Chapter 2
Kemah
I watch him closely as he walks through the room with a glass in his hand. He moves toward the kitchen, and I know exactly what he’s after. More liquor. Just what he doesn’t need.
I debate getting up and leaving the room, but I know that would only anger him more, so I stay in my seat, flipping through the pages of my magazine.
Jake comes back, his glass full as he sits across the room and stares at me. I pretend not to notice him at first, but I know that will also piss him off.
“How’s Phil?” I ask, trying to make light conversation.
“He’s fine. Julie had the baby a week ago.”
“She did? Boy or girl?” I ask, looking up at him now. If I can keep him talking long enough, he’ll eventually drink until he passes out, and I can go to bed peacefully.
“Boy. Named him Phil junior,” he says, sounding put off by the name.
“You don’t like the name?”
“I don’t think any child should be a junior. It makes no sense to me. They don’t need the same name to carry on a last name.” He rolls his eyes.
“That makes sense.”
“What did you do today?”
“I had lunch with Valerie. She wants to meet up with you sometime soon,” I tell him. He chuckles.
“I can’t stand that little cunt.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s boring, Kemah. She talks too much about herself and nothing of importance.”
“I don’t mind her that much,” I say before looking back down at my magazine.
“Wasn’t she your friend in college?”
“Yeah, she was.”
“And you actually liked being around her?” I know what he’s trying to do, and that’s get under my skin. He’s trying to start a fight, and I won’t give him the satisfaction of doing that.
“I didn’t mind her. She wasn’t like this back then. I think it’s more John than anything.”
“You think her husband makes her this way? Typical woman,” he huffs out a breath.
“You don’t think a man can make a woman think differently about herself?” I ask, looking back up at him. He should know. He does it to me all the fucking time. He makes me feel less than, just as he always does.
“If a man can make a woman think differently about herself, then she isn’t with the right man.” Point made. I know I’m not with the right man. I’ve known for a long time, but I’ve no choice in the matter.
“Men say things, make women feel a certain way. If she isn’t appreciated, she can feel it.”
“Then you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” he hisses in my direction. I nearly roll my eyes, but I figured that would just piss him off a little more, and that’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid.
I sip on my drink as I flip the pages of my magazine, trying to keep his attention off me. The more he doesn’t look my way, the better off I am.
I watch out of the corner of my eye as Jake stands to his feet and walks toward the kitchen, and I take the chance to leave the room.
I hurry down the hall and into the bedroom, slipping my shoes off before changing and climbing into bed.
With any luck, he’ll drink himself to death one day, and I won’t have to have him hanging over my head.
I lay back and close my eyes just as he walks into the room. I keep my eyes closed, praying to God he doesn’t try and wake me up.
“Nice try, Kemah.” I ignore his words and keep my back to him when I feel the bed shift. I swallow hard when I feel his hand come to rest on my waist before rolling me to my back. Now I open my eyes and look up at him.
“Why are you doing this? I’m not even your type,” I mumble. I know he heard me; I can tell by the look in his eyes.
“You know who you belong to, Kemah!” He snaps at me.
“You know none of this makes any sense, right? You forced this on me!”
“No, they did! And I stepped up to the fucking plate. If you don’t like it, take it up with your father,” he smirks as he drags the blanket off my body.
His hand comes to rest on my stomach before slowly sliding into the front of my sweatpants.
Internally, I cringe, but I can’t let him see that.
I close my eyes and clench them shut as his hand finds my pussy.
I’m not wet for him. He knows it. I know it.
But that doesn’t stop him from slipping his finger inside me anyway. I want to gag, but I don’t.
Instead, I lie motionless. I let him touch me, I let him do what he wants to do to me, but I don’t enjoy a single second of it.
When he isn’t getting enough of what he wants, he pulls his hand free and slaps me across the face. My eyes instantly open and lock with his before he jerks my sweatpants off.
“You didn’t wear panties. It’s almost as if you want this,” he says with a laugh.
I don’t say shit, just stare at him. He spreads my legs and spits on his hand before coating his cock.
Then he does it once more, wiping it all over my pussy before lining up his cock and shoving into me.
He lifts my legs so he can get as deep as he can, which isn’t much.
I keep my eyes closed as he fucks me however he wants. It doesn’t take him long to finish, which I’m grateful for. When he pulls out, I sit up and grab my pants, ready to head into the bathroom to clean up, when he speaks.
“You should think about losing weight, Kemah. You could really be pretty if you did.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Lose some fucking weight and you could be pretty,” he slurs.
I don’t think, I react. I grab a picture frame, the closest thing to me, and throw it as hard as I can at him.
Too bad I’m a bad aim. It misses him, and he stands, coming toward me quickly.
His hand wraps around my throat, and he squeezes as I reach up and claw at his hand.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Huh?”
“Let me go.” I squeak.
“You’re getting a little too headstrong, Kemah.
Think about what I said. You think anyone really wants you the way you look?
” He laughs. “Your father pays me to fucking be with you.” My heart drops in my chest even though I knew all this.
I don’t know the logistics behind it or why he did things this way.
But I hate him. I hate my father with every part of my being. Just the way I hate Jake.
“Fuck you,” I hiss at him.
“I just did that, and you’re fucking welcome.”
“I don’t need you.” I can feel the tears pricking the back of my eyes. I’ve always been conscience of my weight. I’ve always had issues with it, but for the most part, I’ve taken it all in my stride. I don’t think I’m as ugly as he says I am, but hearing it all the time stings. It hurts.
“You don’t? Who the fuck is going to want you, Kemah? Huh? Who?”
“Anyone but you,” I seethe at him. Jake releases his hold on me, and I immediately cough and catch my breath. Jake just turns around and walks away.