the face I hated above all others. However, a member of club security showed up out of nowhere and stepped in between Trevor and me.

“Is there a problem, Miss?”

“No problem at all,” Trevor answered for me, hands held up in mock surrender. “Just a misunderstanding.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” the security guy asked again. He was a big, beefy man with small eyes. He wore a black T-shirt with yellow lettering boasting his title of Floor Security Manager. He didn’t look trustworthy to me, so I just nodded my response and turned away.

“I think you’d better be on your way,” the manager suggested to Trevor.

“Sure thing. I was just leaving. I already tapped that one anyways. She’s a terrible fuck,” I heard Trevor say.

I glanced over my shoulder only to see Trevor glaring at me, but he backed away and disappeared into the crowd.

I couldn’t speak. My nerves were shot, and I was trembling so badly my knees threatened to buckle. I needed to sit down somewhere. But most of all, I needed to leave this place.

What is taking Alexander so long?

I contemplated just leaving without him but found an open bar stool and sat down instead. I scanned the sea of people around me, but I wasn’t really seeing them. I felt like I was in a bad dream—as if my surroundings were just an illusion. And for the second time that evening, I questioned why I wanted to come here so badly. With my history, a place like this should have terrified me. Everything about the club screamed of domination—the very thing I had shied away from for years.

So why do I want it from Alexander? Or don’t I?

Perhaps there was something mentally wrong with me. I had read about women who continued making the same mistakes, about the ones who jumped from one abusive situation to the next. They neurotically sought relationships that mirrored previous ones with the hope they would somehow turn out differently.

Is my traumatic history making me choose the wrong things?

The club’s loud music pulsed in time to the rapid beating of my heart as I considered the possibility. I thought I enjoyed the things Alexander and I did together, and my relationship with him was different than my relationship with Trevor. However, I now found myself questioning whether or not they were actually one and the same.

Am I just fooling myself?

I began to analyze every emotion I had surrounding Alexander, not knowing if what I felt was real or if it was just something twisted in my psyche. However, I knew I was shaken from a bizarre sequence of events that had taken place over the past few hours. Between my mother, the club, Sasha, and seeing Trevor, it was near impossible to think clearly and rationally.

But no matter what the cause was for my angst, the damage was done. The lines were now blurry. I didn’t know who I was anymore or what I wanted.

I only knew it was time for me to reevaluate everything in my life, including my current relationship with Alexander.

Alexander

I splashed cold water on my face and looked at my reflection in the mirror. A tired bastard stared back at me. The strain over what happened with Sasha had exhausted me, and I regretted my decision to bring Krystina here.