Page 85 of Has-Been
“Little incident in the spray bay, babe. Nothing to worry about.”
She let out a low curse and slapped my arm, lifting those haunted blue eyes to mine as I turned to look at her in surprise.
“Don’t lie to me, please don’t fucking start lying now. I can’t take that too.”
I set my plate aside and moved hers too, turning to face her, but I saw the horrified look on her face when I moved. She’d seen the stitches, and the bruising on the back of my head.
“He hurt you too. He said he did. He said he’d left you forever changed or something like that. I was so scared. He even hinted that you were dead.”
I took her hand and squeezed it, realising that I almost never had the chance to do this again. I thought I’d never see her again, and now I had her back, she had to be my priority always.
“He knocked me out in the spray bay, and poured the ready mixed paint into my locs, and over my colours. There was no option but to shave my head, because Doc couldn’t stitch me up until it was all gone. It’s no big deal, hair grows back, right?” It was a huge fucking deal at the time, but it had paled in comparison to realising she was missing. My fucking old lady.
“I’m sorry, Has. I know that must have been awful-”
“Nothing was as awful as being told you were gone. I was going out of my mind, because I failed you again. I keep promising to keep you safe, and I keep fucking it up. I’m so sorry, babe.”
Elise let out a sharp breath, pulling her hand away from mine, and wringing both hands together in her lap.
“I can’t handle you blaming yourself for any of this, Has. We’ve both been victims of his, and it needs to stop now. I need to know that this isn’t going to be something that taints our entire relationship. We can stop him if we all pull together and stop looking for anyone else to blame, because it’s him. Just him. He’s the monster and… and he… oh god… I thought he was going to kill me, you know? I’d never get to be your old lady, and never see you or Seth again.”
Jesus. I gently took her hands, before she twisted them into a pretzel, and held them in mine.
“Babe, you’re right, but look… we’ll figure it out and we’ll take him down. We just need to figure out who the fuck he is. Did you see anything that might help us work out who he is? Was his voice familiar? Did he have an accent? I’m assuming he was masked or something?”
I felt her shudder as she squeezed her eyes closed.
“He had no face, because he wore a helmet. All I saw was me.”
Fifty-Three
Ihatedhavingtorememberanything about him. I hated having to let myself focus on anything outside of this room, and on anyone besides Has. I’d nearly lost him, because even though I’d been taken away from him, he’d been attacked, and I didn’t doubt that the bastard meant to kill him.
He looked so different without his dreads. He looked younger, more vulnerable, more troubled and damaged than he’d ever looked before. Had I ever noticed the small scar up by his hairline before? No, because it was hidden. I wondered how it had happened, and whether it was from something fun, like him playing as a kid and getting into some kind of mishap, or whether it was from something he’d rather forget. It was the only reason I didn’t ask, because I didn’t want to send him back to a bad memory.
“Babe?” Has squeezed my hands, and I realised I’d fallen silent on him. Damn. I forced myself to try and picture the monster who’d taken me.
“He was big. Uh… muscular, but he’d covered up well. He wore a black motorcycle helmet, and gloves, and long sleeves. He was careful to hide anything that might identify him. I couldn’t see any ink or…oh god…”
My heart stuttered in my chest as I realised Ihadseen ink. I’d seen very distinctive ink, hadn’t I? Somewhere really personal and gross and… and I didn’t want to picture it, or remember it. I didn’t want to force my mind to focus on it, or see it again.
“Elise? What… you remembered something? Will it help us?”
I swallowed hard against the rising bile as memories assaulted me. Being trapped with that bastard, and the way he stroked his dick and groaned with pleasure, jerking off over my face, and coating my skin, and my hair, with his cum.
I gagged and lurched out of the bed, running to the bathroom, and barely making it before I lost everything I’d managed to put in my stomach.
“Babe, Jesus.” I flinched as I felt a hand rest on my shoulder, before I remembered that it was the only hand I wanted touching me. I hated that he pulled away the moment I did that.
“Sorry.”
Has crouched beside me, making sure I could see him in my peripheral vision.
“What can I do, babe? Tell me. Give me something I can fucking do, because I’m losing my shit here.”
I shuddered as another wave of nausea hit me, but I wasn’t sick this time.
“Water. Can you get me water please?”
