Back to You (Sequel to Take Me Away From Here)

Chapter 29

"No!" I screech, before he grabs onto my throat, and lifts me off the ground like I'm the size of a child. He throws me down onto the ground, winding me even further. I squirm, feeling absolutely helpless. He grabs me again, and slams me back against the wall. 

"Look at me..." He growls, while I cry so hard I can't open my eyes. He smacks me, before shaking me. "Look at me!" He screams so loud, the wall behind me trembles. I force my eyes open, looking at the rage in his eyes. "Go into our room, and unpack that fucking bag." He demands, while I howl. "Do you understand me?" He shouts in my face while I nod quickly. He tosses me toward the door, watching me scramble toward our room. He stands in the room on his own, all expression leaving him, as he leans his back against the wall. 

"You don't remember this, do you?" He asks, sounding much calmer, but out of breath. I remain silent, unsure who he's talking to. He glances up at me, making my heart sink. I shake my head, watching him nod. "You repressed it... Your mind processed this the same way you processed the event with Horace." He says, walking over to Audrey's changing table. He leans against it, keeping his back to me. "I raped you, I beat you, and I terrorized you, and you don't remember a damn part of it." He remarks, before he undoes his belt once more. He pulls it out of his belt loops, and wraps it around his fist. He starts toward the door, before stopping himself in the doorway. "This is important for you to watch..." He releases, before walking out of the room. I follow behind him, as he walks into the master. I sit on the bed, howling with my head in my hands. He looks at my still-packed bag, and cracks his knuckles. 

"Tim, I need you to go." I say, watching him stand stone-faced. He cocks his head toward me, sighing while my legs shake visibly. He looks down at them, before the moment seems to freeze. 

"That's when I knew I had the power... when I saw your legs trembling... I knew that you couldn't make me leave, and that you were too terrified of me to even attempt making a run for it." He releases, glancing my way, before looking back at the version of me on the bed. The moment restarts, as he walks toward me. I look up at him, before looking at the belt in his hand. He places his hand on my cheek, running his finger under my eye while wiping away a tear. He kneels down in front of me, before placing his hands on the outside of my thighs. He slowly glides them up, making me squirm a bit. "Shh...." He lets out under his breath. His hands slide over my thighs, before traveling to the inside, making me shrivel up a bit. I bite my lip, as tears fall even harder, burning my eyes. He touches me, before grabbing onto me in a way that makes me yelp in discomfort. "You don't tell me what to do." He say firmly, like he's scolding me. He releases me for a moment, before grabbing even harder. "You're not exactly the one in control here, are you?" He taunts, while my whole body begins to shake. He lets go, narrowing his eyes at me for a moment. 

"Please, stop..." I beg, as he sways slightly, the alcohol taking a hard toll on him. He shakes his head, before standing up. I watch the door closely, wondering when I should try and make a break for it. He walks over to his nightstand, grabbing something out of the drawer, and slamming it shut so hard it make me jump. He kneels back down in front of me, pulling out a pocket knife. He opens it, before running his finger across the blade. 

"My step-father gave this to me when I was ten. He used to grab it whenever I challenged his authority, and he'd run it across my skin..." He says, slurring his words. He presses the blade against my knee, before gliding it up the inside of my thigh. I sit painfully still, not wanting him to accidentally cut me. "... just like that..." He says, looking up at me in a daze. "He told me that testing him was like playing with knives... Eventually you're going to get cut." He lets out, laughing a bit at himself. "And then he'd place the blade against my jaw, like this..." He releases, as he presses it into my skin. I tilt my head away from it, feeling the dull blade resting on my jaw. "And he'd push just hard enough to draw blood." He says, before jerking it downward in a sudden movement. I whimper, before bringing my fingers toward where the knife was resting. I pull my fingers away to see blood on my fingertips. "I don't want to be the bad guy... but then you start packing bags, and grabbing kids, and baby, I just don't have a choice." He stands up once more, and walks over to the dresser. He dumps out a baggy from his pocket, before snorting a line of coke. I shut my eyes, praying it'll stop. I didn't know he was high that night... I mean, it wouldn't be outlandish, but it just didn't cross my mind.