Chapter 14
Zeke
Derek and I leave not long after Talon and his sister. The high from the performance, seeing Talon, and that soul-crushing bit of hope that had managed to weave itself into my being, was obliterated as soon as Derek showed up.
Walking to our cars, he’s got a hold of me by my upper arm, practically dragging me, and I already know it’s going to be bad tonight, brutal even.
He’s usually more composed in public, but Talon had to push.
Granted, he thought he was sticking up for me, but little did he know, I’ll pay dearly for his act of chivalry.
Better me than him, though.
Derek is vibrating with anger beside me.
Instead of guiding me to the back lot of the theater where I’m parked, he takes me to the back doors of the building itself and rips one of them open.
“What are we doing here?” I ask, trying to keep my voice from trembling.
“You’ll see,” he snarls, pushing me inside.
There are still a few lights on in the hallways, but ahead, the backstage area lies in total darkness.
“Where’s your costume?” he asks, confusing the hell out of me.
“P-probably gone. They’re washed after every performance.” It’s a lie, but he won’t know that.
“That’s a shame. I wanted to see you in it.”
Then you should have come to the show, I think to myself. But I know better than to utter that sentence out loud.
“Take me to the stage,” he whispers in my ear. I begin walking slowly into the darkness ahead when he says, “Did you forget I can see your location, Buttercup?”
“No,” I reply.
Derek peers around the curtain into the auditorium. The silence tells me no one is out there. The cleaning crew has finished those areas already. We won’t be interrupted.
Slowly turning back toward me, Derek unbuttons his pants.
“You’d better hope you can say your precious lines tomorrow because I plan to fuck your throat until it bleeds.”
Not here. Please don’t ruin this place for me, I beg in my mind. Pleading out loud would only make him enjoy this more.
“Get on your knees,” he demands.
“No,” I answer, defying him.
“What do you mean, no? I gave you an order, and if you don’t want to sleep in your car tonight, you’ll get on your fucking knees. Now.”
I stand frozen.
I don’t want to do this anymore.
Seeing him here, in my space, with his hand in his pants, getting hard over making me suffer, is the final straw.
“I’ll take my chances in my car,” I reply. His shadow moves toward me, and in an uncharacteristically quick motion, one hand clamps around my throat while the other cups me through my jeans. His touch makes me want to vomit despite the layers between us.
I don’t fight back, though.
“You will give me what I want,” he says. With one hand still squeezing my throat, he moves his other hand to slide into my jeans. “Because I know you want it, too.”
How fucking delusional is he? I silently wonder.
I bat his hand away from my crotch.
“I said no.” It comes out as a wheeze because he’s gripping my throat so tightly.
“How long have you been sleeping with him?” Derek asks, immediately returning his hand and squeezing my dick painfully.
“I’m not,” I reply, earning a punch to the stomach for my honesty. At least he let go of my throat, I think, dragging in a lungful of air.
Derek never hits me in the face. People can see that evidence. He’ll hit me in places that would require me to take my clothes off, ensuring I never do…so it’s crazy to me that he thinks I’m sleeping with Talon. I’d be mortified if Talon ever saw the bruises.
“Don’t take me for a fool, Zeke, or it might be the last thing you do,” he threatens. “I fucking saved you when you had nothing and no one, and this is how you repay me? By going behind my back? I trusted you,” he spits, circling me on the stage.
We’re between the curtains now, on the portion of the stage where I bowed to applause after giving a performance I was so proud of only a short while ago. The stage is already reset for tomorrow’s performance, and something tells me I won’t get the chance to see it this way again.
It’s a new level of cruel to make me suffer here.
“I haven’t betrayed that trust, Derek,” I say, trying to remain calm.
Despite telling the truth again, his next hit lands on my kidney, making my knees buckle, sending me to the floor.
“I’ve allowed you to continue your little hobby, even though it’s time you could be working, but now you’re inviting him to your performances, inviting him to your little after-party. Was it him you were hoping would fuck you tonight?”
“I didn’t invite him to the show, Derek. He brought his sister all on his own. And I certainly didn’t invite him out afterward. They had gone there to eat. He came to congratulate all of us on a job well done. He wasn’t there for me.”
“Oh, Buttercup, how wrong you are.”
“Stop calling me that,” I say through clenched teeth from my knees.
My tone makes Derek go still, and I know I’ve passed the point of no return. I don’t even have time to brace before his fist crashes into my temple and his boot strikes my stomach.
“I will call you whatever the fuck I want to call you!” he shouts. “You have been mine since the day I found your pathetic ass living in a parking lot!”
Oh, to have the freedom of that parking lot back.
“Now, I want the truth this time,” Derek says, feigning a calmness he doesn’t possess. “How long have you been sleeping with him?”
“Sleeping with who?” I wheeze. I’m poking the bear even though I know exactly who he’s talking about.
This time, he kicks me in the ribs so hard that I end up flat on my back.
“Do you really think now is the best time to be a smartass?” he seethes, standing over me.
Maybe if I can make him angry enough, he’ll kill me and end this tonight. I’m not even sure what the point is anymore anyway. He’s right; Broadway is a pipe dream, always has been, and I’ll never make enough to escape this hellhole. To escape him.
“Is there a better time I should consider?” I ask, spitting blood on the floor as he kicks me again.
“Goddammit, Zeke. You’re bringing this on yourself.”
“You’re right,” I say, unable to speak above a pained whisper or draw a deep breath. “This is all my fault.”
“At least we finally agree on something,” he says, pulling down his zipper and exposing himself.
I’m gasping for breath thanks to the kick to my stomach; meanwhile, he’s hard as stone.
“You want to convince me you’re not running around? Here’s your chance.”
And then, as consciousness threatens to evade me due to the pain, Derek’s words about who Talon showed up for come back to me…how wrong you are, Buttercup.
Talon was there for me. Of course, he was.
And that’s enough to make me utter the next sentence. Even if Derek kills me afterward, I’ll have said the words, and Derek will know he’s lost his power over me.
“I’m leaving you,” I rasp. “I’d rather die than spend one more minute pretending I give a shit about you.” It takes all my energy to utter the sentence, and it’s met with a grin so evil I don’t doubt the words that fall from his mouth next.
“You will never leave me until I decide we’re through.
” He tucks himself away, grabs the back of my shirt, and hauls me to my feet.
Pain sears through my body, and I can only tolerate the shallowest of breaths.
“Let’s go home,” Derek says. “I don’t want you to bleed on this floor, and my dick doesn’t want to wait much longer. ”
Derek practically throws me into his truck, and I steel myself for what’s coming the entire drive home. It’s hard not to think about Talon and his offer, but what I told him is the honest truth.
I wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye if he knew how bad my situation is. Derek is nothing to me. If he thinks I’m a loser, I really don’t give a shit.
But Talon?
His look of disappointment when I wouldn’t agree to go with him tonight was almost enough to kill me. How much worse would it be when he looked at me with disgust at finding out how I’ve been surviving? Or with resentment when he feels like I’m using him?
Derek is as shitty a person as I feel I am most days, so at least we’re evenly matched.
When we finally make it home, nausea threatens to have me on my knees in the bathroom, but I know that would only piss Derek off more.
I’m slow getting out of the truck, one hand gripping my side as I stumble toward the apartment, and by the time I make it inside, he’s waiting for me in the kitchen, his dick back in his hand.
“I’m going to remind you who you belong to, Buttercup, and it won’t be gentle. But feel free to bleed on this floor. Do keep it down, though. I’d hate to disturb the neighbors.”
The beating he gave me on stage took the fight out of me, and I sink to the floor. I don’t have the energy to run, and my car is still in the lot behind the theater.
He asks me something, but my ears are ringing, and I can’t make out the words enough to give him an answer. My silence results in another kick high on the left side of my torso.
Thankfully, I lose consciousness sometime before he fucks me, though I’m sure that won’t stop him from taking what he wants.
I wake up the next day, still on the kitchen floor, and everything hurts.
Everything.
Looking down, I quickly realize I’m naked, and there is indeed blood smeared across the floor.
I’m afraid to move, knowing it’ll be agony, but I have to get out of here.
I search for my phone, despair consuming me when I come up empty.
My car…my car is still at the theater. Dammit.
Gray skies outside are allowing filtered light in through the kitchen window, so it must be daytime, but beyond that, I’m clueless as to what time it is.