Page 11 of Heavy

This isn’t going as I hoped.

I’m not even sure what I was hoping for, but moving back in with my parents isn’t an option. Honestly, it doesn’t feel fair that I’m the one getting kicked out.

“You’re my stepdad’s brother. He never mentioned you.”

He shuts the water off and sucks down half the cup before mindfully turning it back on to fill it again.

More silence.

“You do look like him.” That gives him pause, and as he takes a deep breath, his white shirt stretches over every glorious muscle. I feel the urge to inhale too, as if his breath leaves my own lungs aching for more. “Maybe that’s why I didn’t run straight for the block of knives to stab your ass for breaking and entering.”

A low, thunderous growl rumbles from his throat before he turns and charges into the living room, searching for something. He glances around, sets the water down on the coffee table, then drops to his knees and lifts the couch.

“Uh…”What is he doing?

He stands, scanning the room before his gaze locks onto the stone fireplace. I follow his line of sight and spot my phone on the wooden floating shelf, plugged into the only outlet in the room.

I swear he huffs, and that’s when I realize what he’s about to do.

“No!” I scream, but he’s already stomping toward it.

I dart around the kitchen island and leap over the couch but he’s far closer, his hand already reaching for my phone by the time I’m at his side. I don’t even know why I’m worried; it’s password protected.

He yanks the charger out just as I stretch to grab my phone.

Before I can react he grabs my wrist, and in one swift motion, slams my back against the jagged stones of the fireplace. I gasp as his hand moves so quickly, stealing the air from my lungs as he wraps his fingers around my throat.

I instinctively bring my hands up to grasp his forearm, but he tenses.

“Hands off me,” he growls.

“F-Fuck you!” My nails dig into his skin, but they aren’t sharp or even my own. They’re acrylic, and I can feel them starting to peel back as I press down with as much force as I can muster.

He doesn’t even flinch.

“Do not touch me.” He leans in, and his presence suffocates me even more than his grip. The scent of the surrounding forest mingles with the smoky aroma of an amber fire, filling my nostrils. My body screams at me to fight, but my mind urges me to let him unleash whatever violence he desires.

As I try to swallow, his grip loosens just enough for me to take a breath—more of a wheeze than anything.

I shouldn’t be obedient. I should fight back like I know how, but instead, I put my hands up as if I’m being arrested while he steps closer, keeping our bodies apart by the slightest margin. My phone presses against my fingers, sandwiched between our hands. The moment I hear a soft click, he retreats, releasing me in the process.

I don’t want to be dramatic, but I instinctively grasp my neck and rub at it. He was anything but gentle, and a twisted part of me craves that force to leave bruises on my skin.

He's swiping through my phone when I cough out, “Please, wait. I—don’t tell them.”

“Maybe I’ll call your mother, seems like you and my brother aren’t that close considering you have him in your phone as ‘Eamon’,” he scoffs and continues scrolling. After a dozen or so swipes, he slowly turns his head and narrows his eyes at me.

I’m not entirely sure why he is looking at me that way.

“No mom.” It isn’t delivered as a question, but a discovery of facts.

That’s right. It’s been so long since I’ve added her number into my phone, I forgot I had put it under “Jasmine”.

“Listen, she knows I’m here. Odds are Eamon will tell her anyway…”

Yeah right.

He tsks and says, “Something tells me not.”

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