Chapter Seven #2
Can’t Break What’s Already Broken by Ronnie OBriant blares through the speakers, rattling the walls.
Thank fuck Dad owns the floor beneath me.
No one is below me to complain. I sit under the scalding spray, letting the hot water pound over me, trying to wash the night off my skin.
What the fuck is wrong with me? Did I really give up fighting that easily?
Tears roll hot over my cheeks, the weight pressing down until I can hardly breathe.
I’m exhausted. My chest burns from where the blade kissed skin, a sharp reminder that tonight wasn’t just in my head.
Fuckkkkkkk, he came in me. I make a mental note to hit the pharmacy and schedule a doctor's appointment, adding it to the growing list of things I don’t have the energy for.
Finally dragging myself out of the shower, I pull on an oversized shirt and crawl under the covers.
The city glows outside my windows, all those lives moving on while I lie here stuck in the echo of tonight.
Lila’s ringtone breaks the silence I was content to suffer in.
I put it on speakerphone and drop it on the pillow next to me. “Hey,” my voice is rough, hollow.
“Umm, hey. I was checking on how the opera went, but judging by your voice, it wasn’t great.” Pity threads through Lila’s voice. “You okay?”
How do I even answer that? Physically, I’m okay.
Mentally, I’m fucking wrecked. How am I supposed to explain that?
She’d never understand— she’d march me straight to the police station, demanding I press charges.
I’m angry at myself and furious with him, but a fucked up, twisted part of me doesn’t want him in trouble.
I did consent in the end. Something in me wanted it.
I let out a slow sigh. “Yeah, I’m just exhausted. ” I lie. “It was a long night.”
“Are you sure? I can come over if you need me,” she offers quietly.
“No, I’m okay. I’m just going to sleep. I’ll call you in the morning. Love you,” I rush out before she can argue.
“Okay, well, if you need me, I’m here. You can always call me whenever.
Love you too.” We say our final goodnights and hang up.
I continue to lie there, staring out at the city lights bleeding against the glass.
After a minute, the hairs on the back of my neck begin to lift, a slow crawl of awareness skating across my skin.
It feels like something out there is staring right back.
I drag my gaze away and force a breath, telling myself it’s just leftover adrenaline, just my brain replaying tonight on loop. Eventually, exhaustion wins, and sleep drags me under, watched or not.
“Asher, I said no.” I shove off the couch, heading toward the door.
My fingers barely brush the knob before pain lances across my scalp, and I’m yanked backward by my hair.
“What the FUCK, Ash? What is wrong with you?” I snarl, clawing at his wrist. He doesn’t answer.
He just keeps dragging me down the hall toward the bedroom.
“Asher, let me go. You know who my dad is. You don’t want to do this.
” I fling my arms out, wild, grabbing for anything— doorframe, table edge, anything I can use to slow him down, to get even the slightest leverage.
“You think I care? Who do you think set me up with you?” His face twists into an ugly, evil smile.
“Do you honestly think someone of my stature would want someone like you? Foul-mouthed, broken little girl.” He laughs as he hauls me up and throws me onto the bed.
I hit the mattress, and my body bounces.
My foot flies up on instinct and cracks against his mouth.
“You fucking bitch.” His fist comes fast and hard; everything goes black.
Flying out of bed, I jerk upright, lungs burning.
My heart slams against my ribs, my senses on overdrive—a leftover mix of nightmare and that crawling certainty that someone’s still watching me.
It takes a few wild seconds for my brain to catch up.
I’m in my room. Same walls. Same windows.
Nothing out of place. The normalcy feels almost insulting.
I force myself to breathe, to call it what it probably is: paranoia wearing last night’s face.
I throw on a hoodie and sweats and head out, choosing to walk to the pharmacy.
Needing the cold air in my lungs and the ground under my feet.
On my way, I call my doctor. “Hi, yes. I need to make an appointment for today… Kiera Hawthorne… February 14th, 2000… Okay, I’ll see you in thirty minutes.
Thank you.” Conveniently, my doctor’s office sits right next to the pharmacy.
The convenience doesn’t stop the feeling from slithering back up my spine.
The sensation settles between my shoulder blades, sharp enough to stop and scan the street.
Nothing screams danger. Still, I turn and rush the rest of the way, ducking into the pharmacy, heading straight for the counter. “Can I get a Plan B, please?”
“You know it’s not meant to replace protection, right?” The older woman behind the counter gives me a look as if I’ve personally offended her god.
“Plan B works best when Plan A isn’t raw dogging it,” I say, giving her my sweetest smile dripping in sarcasm. “Now, can I have my fucking pills? I’m late for my STD screening.”
The lady's mouth opens and closes, her hand flying to clutch at her imaginary pearls. Eventually, she just turns to the register and rings me up. “That’ll be fifty-six dollars, cash or card?”
“EBT,” I deadpanned. “Jesus fucking Christ. Card.” The lady was clearly not amused with me. Swiping my card, I snatch the bag and receipt and walk out without another glance.
After a few minutes, I walk up to the doctor’s receptionist’s desk. “Hi, I’m here to check in,” I say, giving the receptionist my ID. “Kiera Hawthorne.”
The lady smiles at me. “Got you checked in. Go ahead and take a seat. We’ll call your name when the doctor is ready.
” I drop into the closest empty chair and scroll through my phone while I wait.
“Miss Hawthorne, the doctor is ready for you.” I grab my stuff and stand.
“Just follow the nurse,” the receptionist adds, and I trail after the woman in scrubs down the hallway.
The nurse leads me to the scale. I step on. She notes my weight, then guides me into an empty exam room, the door clicking shut behind us. She moves to the counter, tapping at the computer. “And what brings you in today?” she asks.
“Ummm, well…I had unprotected sex, and I’d like to be tested, if that's okay.” After the encounter with the pharmacist, I’m over being judged.
The nurse smiles. “Sure, no problem at all. How long ago was it?” she asks, fingers already moving across the keyboard, entering my answers.
“Less than twenty-four hours ago,” I say, staring down at my hands.
“Hey, there is nothing to be ashamed of. Things happen,” she says gently. “You did the right thing by coming in. I only ask because some STDs take a while to show up. We’ll test you today for ones that can show this soon, and then have you come back in a couple of weeks, okay?”
“Okay,” I say, nodding.
“Okay, here’s a urine sample cup,” she says.
“There’s a bathroom attached right through that door.
I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She passes me the cup and leaves the room.
I stand and take the little plastic cup, heading to the attached bathroom to pee in it.
I fucking hate my life right now. When I’m done, I set the cup on the counter for collection and sink back on the exam table.
A few minutes later, the nurse comes back in.
“Okay, so we’ll test this and send you a message on the app,” she says.
“The next tests will be mouth swabs and blood draws. The receptionists will schedule that appointment with you as you leave. Do you have any questions?”
“No, thank you.” I gather my things, ready to get this over with.
“Okay, the exit is to your left. Schedule those appointments. I’ll see you in a few days.” She smiles and walks out of the room. I follow her directions to the reception desk and set up the follow-up appointment, answering when and where like it’s just another errand.
Finally, free from this horrendous morning, I step outside and start the walk back to my apartment. I pull out my phone and call Lila. She picks up on the first ring, “Took you long enough. Are you feeling any better?”
Smiling for the first time today, I say, “Yes and no. I just left the doctor's. I was feeling under the weather, but I’ll live. I’m heading home. Want to meet me there? We can have a snuggle day with movies and snacks…” I basically plead.
“Um, yeah! Heading over there now.” She hangs up. Maybe we can make a good day out of today after all.