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Six years earlier
It’s just after midnight. I can hear the laughter and music from the party filtering up from the floor below, but it’s quickly drowned out by the loud thud in my ears and the sudden pain that knocks me backward.
I stumble, unable to find my footing. I hit the ground hard, my gaze shooting up to where Blake now hovers over me. My hand goes to my left cheek just as my eyes find his.
It’s hard to explain, what it feels like to have someone so close to you be the person you fear more than anyone else. And yet, even knowing what I know about Blake, I’ve continued to date him for months.
“You fucking bitch,” he hisses, rearing his hand back like he’s going to hit me again.
This is all my fault, of course it is. I know when to push him and when to leave him be. Now was not the time to drop the news of my pregnancy on him. Not after he’s been drinking and smoking all night.
I lift my arm in an effort to protect my face should he take another swing, but this only eggs him on more. Grabbing my forearm, he rips my arm up, his fingers biting viciously into my flesh.
“You think I don’t know what you’re doing.” He lays a hard backhand to my cheek, releasing my arm at the same time so that the force of his hand knocks me to my back, causing my head to bounce against the hard flooring.
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stutter through the fresh tears that seep from my eyes, trying to gather my bearings.
“Fuck you, Bree.” Blake positions himself over top of me, leaning down to grab a handful of my hair before jerking my head up so that his face is inches from mine. “You’re a fucking whore. Who fucking knows who the father of that kid is. Probably one of your mommy’s little fucking boyfriends. I know how much you enjoy her sloppy seconds.” His words are like a knife to my chest.
Blake is one of the only three people I have confided in about some of the details of my childhood. Tess and Courtney being the other two. I regretted it the moment I told him; I regret it even more now. The fact that he would take something so personal, so painful, and use it against me hurts more than any physical pain he could ever deliver.
“Either way,” he continues. “I do know that it’s not fucking mine.”
“Blake,” I plead, making an attempt to push myself up only to be shoved back down with the force of his stocky build.
I want to tell him that I didn’t want this either—that I didn’t plan for this to happen—but it’s clear that even if I could get the words out he’d likely not believe a word of it.
I open my mouth to try another angle, but then I hear, “What the fuck?” and my eyes jerk toward the stairs to find Tess standing just feet behind Blake.
No. No. No.
My stomach twists violently, and I swear my heart lodges itself somewhere in my throat making it hard for me to breathe.
She won’t understand.It’s all I can think.
“Tess.” I quickly climb to my feet, trying to wipe away the mascara I know is streaked down my face.
“What the fuck?” she repeats louder, eyes bouncing from Blake to me and then back to Blake.
“It’s nothing,” I quickly try to explain. “I just fell. I’ve had too much to drink.”
“You fell or he hit you?” she grinds out, hands clenching at her sides.
“What?” I blurt, trying my damnedest to play stupid. But I know Tess well, and I know instantly that she sees right through me.
“Why don’t you go back downstairs, Tess. This isn’t any of your business.” Blake steps in front of my best friend, essentially blocking her from me.
“None of my business?” Tess questions, anger laced in her voice. “None of my business?” she questions again. “You hit my friend, and you’re telling me it’s none of my business,” she screams in his face, stepping up to Blake in a way I would never dare.
Her small frame looks so fragile stacked against his, and yet she stands her ground without the slightest ounce of fear in her expression.
“I said, go the fuck downstairs, Tess.” His voice is laced in warning.
Please, Tess, just go. Just go. I’m pleading with her, but I can’t seem to actually push the words out.
“No!” She meets my gaze over Blake’s shoulder. “Bree, go, now.”
“Tess.” I swipe angrily at the tears I can’t seem to stop from falling. “Please,” I plead with her.
