A/N. This story has yet to be edited.
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Copyright © 2012, S. J. Evans
All Rights Reserved.
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Chapter One
Birthday Gone Bad
Part one
SKYE MONTGOMERY AND BRYAN ECHOLS WALKED HAND-IN-HAND in the hot, summer night, while the setting sun beamed down upon them. Bryan's eyes were alight with excitement, his lips spread into a wide smile, as he turned his head down to regard his girlfriend with unwavering attention. "Are you excited for the rest of the night, babe?" he asked her, squeezing her hand and stopping in place. "After all, a birthday only comes once a year."
Skye looked up into his bold blue eyes in return, those eyes that could change her mind on anything so easily, and those same eyes that had often held so much trickery inside. "Of course I'm excited," she told him with confidence. "But it's really nothing special, Bryan. Just another night."
"Just another night?" he scoffed in disbelief. "Since when is your birthday just another night?"
"It's just not a big deal to me. Never really has been. And there's really no reason you should be going through all this trouble just to take me out," she said, around a timid smile. "First the restaurant and now Buxton's . . . it's not like I need all of the special treatment."
He shook his head at her, dismissing all that she'd said, and kissed her knuckles, his breath warm against her skin. "Seventeen years is entirely worth all of the celebration. You're my beautiful girlfriend, Skye, and you deserve to be treated."
A nervous chuckle trembled from her chapped lips. "I don't deserve it," she mumbled, biting on her lip--a nervous habit she'd picked up a few years back--and averting her gaze. She couldn't look him in the eyes any longer, not when she knew how easily she'd succumb to his every word if she did. "Thank you for tonight though, Bryan, even if it wasn't nessecary. It's been nice to get out of the house for a little while and just spend some time with you."
"You are too incredibly modest, Skye." He draped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into him, and the two continued walking again. "I love it," he whispered in her ear as they neared Buxton's under-twenty-one-club, approaching the bouncer standing at the door. "Two passes--one for me, and one for the birthday girl," he told the bouncer, and grinned down at Skye.
She stared straight ahead, watching as the bouncer gave Bryan two passes. "Have a good night," he said, and she couldn't help but notice how rough his voice sounded. It sent a chill running down like cold fingers along her spine.
"Thank you," she whispered around the sudden lump in her throat, ducking her head when she saw the hungry look in the bouncer's eyes. Much to her relief, Bryan pulled her through the entrance before he could notice anything off about the situation.
They walked through the immediate room and took in the oppressing whiff of sweat mixed in with a humid fog. Music blared across the large packed out club, making it hard for hearing. "Nice place, isn't it?" she called out to Bryan over the music, smiling up at him.
"Yeah, a little crowded isn't it?" he called back. "At least we can get some good dancing time in," he added skeptically.
"Sure," she said as she examined the crowded club. Kids overwhelmed the dance floor, rocking along with the music. The bar was accompanied full of drinkers, but there wasn't alcohol except for what a few stragglers brought in. Skye walked away from the crowd of overgrowing people that gathered at the front, Bryan following behind her while his gaze flashed between the dance floor and her.
"Why are we over here?" he asked her around a laugh.
"I thought that it would be better if we got away from the crowd," she said slightly distracted. Across from the club she could see two boys that stood out to her, one of which had tousled black hair and a dark demeanor, the other had shaggy blonde hair that slightly hung in his eyes and pulled off the pretty-boy look. The tall darker one wore a long black trench coat and black jeans along with dark shades that covered his eyes, and the pretty-boy sported dark jeans, a white T-shirt that outlined his perfectly toned body, and a beanie hat. Skye was lost in the boys' far off presence, somehow finding herself wishing that she was closer to them, suddenly feeling overly drawn to them.
"Hey, babe, are we going to dance?" Bryan's cool voice rang in her ears. He traced his fingers over her arms, stepping in front of her and blocking her out of her daze.
Suddenly all that she saw in front of her was Bryan's grinning face. She glanced away from him nervously, hoping that he hadn't noticed she was staring at the others across the club. "Wait, what?" She asked hazily, her attention slowly focusing back on Bryan.
He gave her a look of surprise. He didn't want to believe that she hadn't heard him. "Are we going to dance, you and me, now?" He said, becoming irritated in the slightest.
"Dance, you and me, right now?" She repeated, hoping that he would change his mind.
"Yes, that's exactly what I am saying." His eyes which had been a bright radiant blue darkened into something that held a sort of anger, one that could unleash at any moment's time.
"How about we take a few minutes to just relax, you know, talk?" She countered, gulping down the realization that he was slightly upset. She knew that he could harm her; she knew that he could lash out at her if he got angry enough.
"Why would you want to do that?" He purred in her ears, stepping right up next to her as he dropped his lips to her ear. "Babe, it's your day and you love to dance, come on." He whispered.
Skye nervously held onto him, feeling the muscles in his back tense up with anger. She gasped as his hand traveled down to her hips and squeezed them. "Okay," she breathed, fear forcing her into the decision.
He grinned in satisfaction and tossed a strand of her hair, whispering in her ear, "Great."
They walked out onto the dance floor, maneuvering around a bunch of dance-crazed kids. Skye crashed into two girls and they groaned in disgust, hissing under their breath. "I-I'm sorry." She stuttered, catching her breath in the fog of humidity and body odor. The girls rolled their eyes and went back to dancing around a couple boys.
Bryan pulled on Skye's arm and went to the middle of the dance floor, pushing away a few stray dancers. He wrapped his arms around Skye's waist and pulled her into him, as Skye felt his hands venture downward. She gasped as he pulled her so close that she was relying on him for balance, and the music shook her body as she thought about how dark Bryan's eyes had looked moments before-he wasn't far from becoming aggressive. He spun them in circles, their heads close as he bent down to kiss her.
She pushed herself away from him and touched his lips. "Not now, Bryan. Let's just dance." She mumbled, suddenly tired of his pushy behavior.
He narrowed his eyebrows at her. "That's what we're doing, but I would like for us to do...more." He whispered, trailing his fingers around her chin. They were rocking back and forth on the dance floor, absorbed in each other's eyes.
"No more, Bryan, I'm tired." She sighed, out of breath from trying to push his hands off of her.
"I say when we're done, and we're not done," he growled, aggressively shoving his lips against hers, his hands tangled through her hair. Skye pressed her dainty hand against his firm chest and pushed as best she could, but the strength that he withheld was too much for her to get her own way.
She dug her nails into his arm and pushed away. "No, Bryan, not now." She mumbled around his lips.
He groaned and grabbed her arms, pulling his head back for a moment. "Yes, Skye, this is my gift for you, enjoy it." He pulled her away from the dance floor, refusals escaping from her mouth. He pushed her up against a wall over past the bar and pressed his lips violently against hers. Skye helplessly pushed him away, trying to get away from being pinned between him and the wall. She did the only thing she knew that she could do-she bit him.
Bryan drew back and cried out, his hand snapping up to his lips. "What was that for, Skye?" He yelled, his dark voice a notch above the music that was near them. A few people who sat at the bar glanced over at them.
"I don't want to kiss anymore, Bryan." She cried, furry and fear bubbled up inside of her. She stared at his hard face and then down his neck, where the veins pulsed with anger. His free fist clenched up and she gasped, afraid that he would hit her.
He was infuriated. He took his hand off of his lips and stretched it out, ready to strike out at any moment. He glared at Skye. "You do," he snarled before he raised his hand and slapped it violently across Skye's cheek. The force shoved her body roughly against the wall and she brought her hand to her cheek.
She whimpered as she felt the heat rush up to her face and the intense sting of the impact. The dark area that they were tucked in swirled and spots dotted her vision. "Bryan." She groaned.
Bryan glanced around the club, checking to make sure no one had seen it, when he spotted two teenage girls staring at him in disgust. "It's just a little game we play, she likes it, trust me." He grinned at them, trying to make the lie more reassuring. The girls rolled their eyes and walked off, whispering to each other.
Trust me, Bryan's favorite words that are always the result of pain. Skye thought hazily, reality slowly settling in. "Bryan, please move." She begged quietly, her voice hardly audible above the music.
He slowly back away from her, giving her room to breathe. "Babe, I didn't' mean anything by that, you know that I love you." He said around a charming smile, trying to convince her. He gently caressed her cheek and rolled his thumb over her lips. "I'm sorry, beautiful."
She fought herself about giving up on him. He has hurt her so many times, but it hadn't ever been in public before. Ever since the beginning of their relationship he has hurt her at the times he's angry. He always apologizes and always tries to brush it off with an excuse, but the more he does it the more Skye feels reluctant to believe him. Skye cares about him though, she wants to be able to help him, and to save him from himself; although, with the way things have continued to get worse it's very hard for her to find a way out of it all. She has been living by fear that things wouldn't go well if she broke it off, she believes that he could hurt her worse than all of the past attacks put together, or maybe even bad enough to kill her. She hates living by fear, but when her step-father is also abusive the fear of rage is very overwhelming. "Of course you love me, hence the slap-in-the-face gift." She murmured.
"Oh no, babe, it's not like that. I really do love you, will you forgive me?" His voice was cool, vacant of anger, even though Skye figured he could become angry again in an instant.
"Of course it's not. I forgive you, Bryan." She lied. You lost my forgiveness a long time ago, Bryan. She wanted to say instead. She sighed in defeat and thought about all of the times she had fallen under his strength, this one being just another dark toll on her. She wanted it to stop, all of it. No matter what, though, she would look at him and try her best to actually forgive him, to fall under the spell he had put on her since the very beginning. Bryan's way of handling things was dark and twisted, it taunted her very existence and brought her pain-it would be hard for her to ever forget it.
Bryan smiled in satisfaction; he had gotten her to at least pretend to forgive him and that made him satisfied. "Want to dance with me some more?" He asked her.
She nodded but twisted away from him. "Sure, just let me use the restroom first." She told him, her gentle voice slightly above the echoing music.
"Of course, just don't think about me too much," he said slyly.
Skye faked a smile and squeezed passed him, his eyes trailing after her. She placed her cold hand against her cheek, her entire body was growing cold-despite the overwhelming heat and humidity in the building-and the side of her face seared with fiery pain. Her arms were sore from his vicious shoves and grabs, and her eyes stung with welt up tears. She was fighting tears, fighting the oppressing anger of realization that it had happened again.