Hero

The lights were off when she entered the house, a handful of groceries skimming the floor in her grasp. Making sure to lock the brass key lock behind, she padded quietly into the kitchen, hoping and praying that he wasn’t home. But she knew he was there, he always was.

With a flick of the switch the bright lights glazed the kitchen. She immediately dropped the groceries into a corner on the kitchen floor, silently of course. Tiptoeing to the keyrack against the peach walls, she dropped her car keys onto the hook before heading back to the unpacked groceries.

She had just bent over the bags when she heard his maddening footsteps approaching.

‘Oh God’ she thought quietly.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” Jordan mumbled, leaning himself onto the marbled counter.
“Oh, did I wake you?” his fiancée asked shyly, reaching into the bag and grabbing a box of gram crackers and cheetohs.

“No,” he muttered gruffly, “I just came out of the shower actually.”
Jordan whisked his fingers through his damp hair, eyeing his fiancée suspiciously as she continued crouching to put away the groceries.

“Where were you?” he asked.

Was he serious?! Did he not see the mountain of grocery bags beneath his bare feet?

“I was at Publix, Jordan. Where else do they sell things in brown plastic bags with ‘Publix’ written on them?” Cynthia muttered daringly in response.

She then pushed past the now angry thirty-one year old man and pushed the snacks into their rightful place inside the pantry.

“You were at the damned supermarket for two hours?!” he blasted, pounding a fist against the countertop. He wore a pair of loose black jeans, which hung slackly at his hips with a belt, and nothing else.

“Well the lines were long!” she attempted to yell back, but her fear made her voice crack, her ‘yelling’ came out as puny and insignificant.

She had a carton of orange juice in her hand when he began his approach. Cynthia ‘s feet involuntarily treaded backwards, away from the upset lunatic in front of her. She tightened her grip around the juice when his glare took to new levels, hazel eyes oozing with fury.

The back of his balled fist made contact with her left cheek, which threw her body to the other side of the room and onto the linoleum floor. Her scream pelted throughout the kitchen, followed by her morbid sobs. The orange juice that had previously been in her grasp lay on the floor, dropped to the floor when she had been punched. Her bright green eyes mixed with a sandy brown were curtained with tears, her jet back tresses glued to her wet face. She sobbed even harder when he again approached her.

“I want to know where you went Cynthia!” he boomed, “If you were with Michael just tell me!”

She whimpered and held herself tightly, knowing that his rampage wasn’t over.
“I’m not lying. There were long lines at—“

Before Cynthia could even finish her statement, he had crouched down to her level, lifted his fist, and punched the vixen in the eye, the eye that had just healed. This time, no scream came from her mouth, only a small groan. She sobbed while holding her hand up to her entire face, expecting him to thrash his fist into her other eye. She prayed to the heavens that somehow a neighbor had called, and that police would be storming inside at any minute…

Jordan, still crouched in front of his fiancée stared at her in pity. He stared at her big colorful eyes, covered by her shaking hands, her onyx colored tendrils hanging ravenously in her face. Her tears dripping onto her full lips. He was in love with woman, but come on! Two hours at a grocery store, she was definitely cheating, or so he thought anyway.

When Jordan leaned into the vixen and tried to stroke her bruised cheek with his finger, she gasped and quickly retracted her entire body away from his touch. Her skirt rode up her thighs as she bent her knees and carefully backed away from his advances, unshielding her face so she could use her hands to crawl away from him.

Jordan frowned and locked eyes with the damsel. He continued staring at her as she backed away from him, her body slipping slowly into the living room. He watched the way her skirt now clung around her waist, he watched her eyes, filled with fear and tears glance at him and then her destination. He watched how her long legs continued bending as she crept away, how her panties disappeared and reappeared as her legs crosses and uncrossed.

This was definitely turning him on…

Cynthia saw the disgusting smirk on his lips as crawled towards her, mistaking her fear for lust. She resisted the urge to vomit all over his face when her eyes darted south, and she caught glimpse of a budding erection. And this was the worst part, him lusting after her after he had just beaten her. How dare he?!

She only turned her head for one quick second to see which direction she could take, before he lunged onto her. Straddling her petite waist, he muffled her frightened cries with his mouth, entangling his tongue with hers. Jordan’s hands immediately wandered to her hair, pulling at the gothic tresses, pressing his mouth harder against hers, blocking out her screams.

She hated him, hated the way he was bruising her lips. She tried pushing him away, but he continued to press his chest against hers, his erection poking her inner thigh, making her cringe in disgust.

With a knee to his groin, he shut his eyes in pure pain, his hands immediately cupping his balls as he rolled off Cynthia.
“You…ugh…you fucking bitch!” he stammered, rolling along the ground in pain.

She breathed a sigh of relief, not responding to his horrible insults. She wiped the tears from her eyes as she sprang up from the floor and fled towards the front door, not even her keys in her hand. Maybe she’d go to a neighbor or even Michael. But as soon as her fingers wrapped around the doorknob, he grabbed her elbows and flung her hard across the room.

“You fuckin’ bitch, that hurt!” he roared, already charging after her. She automatically shut her eyes and clenched her stomach, which prepared her for the punch to her jaw. She stumbled over to the wall, not even having a chance to breathe before he pulled her wrists and dragged her towards the couch.

He flung her onto the couch and removed his pants, his erection still up and standing.
“Jordan, no…please” she begged, huddling herself into the armrest, not wanting to feel his fingers crawl over her skin.

He didn’t even respond as he lay before her naked. Instead he hissed ‘shut up’ before laying himself on top of her and claiming her mouth wit his. She cried against his kisses as he savagely tore her blouse from her body, her skirt from her legs.

“Please” she cried out, sobbing when she felt his hands remove her panties. She knew it was going to be painful, that he would be the only one to enjoy it…

And when he had had his way with her, she was in fact correct. Her body ached as slept angelically against her bosom, his arms wrapped faintly around her small frame. She felt disgusting, as if her body were draped in pathogenic germs.

Sliding herself from beneath him, she picked up her clothes from the floor and walked crookedly towards the guest bedroom. She needed to leave this place, this life. She could remember when Jordan was her sweet boyfriend, when he made gentle love to her, when he wouldn’t even THINK of putting his hand to her face. As she clothed herself and sunk into the cool sheets, she thought of Adrienne, her best friend and comrade. How they used to spend weekends together, how she used to bring her godson’s Joey and Jakob along. And then her mind wandered onto him… Tre.