Fateful Vengeance

Chapter 1

One

Clara

Ryan crushes me against him, and I let out a squeal. “You’re perfect, you know,” he whispers in my ear. Beer breath follows. I close my eyes for a moment, thinking about better days.

“Nah, no one is.” I wriggle out of his grasp and get out of the pool.

He’s quickly behind me with a towel, wrapping it around my shoulders. “I said you are, and what I say goes.” Kissing me fiercely, he stalks off to get a beer. His friends have had too much to drink, and I grip the towel tighter.

It’s been a great day, first out for lunch and shopping, now the evening with his friends at their pool.

I have to get food into Ryan before he hits a certain point, or the night will be ruined.

Life is crazy. When you’re in any bad situation, the good days are really fucking good, but the lows are some of the worst.

I excuse myself and head into the house to change into capris and a shirt. Grazing the snack table when I come out, he sways into me.

“Don’t eat too much. You know I like you the size you are.”

I grit my teeth. I’ve been the same size for five years, and I doubt a couple of handfuls of grapes will change it.

Instead of pointing out any logic, because that’ll solve nothing and only cause a scene, I make him a plate, but he waves his hand and turns it away before downing his beer.

“Nah, babe, loosen up. Just enjoy the party. You don’t have to be so tense.” The slur in his words takes me back to many of the nights we’ve had. The memories of fear and pain blend in a sick and twisted combination.

“Please try this. I think it could be good for us to make at home, or if you like it, I can make your lunches with it.” I peer at him, doing my best to come off as sweet instead of controlling.

It’s a tough line to toe, never knowing whether he will fall for my antics, even though I’m trying to save us from himself.

Ryan stuffs half the ham croissant in his mouth and chews for a few minutes before shoving the rest in. “Good,” he says, crumbs flying everywhere. At least he shouldn’t get too sloppy this way, and his violence meter should drop down a peg or two.

“Are you guys staying tonight?” Brody, his friend, asks and swings his arms around our shoulders.

Ryan shoves him off me and stands in front. “We’re leaving. Don’t touch her.”

I mouth sorry to Brody as if it’s my job to please his friends, then grab my bag from the couch.

“I can drive, Clara. You don’t have to treat me like a child.”

A child would have more couth, but I clench the keys tighter. “Ry, you never let me drive. What if you relax for once and be a passenger?’

“You’re right. It's about time you did things for me.”

I smile and grasp his sweaty hand before bringing him out to the car.

He fiddles with the radio the entire drive home.

Living in his father's basement apartment was never part of my dreams. However, the four years we’ve lived together after the magical first have me rooted in a place I can never be free from.

“I’m gonna prove to you tonight how much you mean to me, Clara,” he slurs.

Parking the car, I grab our bags and wait for him to catch up before walking in.

I’m glad I didn’t stock any alcohol in the apartment and pray the delivery service is too busy tonight. Enduring a drunk night is better than the alternative, but never as good as one of the sober nights.

“Do you want me to make you some dinner?”

“No, I want you to prove how much you love me.”

I nod and enter the bedroom to hide the car keys before stripping. Life used to make sense, and now nothing does.

Ryan stumbles into the room and fumbles with his belt. On one hand, I’d love nothing more than for him to pass out, but he’ll be angry at me in the morning, as if it’s my fault he couldn’t stay awake.

I kneel in front of him and undo his belt, lowering his jeans as he steps out of them. “I knew you loved me.”

“Of course I love you, Ryan.”

Stroking him to a semi takes a lot more work than usual. I bob my head on what is hard. He shoves me down his cock, using my mouth like a toy, and for a few minutes, I think I might choke to death.

“Fuck.”

Ryan’s gone soft before he rips out of my mouth. I'd point out the obvious, but I doubt he wants to know. “It’s okay, baby. Let’s cuddle?”

“Fuck you, bitch. It's your fault.” He stumbles around before falling to the floor and then standing with his pants in his hand. “I’m going out. Give me the keys.”

“I don’t know where they are, but I can help you look.”

The sheer anger on his face makes me tense, but I begin sifting through drawers and under papers. “I’ll be picked up. I have to find someone who can make me hard.”

Those words will always cut at my heart, like I’m disposable.

He’s on his phone as he walks out of the apartment. I follow behind, knowing this isn’t on me, but it doesn’t make me feel any better.

“You need to lose some weight. I’m not as attracted to you. If you were hotter, I would’ve been hard and able to get off. Clara, you think you love me, but you just don’t fucking get it.”

“Ryan, that’s bullshit. Maybe if you didn’t drink so much, we could’ve had a good night.” I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth. I know better.

He halts as we reach the door, the headlights shining through the side window.

I slam into Ryan’s back while he spins around. Pushing me against the wall, he jerks my pants down as he jams his fingers into me. It hurts, but I swallow as I stare at him over my shoulder. His gaze is clearer and filled with fury.

Ripping away, Ryan grabs the nape of my neck, slamming me against the wall. This time my face doesn’t break through the plaster. I slip to the floor while holding my head, and he slams the door.

I go over all of the events from tonight, thinking about where I could have improved. I shouldn’t have provoked him with my words—I know better than anyone about that.

My head throbs as I stand glancing out the window. Ryan gets into a car I don’t recognize and they pull out in a rush, squealing the tires on the road before taking off.

I head to the kitchen and tidy up from the day before, grabbing a towel and ice pack before, curling up on the couch.

His dad is usually away when he pulls these stunts, which makes the most sense, because I would like to believe Burke would at least check in to see whether I were alright, or what the damage to his basement apartment is.

I know Ryan can be so sweet and amazing, but with a flick of a switch, he is sadistic and likes to hurt me.

I’ve had to endure many drunken nights with him, and as much as I would love to blame the alcohol, that’s not the reason. Ryan can change at the drop of a dime, sober or not.

The last time we were at his friend's, he made sure to take me there, in his friend's bed, to prove to everyone I was his. I begged and pleaded, but it always fell on deaf ears. The alcohol only provides him with extra courage.

I want to leave, but I love him so fucking much, it’s difficult. I don’t know if I’ll ever find someone better than him.

He’s been a constant in my life for years, and knowing someone wants you so badly that they control everything you do is how I think love should be. I give over everything to Ryan and trust he won’t hurt me, even though he does.

I think in time I can change, and he will get better. Once I get that down, I will be able to keep him happy, and he’ll stop hurting me.