Page 112 of Injustice and Absolution

It’s a toxic cycle that I didn’t realize I was tumbling through until this very moment.

Comfort.

Request.

Denial.

Argument.

Punishment.

Pleading.

Reconciliation.

Repeat.

I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to identify his pattern of behavior. I was lost in the whirlwind he swept me up in from the night we first met. But it’s time I put my foot down and stand up for myself, my morals, and my values.

“Did it occur to you to at least run it by me first? To give me the option?” I assert my displeasure toward his bold employment maneuver.

But I know before I finish speaking that I’ve gone too far, and it suddenly feels like I’ve put my foot down on a landmine.

So much for standing up for myself.

His amicable expression falls, replaced with anger and annoyance. Standing, he stalks toward me, and I regret coming in here.

“No,Delilah. It didn’t occur to me because this ismybusiness.Myfucking club.”

I shuffle backward as his speed increases, and one of his hands finds my neck as he backs me up into the door. With his other hand, he roughly fists the hair at the nape of my neck, pulling my head back so I’m looking up at him. Directly into his eyes.

“I ownit, just like I ownyou. So if I tell you to dance, you’re going to fucking dance. Got it?”

His lip snarls, baring his teeth, and I tremble against the wooden door behind me. But something inside me snaps. This is different than consenting to dance to make him happy. Last I checked,no oneowns me. I may work for him, live with him, fuck him... But I’m my own person, and I decide what I do with my body.

Where the fuck has this girl been all my fucking life? Or at least for the past couple weeks?

“No.” My voice shakes, but my stance is clear.

“Excuse me?” he growls but with less of a bite than a second ago. He’s probably baffled by my rejection.

“No,” I repeat, shuddering. “After the lap dance, you told me I could say no. That you would never force me to do something I didn’t want to do. And I don’t want to do this.”

I don’t know how I was able to get each and every word out without losing my nerve, my voice, without fainting from fear, but I did.

Drew looks no less furious than before, but he lets go of me. His eyes shuffle between mine as though he’s unsure who I am all of a sudden.

Without moving, I remain up against the door, uncertain and terrified of what will happen next.

Reaching forward again, Drew locks the door to his office. Before I even have a chance to blink, the back of Drew’s hand connects with the corner of my mouth.

I haven’t been hit since I was fifteen years old. The last time produced the black eye that changed my entire life.

Stars burst in my vision as memories I’ve tried to keep buried resurface, one right after the other.

All of them starring my father.

He’s hitting me.

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