Impulse

Emma sat in the backseat of Brian's large car, her body pushed into the corner, her head resting against her knees. She stared blankly ahead, tears falling from her eyes, the denim of her jeans soaking the liquid. She didn't want to look up, she didn't want to look down, she knew he was watching her.

She sniffled, wiping her face off with her bare arm, feeling the car come to a stop. She mumbled regrets to herself, she was afraid, her body was shaking, her arm throbbing where Brian had grabbed her. She was embarrassed, and she didn't know if she could face Julian again, if she got the chance to.

Suddenly, the door keeping her upright moved away from her, causing her to fall back, into Brian's chest. His large arm wrapped around her stomach, underneath her breasts as he pulled her out of the car. Her feet hit the ground, Brian's arm slamming the door shut. He pulled her towards the house, fast enough to where Emma couldn't keep up.

She closed her eyes, her feet dragging against the concrete as he pulled her to the front door. She didn't want to fight him, she knew it was going to make him angrier, and it was no use, she was aware that she wasn't going to get anywhere, she was going to end up in his arms again. She decided to cry this time.

Brian walked into the house, pulling Emma into the house behind him. Commanding her to shut the door with her foot, the second he heard the door slam, he pushed her to the floor, her head hitting the floor, causing her to hiss in pain. Brian walked over her, his feet on either side of her body.

His head was swimming, his anger killed his good mood. He had plans for when Emma came home, he had text her only moments before finding her at the cafe with that man. He couldn't wait, he text her that he was coming to pick her up, and he was going to take her to the carnival. He felt hurt, betrayed, and angry that she was spending her time with another man.

His love and impatience had switched to anger the moment he saw the two. They looked happy, laughing with one another, making conversation. Brian didn't know who he was, and why she was with him. He was going to make her cry, scream, bleed, make her feel every bit of pain he felt when he saw them together.

Hand full of blond hair, Brian brought Emma's face close to his. Her make up was running down her face, mixed with the tears, leaving grey and black markings behind. He examined her face, his fist tightening, his arms shaking as she cried out in pain. He didn't say anything, he didn't blink, he stared into her large blue eyes.

Letting her body fall to the floor, he stood up, for once not knowing what to do to her. Punching, and kicking didn't seem to satisfy him. He was at loss of ideas, he was confused, and the urge to cause pain was starting to fade. He turned around, looking down at Emma, she stared up at the ceiling, he was going to find out who he was.

"Who is he?" He asked.

Stomping over, Brian placed his foot on top of Emma's small hand, forcing all of his weight onto her fragile hand. She cried in pain, her arm bent at the elbow. She was crying, her voice was hoarse as she pleaded for him to stop. He smirked to himself, looking down at her, his foot becoming heavier. Sobbing, Emma's hand gripped his jeans, tugging.

He looked away from her, stepping off of her hand, not wanting to see her cry. A change of heart, he thought. It would only be temporary, he hoped. Brian looked up at the ceiling, he was ashamed of himself, he would admit to that any day, his mother and father always taught him never to lay his hand on a woman.

"Who is he?" He repeated himself.

"A-a friend. I swear" Emma sobbed from the floor.

Brian turned, his foot swiftly connecting with Emma's ribs in a hard, swift kick. She bit her lip, holding in a sob as she placed her hand on her ribs, holding onto them as she struggled to pull herself into the fetal position, her body protesting when Brian's foot struck her stomach. He looked down at his wife, his jaw clenching.

"Please, Brian. Stop. N-no more" She pleaded.

Pleads fell upon deaf ears, multiple kicks to her abdomen told her that. She let herself scream, and cry. Anything to make him stop quicker, to make him loose interest. Her vision doubled, due to a kick to her head. She could feel the throbbing begin, the dull feeling would enhance, she knew from experience.

She figured pleading would do no good, and crying only brought him more pleasure. Her hand was throbbing, her ribs and stomach hot, hurting. Another kick to the stomach, she could feel bile rising, she was going to vomit if he didn't stop. A kick to her ribs, she backed away from him, hitting the back of the couch.

Brian ran his fingers through his black hair, looking down at his wife. Her hand was out, shaking as if to tell him to stop. She buried her face into the crook of her elbow, her voice muffled as she spoke. Her arm was draped over her stomach, her knees touching her elbow. Shaking his head, Brian quickly left the house.

Hearing the front door slam shut, Emma looked up. Listening quietly, she heard Brian's car start, quickly speeding out of the parking spot. Sniffling, Emma sat up slowly, leaning against the couch. She pulled her hair from its now loose bun, she sighed. Running her fingers over the forming sore spot on her scalp, she crawled into the living room.

Setting herself down on the couch, she looked up at the TV, The Marvelous Misadventures Of Flapjack was on. She laid herself down on the couch, Emma reached for her house phone, turning it on. She had to get her car somehow, she had to pick Amelia up from school soon. Dialing Jane's number, she held the phone to her ear.

"Hello?" Came her cheery voice.

"Hey, can you come pick me up and take me to my parents? I left my car at home" She asked.

"Yeah! I was just about to head out now. I'll be over there soon, but quick question" She said.

"Thanks, and what do you want to ask?" She asked.

"Who's Julian?" Jane asked, she could see her smiling.

"Uhm, a friend. I met him like... yesterday. Why?" She asked.

"I called your phone, and he answered, twice"

Emma furrowed her eyebrows, going silent. She closed her eyes, trying to remember where she left her phone, remembering that she left it on the table, she bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut as she fisted her hair in frustration, hanging up the phone.

He had her phone.