Page 49 of Chasing the Flame
I light up a cigarette instead, my hands shaking uncontrollably. All the pent-up rage and fear are scratching at my insides, a festering wound that won’t seem to close.
It’s on my second drag that I hear it. A shrill scream that has my blood curdling, fear sending my heart thumping wildly against my ribcage. I pause, thinking maybe I imagined it, and then I hear it again. Another shrill, mournful cry that sends me racing back toward the house… toher.
Averie needs me, consequences be damned.
When the door slams shut, I put as much distance between Luke and me as possible.
Darting through the living room, and down the hall, the memory of my whispered words burning in my chest. I love Jettson, and I meant it. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure he makes it away from here.
So, I run, sprinting down the hall and toward our bedroom. I make it and lock the door behind me, quickly springing into action. I’ve just shoved the dresser in front of the door when the first bangs start. “Averie…”
He bangs again, this time louder than the last. “Averie, I swear to fucking god if you don’t open this door!” He yells, banging again and again. Then, it sounds like he runs into the door, a loud boom echoing through the house. I toss a silent prayer up to the god and goddess he worships, asking Nytherion and Liora to hear my pleas, begging for protection.
The next blast sends me flying into a wall, the force so hard that I know he must’ve used magic. The impact knocks the breath from my lungs, and I grip my throat in panic, trying to forcemyself to inhale. I manage a shaky breath or two before Luke storms into the room. He’s on me in a matter of seconds.
Luke’s grip is tight on my throat, his eyes blazing with fury. He doesn’t cut off my air supply, but thrusts me up against the bedroom wall, blocking me in. “Did you fuck him?!”
I shake my head no vehemently, knowing damn good and well I didn’t. He leans down to my ear, his breath a hot whisper against my neck, “You must’ve, you filthywhore.”
My skin crawls, worry and fear weaving into my chest. I shake my head no again, silently begging him to let me go. He leans back to look at me, his hand trailing down my body in an imaginary line. I’m trembling, nausea crashing through me as he touches me. Takes from me.
Tears fall on my chest, splattering against his hand. Luke’s gaze snaps to mine, a cruel grin spreading across his face. He leans down and licks the wetness trailing down my face, groaning in ecstasy. “Fuck, yes… cry. Baby, Iwantyour tears, your pain… your blood.”
I’m full-on sobbing now, and understanding floods me. He’s not going to let me walk away from this room alive. I’ll die here.
I should’ve left with Jettson. The thought of him sparks a kernel of hope inside me. I scream, thrashing wildly and buck against Luke with everything I have. My head swims with the exertion, a sting of pain from my temple knocking the breath from my lungs.
He laughs, the sound sending a bolt of fear skittering down my spine. “Oh,poorAverie.” He grips my neck tighter, cutting off my oxygen supply. Luke leans in and whispers, “Keep screaming, love. I like it when you fight.”
Then he yanks me from the wall, throwing me onto the bed with a thunk. I scramble away from him, but he grabs hold of my ankles and pulls me back, locking me in place. He grabs at his belt with one hand,keeping a tight grip on one of my ankles with the other. I kick hard with my free leg, hoping to hit him, but it’s useless.
He rips my jeans off, shoving them down, and yanks me closer to him. His dick is already hard, and I wail, crying out for Jettson. I slap at Luke, bucking wildly with my hips. Flailing around like a wildcat, I use my arms as weapons, making it hard for him to keep a solid grip on my body.
A crash sounds in the background, but I’m focused on survival. The clock is ticking, and I have to get out from under him. I won’t let him take from me again.
Another crash, this time closer, a snarl reverberating through the house. In a flash, Luke is being pulled off me and tossed across the room. Luke jumps up and scrambles backward, trying to run from him. Jettson roars, rushing him, and throwing a wild punch.
The two throw swings at each other, Luke managing another painful hit to Jettson’s nose. I cringe when a crack fills the air. Jettson snarls again, the sound deep and filled with warning. He shoves Luke, knocking him down and swiftly kicks him in the ribs. Luke cowers, and Jettson drops down, straddling Luke and putting every bit of rage behind his punches. He hits him over and over again, and I sit in shock as blood goes flying around the room.
The hits are like strikes of lightning, the cracks so thunderous that it’s all I can focus on. Luke’s face is almost unrecognizable, covered with copious amounts of blood. Then, for a brief second, clarity comes flooding back, and I scream, “Jettson,stop!!”
He stills immediately, his questioning gaze snapping to mine. Jettson holds my gaze, breathing heavily, one hand still clenched around Luke’s throat. I swallow hard. “Don’t kill him, I want to watch him suffer in court when I testify against him.”
He growls, stiffly nodding once. Jettson rises and comes across the room straight to me, taking me in his arms. His fingers find my temple, and the back of my head, examining me with tenderness. Healing energy floods my veins, and I let out a little gasp as I feel the gash on my head mend itself. For a second I linger, needing to feel his skin against mine, and the strength he pours into me. “I’m okay,” I whisper after a few minutes, my voice cracking.
“You’re safe now, I’ve got you,” he says with a sigh, kissing my forehead and pulling me off the bed. He helps me get my jeans back up, goes straight into my closet, and grabs two bags, tossing in as much as possible. “Go grab your laptop and anything else you can’t live without for a bit. We’ll come back with the police later to get your things. Hurry, he’s out cold, but I’m not sure how long that will last.”
I nod at him and trail down the hall to my office. My backpack is already in the room, so I pack quickly, grabbing my laptop, earbuds, and my binder full of notes. Then I walk across the room and seize my tarot decks, the few crystals I own, and my palo santo stick, shoving them deep in the bottom of my bag for safekeeping. When I exit my office, Jettson is meeting me in the hall. “Let’s go,” he whispers, and I follow him toward the front of the house.
My wallet and keys are still on the table in the foyer. Jettson nods at me, casting a lingering glance toward the hall. I don’t hesitate, snatching them up, and follow him out the front door, leaving the shambles of my life behind.
We don’t stop for over an hour, not until we’re far outside of Liberty. We’re on the outskirts of a small town I don’t recognize, but Jettson seems confident of where he’s going.
I don’t think it’s fully sunk in yet.
That I’ve left, that it was the last time Luke will ever hurt me, that I’m free. The previous word chokes me up, and I bite back the sob trying to climb up my throat. Flashes of the entire ordeal are playing on a loop in my mind. I can’t seem to move past all the screaming, the violence, and the blood.
I feel sick all over again.
