Chapter Fourteen #2
“Spread your legs for me.” He kisses my thigh, the one not branded. “I’ll go slow.” He promises. I nod, spreading my legs on the bed as he grabs the hidden bottle of lube from under the bedframe.
And he is very gentle and slow, just like he always is.
And when he sinks into me, the two of us gasp into each other's mouths as we kiss. It’s slow and sweet and so aggressively Soma.
He never pounds into me, never bends me into any crazy positions or grabs my throat.
No biting, no hair pulling. Just him thrusting into me at a steady pace, my leg over his shoulder, his mouth on me—anywhere he can get it.
And he’s telling me how pretty I am. Just so fucking pretty.
The part of me that aches for acceptance, to be loved, is so enthralled by this method of sex. And he’s so beautiful while he does it—so much like the prince he is.
But then there's the part of me that’s empty, that craves to be bitten into, devoured whole. To be slammed into and claimed completely. But I know Soma and he would hate it. I know he would do it, just for me, but he’d hate it.
Once we finish—Soma in the condom he throws away under some stray papers in his bedroom trash, and me on my stomach and all over his hand—he grabs a rag and cleans me.
“How do you feel, Ravi?” He asks, just like he always does, even when we don’t go all the way.
“Satiated. How do you feel?” Soma grins.
“Very happy.” He throws the rag into a basket. “Now, come to the grocery store with me.” When I raise a brow he rolls his eyes. “Come on lazy—we’re making danishes.”
“Danishes!” I’m up and putting my clothes on in a hurry. Danishes are one of my favorite baked goods of all time, and cheese danishes are surprisingly easy to make. We learned a few weeks ago by watching a YouTube tutorial.
Twenty minutes later we’re walking into Lancaster's local grocery store. Soma threw on some jeans and one of our swim team member shirts, so he looks every bit the cute high schooler he is, which makes me smile. It’ll be nice to watch him grow.
“Okay, so, we need….” Soma is listing ingredients as we stand in the middle of the store in the baking aisle, but I can’t hear him.
At the end of the aisle is my father, Ronnie.
I haven’t seen him since January when I finally told Felix and Aaron what happens when I’m home.
I’ve been able to successfully dodge him for a while—extra caution and less frequent visits were enough.
Just when I turn the other way, hoping he won't see me, I hear his voice call out.
“Benjamin!” I blanch. Soma looks over my shoulder with a curious brow raised, then upon seeing my face, grabs my hand.
“Ravi? Who is that? Are you okay? Should we run?”
“Yes, let's—” Ronnie snatches me up by the back of my shirt, turning me to face him.
“You fucking whore. Where have you been? Have you been at that boy's house?” He’s spitting in my face as he talks, and I’m terrified Soma will get involved.
“People are looking—I’ll tell you outside.” He turns and sees a few bystanders staring at us curiously.
“Come, boy.” He’s dragging me by the front of my shirt.
“Ravi!”
“Stay here, okay?” I plead with him, looking over my shoulder. “I am begging you, Soma. Do not follow me.” I can’t see him anymore—we’ve rounded the corner.
Once I’m dragged to the middle of the lot where his Corolla sits, Dad throws me against the trunk.
“Speak. Where have you been?” I pick myself up from where I’m hunched over against the car.
“Felix’s house.” He shoves my shoulder.
“Then who’s that? Huh?”
“No one,” I rush. “A friend.” He stares at me for a moment, then before I can blink, he slaps me across the face. I taste blood but I don’t fall.
“A friend? I saw him holding your hand, Ravi. Should I go ask him myself?”
“No! Please don’t.” I wipe my mouth with my hand. “He’s more than a friend.”
“Then what?” He wants me to say it. Wants me to claim the word so he can beat it back out of me. I know it with every terrified fiber of my being. But if it’s that or him approaching Soma, then I’ll confess.
“Boyfriend. He’s my boyfriend.” I don’t know how I end up on the ground, but he has me by the front of the shirt and he’s punching—one after the other.
I hear different slurs, insults, threats, but all I can think is that Soma won’t be on the receiving end.
He starts to kick me. And then, as if my life isn’t already bad enough, the sacrifice becomes pointless.
“Ravi! Hey, get your fucking hands off of him!” Soma runs up on us. He sees me bloody on the ground, my father decorated in it.
“Yeah? What are you going to do about it, pansy?” Ronnie growls, kicking me square in the chest. A gust of air leaves me as I curl into a ball.
Soma is on him in a second, getting a good punch in, landing it on his nose.
“You bitch!” Ronnie screams, grabbing Soma up by the collar and punching him once, then twice. I’m crying, screaming—or maybe not. I’m slowly finding a way off the ground. Soma is putting up a good fight, exchanging blows back and forth.
“Stop! Please Dad! I’ll do anything. I’ll come home! Please just leave him alone.” He doesn’t hear my cries—he doesn’t even remember I’m here.
A random shopper walking to her car gasps and runs back toward the store, abandoning her full shopping cart. This gets Dad's attention. He shoves Soma away and turns back to me.
“You better be ready the next time I find you, Benjamin. And from now on, I’ll be looking.” With that promise, he gets in his car and peels out.
My blood is all over the asphalt, all over my clothes.
Soma is sitting on the ground where Dad had shoved him off, staring at the asphalt, eyes wide.
He doesn’t look too bad, all things considered.
His nose is bleeding and I think there's a bruise forming on his jaw. But it seems like he blocked pretty well. He didn’t just roll over and take it. I sit in front of him.
“I’m so sorry.” I cry, staring at him, hoping he understands. I should have told him sooner.
“Who… who was that?” He looks so far removed from the conversation. Like he’s protecting himself—like he’s scared. I try to hold his hand, but he jerks it away.
“My dad. He’s… remember when I was mugged in January?" His eyes widen. “I wasn’t mugged. My dad… My dad caught me when I was home and, well, you saw it for yourself. That’s why I basically live with Felix.” Soma won’t look at me—he’s not even wiping his own blood as it drips onto his hands.
“I… why didn’t you tell me? Where is your mom during all of this?” He’s angry now. With me or my circumstances I don't know.
“Dead.”
“Oh my God.” He covers his face with his hands. “Benjamin, I… I think I need to go home.”
“Okay, let’s—”
“No, I need to go home.” He finally looks at me. Anger and fear swirl in his eyes. He even looks a bit betrayed.
“What?” I whisper.
“I’ll call you. I just… need to process this. Go to Felix so he can help clean you up and be there for you so you’re not alone.” Soma stands, wiping his blood on his jeans. “I’ll take you to—”
“No. No, it’s okay. I want to walk—it’s super close anyway.” He nods, staring at his shoes. “Soma, I… please don’t hate me.” His eyes find mine again and he shakes his head softly.
“None of this is your fault. Although I am hurt you didn’t tell me two major life problems you have. I just need time. I need to process, and I can’t help you through this at the same time. I’ll call you, Benjamin.” He turns on his heel and walks across the parking lot.
It suddenly hits me that he’s calling me Benjamin.
I grab a sharp rock off of the ground and start my walk to the Archer house.
I can’t have anything—not a single moment. I don’t want this life; I don’t want this body. I’m so fucking tired. Why do I have to get mom away from him anyway? She’s dead. She left me. By choice. I wish I had parents who loved me.
I use the sharp end of the rock, slicing it up my wrist. The feel of my blood dripping off my fingertips quiets the screaming in my head, makes everything around me a bit easier to bear.
I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Mom.
I’m not crying anymore by the time I reach the house.
I see myself in the reflection of the window.
Bloody nose, torn lip, scratches all over my skin from the concrete, a dark bruise on my left cheek under my eye.
I can feel bruises forming everywhere as I move.
And the blood dripping from my fingertips.
The cut going up my wrist is completely exposed in my short sleeve shirt.
Oh, well. What am I hiding for? Things can’t get any worse than they already are.
I shove a hand through my bloody hair and head inside. I can hear Aaron and Felix laughing in Felix’s bedroom as I casually open the door, standing in the threshold. We’ve been here before. My life is a cycle I can’t break free from.
“Bear…” Felix is staring at me, slowly standing from his spot on the bed. Aaron is already up, rounding the end of the bed to get to this side of the room.
“He beat Drew.” I say, using his real name. I guess the situation calls for it.
“What?” Felix blanches, and they both stop moving.
“Dad. Ronnie. He beat me to the ground at the grocery store and when Drew tried to stop him, he busted his nose and bruised his face.” I look up from the floor and look between the two of them, taking a deep breath. “And now, he doesn’t want to see me. He asked for time.”
“Button, what's in your hand?” Aaron asks, eyes wide as he approaches me like I’m a wounded animal. I raise my open palm and stare at the bloody, jagged rock. My dripping hand, my sliced wrist. They see it all.