Kiss and Tell

I sat in shock, looking over the features that I once swore I was in love with. He gave me an award winning smile, which used to be my weak spot. I tensed, glued to my seat, afraid to move a muscle. How the hell did he get here and how did he know where the fuck to find me?

Vince leaned over, closer to me, and wrapped his hand tightly around his beer, “Babe?” he cooed.

I swallowed hard, looking in his eyes, unable to respond.

“Why’d you leave?” he asked quietly, leaning over to play with a strand of my hair, I pulled away, “I messed up, I made a mistake, but I love you- you know that.”

I shifted in my seat, noticing the flicker of rage in his eyes when I denied his affection, but he pushed it away just as quickly as I’d seen it. I didn’t want to cause a scene, not on Jonathan’s birthday. I was not going to draw attention to myself and my problems once again; I’d done that far too much.

I looked at Vince’s blue eyes again, “Mistakes?”

He nodded, smiling again and bringing his hand to my elbow, brushing his thumb across it, “You know I didn’t mean it.”

“You didn’t mean to hit me?” I spat, trying to fight off the fear I felt in the back of my mind, “You didn’t mean to beat the living fuck out of me, every chance you got?”

He glared at me, “I said I was sorry.”

I shook my head, still trying to remain calm so that nobody got curious, “Sorry doesn’t make up for the broken bones, or the times I’d wake up on the floor dripping blood, Vince.”

“You deserved it, half of the time!” He spat back, his ‘loving’ eyes finally becoming fully overwhelmed by the ones of rage, “You need to learn when to stay the fuck away from me, that’s all, I wouldn’t hit you if I didn’t need to!”

I pushed myself away, like I was getting up to walk away, “I think you should leave, Vince.”

He snapped forward and grabbed my wrist, pulling me back to him, nearly sending me tripping over my own feet. I saw Brent get up, and slowly begin to edge toward us, watching out of the corner of his eye. Sharpie was also near, but I couldn’t see anyone else past that. Plus, he’d perfected this so many times before that this didn’t look threatening- it looked willing.

“We’re leaving, you’re coming home.”

I panicked, tears burning the back of my eyes and fear striking me, “L-Let go of me.”

“Now.”

“Fuck you,” I spat.

That was it, his fist drew back and he punched me directly in the face. I stumbled backward, being overwhelmed by the pain that I’d become so familiar with. Yet, his grip was firm on my wrist. He pulled me back up and hit me twice more before I fell to the floor and heard the sound of things being knocked over, people screaming and a fight breaking out.

Clutching my face, I turned on my side and began to bawl.

I heard screaming, but I was too dizzy to look up. I brought my hand to my face and wiped it, seeing the blood that had been drawn. I had feared him for so long, I thought coming back would rid me of him, but no amount of distance could stop him. I cried heavily, thinking about the amount of times where I wanted to call Jon but didn’t.

It wasn’t until I woke up on the kitchen floor, my head gushing blood so badly that I couldn’t lift myself off- I thought I was going to die. That’s when I realized that I needed to escape, and Jonathan wouldn’t judge. He knew I was strong, no matter what bullshit this asshole was putting me through, and he’d help.

I tried to stop shaking, but I couldn’t, I just waited for everything to calm down. It wasn’t. There was still stuff being knocked over, smashed and the echoes of screams and fists being thrown booming through the bar.

Then, two muscular hands picked me up off the floor.