Page 64 of Redemption

“You two do realize that half the windows are open, and I can hear everything you’re sayin’, right?” My head swings in the direction of my father’s voice. “Don’t worry about me; it sounds like you kids have some things to sort out. I was just headin’ out and heard the smoke alarm. Wanted to make sure everything was all right. I’ll talk to you later.”

I can feel all the blood rushing to my face in mortification as I hear my dad’s truck kicking up gravel. “Oh, God.”

Beckett grabs the pan off the stove, tosses it in the sink with a loud clank, and grips the edge of the counter with his back turned to me. I can see his muscles tensing as he takes labored breaths.

“Beck—”

He spins around, fists clenched and nostrils flaring. “I said, get dressed, Presley! Now!”

My blood immediately turns cold when I see the look on Beckett’s face as he’s yelling. My feet can’t carry me back to the bedroom fast enough. I slam the door, lock it behind me, and put my hands on my knees, telling myself to calm down. Unfortunately, that doesn’t stop the tears from pouring down my face as I begin to hyperventilate. I fall to the floor, chest aching, gasping for air. I whimper when I hear the doorknob jiggle.

“Pres, open the door.”

My forehead moves from side to side on the hard floor, but I can’t speak. I’m nauseated as my lungs wheeze, and hacking coughs wrack my body. Black spots dot my vision.

“Presley, goddammit, open the door!” The knob jiggles harder, and something slams into the wood, making me jump. “You’re scaring the shit out of me. Don’t make me break this damn thing down.”

I wail, lost to the panic, trapped in a loop of awful images that won’t stop flashing through my head. I curl into a ball and rock back and forth, begging a God I no longer believe in to make it stop. Another series of curses and bangs before the door to the bedroom blasts open, with a furious man standing in the middle. I immediately scramble for safety.

“Presley, damn it, stop moving!”

When he grabs at me, I kick my legs, landing a solid blow somewhere that makes him grunt. I look around, frantically trying to find an escape route. The window would take too long, so my only hope is getting past him and out the door. Unconcerned about my nudity, I hop up and over the bed and start sprinting for the door, arms flailing when I see him coming at me from the side. The wind is knocked out of me when he tackles me to the ground, but I keep fighting. I can’t let him win. I won’t ever let him win again.

“Get off of me!” I scream at the top of my lungs, digging my nails into his arms. When that doesn’t work, I clamp my teeth down, pulling back when my mouth fills with the metallic taste of blood.

“Jesus Christ, that fucking hurt! Presley, what’s the matter with you? Calm the hell down.”

“I said, get off me!” I keep squirming, refusing to give in, refusing to let him beat me down again. I know if I do, I’m dead. He’ll kill me for sure this time.

He lies on top of me, using his weight advantage to immobilize me. “Honey, you gotta calm down before you really hurt yourself. It’s me, Pres! Beckett! Baby, you’re scaring me. You need to snap out of it.” He tightens his hold. It feels like there’s a boa constrictor wrapped around my lungs. “Please, Presley, snap out of it. Tell me what to do to make it better. I’m so sorry you’re going through this. I’m so fucking sorry, Pres. Just please, fucking come back to me. I need you. I need you, baby. Please.”

I don’t know which part finally makes it register. Once my mind clears, and I realize who I’m with, I release a shuddering breath, which is easier said than done with over two hundred pounds on top of you.

“Beck... can’t breathe.”

“Shit. Sorry.”

He immediately sits back, which allows my lungs to fully expand. I lie on the floor with my eyes closed, trying to regulate my breathing. I know Beckett is staring at me. I can feel it, especially when he releases a choked curse. He’s probably cataloging every little scar on my back from the lash of Sebastian’s belt. The razor-thin marks on my hips from my own pathetic attempts to distract myself from the agony I felt on the inside. The fucking initials carved right above my backside, so my psychotic husband could see his name on me every time he took me from behind.

I carefully angled my back away from Beckett last night, but now he’s seeing me in all my shameful glory. There’s no sense in trying to hide my body from him now. I’m sure all the little pieces clicked together while I was in the process of having a meltdown. The only man I’ve ever truly loved is going to know that I broke his heart and ran straight into the arms of a devil. Beck’s going to see how weak I was to stay with a man who tormented me daily simply because it gave him a sick sense of satisfaction.

The marks on my body are nothing compared to the ones you can’t see. And now, thanks to my epic panic attack, Beck is intimately familiar with those invisible scars. He’s well aware the girl he fell in love with no longer exists. That my mind is so warped, there’s no turning back. I can’t believe I snapped like that. Nothing like that has ever happened to me before. Usually, when Sebastian would come after me, I would retreat to this special place in my mind where I felt suspended from reality. I was always fully aware of what was happening, but I had somehow figured out how to numb myself against the horror of it all. I guess I’m not so numb anymore, am I?

The mind is a tricky thing. The longer I’d been away from Sebastian, the more hopeful I became. I actually believed the old me was coming back. I felt in time, I’d be okay. Just this morning, I thought I could even be worthy of Beckett’s love. His forgiveness. But if my freak out earlier taught me nothing else, it’s that I’m too damaged. I’ll never be the same, I’ll never be able to have a normal relationship, and now Beck knows that. He knows I’m not worth the effort.

“Pres.”

I hear him shifting behind me, right before he covers me with a blanket. See? That right there proves how disgusting he finds me.

“You don’t have to say it, Beckett. I know.”

“You know what?”

“That I’m pathetic. That I’m crazy. That you’re better off without me in your life. If you can just give me a few minutes to get dressed, I’ll be on my way, and I won’t bother you again.”

“Well, clearly you don’t know because I wasn’t going to say any of those things. I would never even think any of those things.”

“It’s okay; you don’t need to spare my feelings.” I gingerly sit up, careful to keep the blanket wrapped tightly around me.

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