Force You Down

Chapter Fourteen

But later that night wasn't as successful. We took two steps back.

Mike had started making out with me, and having to follow my plan, I went with it. When things started to get too heated I backed out.

"I'm sorry, I'm still not ready." I said bashfully. It was true. Instead of nodding his head in understanding, he threw himself off of me and swung his fist into the wall. I jump, watching him nervously.

"When are you going to be ready? I let you fucking go outside today? And you can't even let me take off your goddamn panties?" He yells, and I cringe at the use of the word "panties".

Gross.

"I'm sorry, I want to give you my virginity to you but I'm not ready yet." I say in small voice, throwing in the virginity card.

I don't want to act like a little girl. I want to scream back at him and tell him everything I had been doing for these past three weeks has all been a scheme so I can get the fuck out of this hellhole.

"I've waited weeks, Jacklyn, weeks! Stop acting like a fucking prude!" He yells, his face turning red. I curl up into a ball, forcing tears to spill down my cheeks.

My self control was running low right now.

He stares at me for a minute, panting angrily. He runs a hand through his hair.

"I can't fucking do this. I'm going out." He says, grabbing his phone off the nightstand and stomping out of the room. I instantly wipe away my fake tears and glower at the door. If only that prick really knew what was happening.

Having nothing else to do, I angrily pull the covers over me and try to fall asleep.

The door is slammed open and I can hear giggling. A girl.

I squint at the alarm clock. 2:33 a.m.

I sit up in bed, and Mike flicks the light on. Hanging on his arm is a heavily intoxicated girl. Not to be judgmental, but with the way she's dressed I can't help but be reminded of a prostitute. But other than that she's gorgeous.

"What's going on?" I ask groggily, dread filling my stomach. Mike walks towards me, and I can tell he's had a couple drinks.

"We're gonna fuck, get out." He says. His words are slurred. I stare at him in shock.

"Get the fuck out, you fucking prudish bitch!" He suddenly screams at me. I quickly get out of bed and walk past him, shutting the door behind me. The girl laughs shrilly behind the door.

My chest heaves in disbelief. I stand there for a moment, until I can hear sounds that reminds me of mixing pasta in a pot. Swallowing my bile, I stumble down the stairs, thinking of where I could sleep. I didn't want to risk opening an occupied room. There are no couches in this house.

I walk into the kitchen, and pour myself a glass of water, sitting at the counter, spinning a little in the chair.

I stare at the clock above the oven as I sip my water, thankful I can't hear them having sex. An hour passes and I hear a very loud scream of pleasure upstairs. I shiver in disgust. Twenty minutes pass and I can hear the girl stumbling down the stairs, cursing and muttering under her breath angrily as she walks out of the front door. I wish I could do the same. I don't want to risk what happened in my nightmare. It sounds silly, but anything can happen.

By this time it's 6:55 a.m. and I'm still staring at the clock. My lids are heavy. I cross my arms on the countertop and I rest my cheek against them. I slowly fall into a light sleep.

I could hear whispering hours later. One of which sounded like, "Just leave her alone, did you see what he did to Jason?"

About an hour passes and I can hear someone lightly tap my shoulder.

"Baby." Goddammit, it's Mike. I jerkily sit up, glaring at him through heavy eyelids.

"Don't fucking call me that." I snap, my voice husky. My neck aches. I shake the circulation back into my arms.

Mike looks extremely hungover. He touches my shoulder. "Baby, I'm so sorry about last night, come back to bed with me." I shove his hand off me.

I know I'm pushing it, but I don't fucking care. All of this hard work and internal suffering from constantly sucking up to him and kissing his facing and enduring his touch and this is how I'm repaid?

"I want my own room. I don't want to sleep on the counter again, if that's okay with you baby." I say sarcastically, and anger seeps into his face.

"You don't get to be disrespectful. I call the shots around here. Now get your ass upstairs with me or you're going back into the basement." He snarls. I smack my hand on the counter and jump off of the stool, stalking past him. I stomp up the stairs, stepping into his bathroom once I reach his room.

I lock the door and use the bathroom, scrubbing my face with water vigorously after. I angrily dry my face off and glare at myself in the mirror before opening the door and slipping into bed, lying as far away from Mike as I could. He tries to slip his arm around my waist but I slap it away.

"Stop acting like a fucking prude." I mock his words from last night. He sighs, but doesn't try to touch me again.

I don't sleep.

The alarm clock reads 12:24 p.m. when Mike wakes up again. I sit up in bed, staring at his stirring figure.

"Am I allowed to leave the room now?" I ask bitterly. He groggily shakes his head.

"I want to talk about last night." He groans out, holding his head.

"What's there to talk about? I'm a prudish bitch. Did you get to pull down those prostitute's panties last night?" I snap, using his own words against him. He sits up too, pursing his lips.

"I said I was sorry." He says. I roll my eyes.

"No, no. You call the shots here, I'm sorry. I'm just so used to being a fucking prudish bitch that I forget to keep myself in check. Wouldn't want to almost starve to death in the basement again." I almost yell sarcastically.

"What do I need to do to make you understand how sorry I am?" He asks, starting to get annoyed.

"No. You don't get to be annoyed. I was finally opening myself up to you, and just because I didn't spread my legs open fast enough you decide to start treating me like shit again." I yell shrilly. He sighs, and he actually looks guilty.

"Let me make it up to you."

And seeing this as though it could mean an escape, I accept.