Chapter 19
NINETEEN
One second, I’m bracing myself for Charles’ fist to hit me, the next he is being pulled backwards.
Ben’s arm wraps around Charles’ neck, yanking him back.
His fist connects with Charles’s rib, over and over until Michael, Charles’ friend, springs to action.
He grabs Ben, making him wince, but he doesn’t let go of his hold on Charles.
I can’t see much from where I stand frozen, but Michael yells out in pain suddenly.
“I have no beef with you, other than having shitty taste in friends, so consider that a warning,” Ben snaps at Michael. “Stay out of this.”
Charles is gasping for air, struggling to break free of Ben’s hold. Michael slinks away from them both, like a coward.
“Charles,” Ben says his name likes its pure evil. “I need you to listen to me very carefully.”
“Fuck you,” Charles chokes out.
“That’s not listening,” Ben says, landing another punch to his gut.
“You see that beautiful girl right in front of you?” he asks, gripping Charles’ face, making him stare at me.
“Take a good long look, because you’re never going to see her again, okay?
If I ever hear that you even came close to her, I will fucking kill you, and it won’t be quick. Do you understand?”
“Fuck you,” Charles spits out again.
“Wrong. Fucking. Answer.” Ben drops Charles’ face and next thing I know he has a pocketknife in his hands.
He unfolds it. “Let’s try this one more time.
” He holds the knife in front of Charles’ face.
That gets his attention. “If you ever come near Prue again, I will gut you like the fucking pig you are. Understand?”
“I’ll press charges. That’s a threat. I have a witness.”
“And I have money,” Ben counters. “If you think a jail cell will keep me from finding a way to kill you, think again.”
“Fine,” Charles says. “Have her. It’s not like I can’t find another cheap slut anyways.”
Ben doesn’t release him, instead he forces him to turn toward the door. His hand still wrapped around his chest, while the other holds the knife at his neck. He motions for Michael to exit first. He does, keeping his head low. Charles isn’t going to be very happy with him.
Ben shoves Charles out the front door, slamming it shut behind him and doing up the lock. He folds the knife back up, slipping it into his pocket, before resting his head against the door.
“Are you okay?” I ask after a moment of silence.
I find myself unable to move from the wall.
Everything that just happened bounces around my head.
It’s too much to make sense of right now, so I try to keep myself grounded, focusing on Ben instead of the onslaught of emotions that threaten to break me apart.
“Are you?”
“Yes,” I whisper, though I’m not so sure that’s true. I don’t feel any pain, but I don’t feel much of anything right now.
“Liar,” he says, turning his head toward me. His cheek is busted and bloody. I think I’m broken beyond repair because part of me finds it sexy while the other part wants to magically erase the damage my ex caused.
“At least I answered.” He laughs, pulling away from the door. Taking a step toward me, he pauses, wincing in pain. “We should get you to the hospital,” I say, pushing myself from the wall to move toward him.
“I’m fine. I’ve taken worse.” He grins. Hugging his side, I can tell he is barely keeping himself upright. Memories of the way I felt after Charles beat me surface, but I shove them away. Now is not the time to dwell on that.
“I’ve been on the other side of his rage. I know the damage he can inflict.”
“Don’t remind me,” he groans. “I’m this close to going after him and ending his sad existence as it is.”
“Please don’t,” I say. “Just sit.” He nods, sliding to his knees on the ground. Groaning as he leans forward pressing his head to the wooden floor. “I meant on the couch,” I whisper, dropping to my knees beside him.
“I just need a minute,” he mutters. I can tell it hurts him to breathe. I remember how long it took for it not to hurt for me.
“He cracked my rib, probably did the same to you.” I touch his head and he hisses. “You might even have a concussion.”
“Baby,” he groans. “I’m barely keeping from flying off the handle. Please stop talking.”
“Okay.” I fold my hands in my lap.
I want to curl up and cry. Let myself fall to pieces, hide under a dozen blankets and forget I exist.
How did I get myself into this mess? And why did I drag Ben into it with me? He didn’t ask for any of this. I just piled it on him without thinking. It was very selfish of me.
What was I thinking even getting involved with Ben?
I knew Charles’ family wanted him to marry me.
They had a lot riding on our union. They want my family to join their fold, so they had control over their money and company.
My parents didn’t see anything wrong merging businesses, they hoped it would make their empire bigger.
I knew his parents were pressuring him to fix things with me.
I didn’t think they would hold his inheritance over his head, but it makes sense.
It's not like either of our families play fair when it comes to earning their loyalty or love.
I shouldn’t have made a big deal about Charles cheating on me. Shouldn’t have threatened to break up with him. If I just played my part, pretended to not know, none of this would be happening.
Sure, I would’ve missed out on getting to sleep with Ben. And the sex was really great, great enough to almost make it worth all this. Almost.
But come morning, Ben is going to leave and never call me again. I will be left to beg Charles for his forgiveness. Take whatever abuse he dishes out and marry him. I’ll have to go back to being the girl everyone expects me to be and put on a happy face, like I’m not miserable.
Ben lifts his head, looking at me. “I told you to stay in the room.”
“I’m sorry. I was worried about you.”
“I had it under control,” he says, slowly lifting his head off the floor. “Mostly. Fuck.” He grabs at his side. “It’s been a while since someone punched me. I forgot how much it hurts.” He laughs, then wheezes.
“You really should go to the hospital.”
“What will they do? Put me in a wrap and hand me some pain pills? I don’t need any of that bullshit,” he says, resting on his knees.
“What if you have internal bleeding?”
“I probably do,” he groans as he pushes himself to his feet. Walking gingerly toward the couch he picks up the bottle from where he left it earlier. “They will just monitor me for a few hours and then send me a check for half a million dollars.” He takes a sip from the bottle.
“Drinking is probably not a good idea right now.”
“Nothing is a good idea right now.” He plops down on the couch and curses in pain. “Sit where I can see you.”
“Why?” I ask, but move to the couch, sitting on the other end of it. I think if he touches me right now, I will fall apart.
“I don’t trust you not to bolt. You’re a minute away from throwing yourself at the prick’s feet and begging him to take you back because it sounds easier than this.” He waves his hand in the air.
How does he seem to know me so well? No one has ever been able to read me like Ben does and it makes my stomach tense up. I don’t like him knowing me like that. It makes me feel too exposed. Too vulnerable.
“It is easier,” I whisper, tucking my knees against my chest. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”
“Do you really think you could drag me into anything?” He looks over at me. “You could barely take my cock.” He smirks, taking another sip of alcohol. “I got involved because I wanted to.”
“You felt compelled. Obligated.”
“Ha. You really haven’t caught on, have you?” He stretches his legs out, groaning in pain. “I don’t do anything unless I want to.”
“Sure. You only ever do whatever it takes to get what you want. Now you’ve fucked me, gotten what you wanted and when the sun comes up, you’ll be gone and never talk to me again.”
“I said we could be friends.” He cocks his head at me. “Didn’t I say that? I’m not going anywhere, Prue. You are stuck with me.” His eyes shut and the bottle rests in the crook of his arm. “Better get used to it, baby.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I stay quiet. Slowly his breathing evens out and I realize he must have fallen asleep. I move forward, taking the bottle from his arm and he sighs, dropping on his side and groaning.
“Lay with me,” he says, holding his arm out for me.
“You’re hurt.”
“Yeah, but holding you might heal me.”
I carefully lie down beside him, trying not to press my back into him, but letting my head rest on his arm. He sighs before pulling me against his chest. A small gasp leaves his mouth before his breathing evens out again.
I don’t want to be stuck with him. I won’t. Tomorrow I’m going to do whatever it takes to get him to hate me. To push him until he wants nothing to do with me. Then I will return to the weak girl I’ve always been.
Go back to being pathetic Prue, the person my parents want and Charles’ future wife.