Marked. Part I: The missing Link (3 page)

“
You both are crazy. Lily’s suffering from a broken heart, so she’s not thinking clearly, but you have no excuse,” Naomi points a finger at Stevie, wiggling it, daring her to defend herself.

“
I'm not interested in him,” I quickly blurt out, “I was only agreeing that his eyes are unique.”

Naomi lets out a “humph” from the back of her throat, “Evil's a more accurate description.”

“Can we please talk about something besides my neighbor?”

“
Are your Dad and Jill back from their cruise yet?” Naomi asks.

Cody is Jill's son. My dad married Jill when Cody was five, raising him as his own. His biological father skipped out on them when he was only a year old. I don't even think my dad remembers Cody's not technically his. He loves and cares for Cody exactly as he does for Seth and I.

“They got home last Friday. He asked about you two and was hoping we could plan a day to have you guys over for dinner.”

Stevie lights up, “Yes, please! Your dad's food is orgasmic! Name a time and I'm there.”

“Ditto!” Naomi exclaims, with the same level of fervor.

“
Okay, I'll set it up.”

Stevie downs a shot of whiskey, “Are you going to go back to switching houses every week?”

My brothers have switched houses every other week since the day Dad married Jill. I remember when I was younger thinking it was weird that Jill didn't care if her son stayed with another mom so often, but now that I'm older I realize she probably liked it. It gave her and my dad alone time in the beginning of their relationship, when they were hot and heavy for each other. I switched too until I left for college.

“
Naw, I prefer to stay with my mom. It's nice to have a break from my brothers and their friends. Plus, I can go see him whenever I want to.” When my parents divorced, my dad bought a house a few blocks down from ours so he could be easily accessible to us. Lucky for Seth and me, Jill loved the house and wanted to stay living there when they got married.

Stevie takes another shot of whiskey, “Is it weird living at home again? I'd rather saw off my own arm than have to live with my dad again.”

“It's not so bad. I love not having to use laundromats, there's always an abundance of food, and consistently hot water. Three things my life has been lacking since I went away to college. The part that sucks is having someone needing to know where I am at all times again.”

Stevie lets out one hard laugh, “Will was no different. He had to know what you were doing every second of the day, and if he didn't he would text you every minute until you called him.”

“True, but it's different when your boyfriend does it than your mom.”

“
I disagree. Your mom does it because she loves and worries about you. Will did it because he needed to control you and had some weird sense of ownership crap with you. He was fucking obsessed.”

“
That's being a bit dramatic. He wasn't that bad. He just needs order and structure. He can't stand not being in control of all aspects of his life.”

“
Did he get violent any other time?” Naomi casually asks, but I can tell she as been brewing on this, “I mean, he always seemed to have a temper with you.”

“
Are you asking if we had an abusive relationship?” My stomach starts churning and my chest feels heavier, making it hard to breathe.

An unspoken conversation transpires between Naomi and Stevie. They've obviously been talking about me behind my back.

“Kind of. We just always worried that he might one day. After the St. Patrick’s Day party, we've been a little afraid.” Naomi speaks cautiously, as if this was a damn intervention. We are already broken up!

“
No, it was the first time,” I sneer, grinding my teeth. “What does it matter now anyway? We're over.”

Both eyes flicker to the bouncer, my neighbor, and I feel my blood start to boil.

“You both think I'm attracted to him because abuse is all I know!” I keep my voice low, but the menace behind my words is not lost.

There is another secretive, knowing glance between them. Now I'm getting pissed.

Stevie sighs, “It's not that, we're just worried about you. You don't want to talk about it and keep pretending like it's no big deal.”

My breathing is becoming erratic as I try to calm the rage I feel building up. I didn't even realize I had been chewing on my lip until the distinct taste of blood hits my tongue.

“That's because it's not.”

“
Two years is a long time to be with someone for what happened to not affect you,” Naomi has turned on her authoritative tone that up until now never bothered me, “but to be honest, I was more worried you two would get married and he'd take his weird sense of ownership of you to another level.”

“
How long have you two felt this way about me and Will?”

They shoot another glance at each other and I tighten my fists in aggravation.

“Almost from the beginning,” Stevie softly answers.

“
And you never came to me about it?” I'm proud of myself for keeping my voice at a steady level.

“
You really liked him, but there was always something about him that was a bit off. At first we both just didn't like him. It wasn't until the St. Patrick's Day party that we began to worry.”

“
So you're telling me that the two of you have been talking behind my back for two years!?” I shout back at them, feeling hurt and betrayed.

Naomi reaches for my arm but I shrug it off. “It wasn't like that. It's not like we consistently talked about you and sat around gossiping.”

“I need to get some fresh air,” I finish my drink and set it on the bar.

Stevie finishes off her beer, “We'll go with you. I need a smoke anyway.”

“I need a minute to myself. I know it's not rational to feel this pissed at you guys. So I just need a minute to get some fresh air. 'Kay?”

They both nod and I head for the back exit, weaving my way through the crowd. Once the cool night air hits my lungs I feel better. I slump against the brick wall next to the door and close my eyes, concentrating on deeply breathing. I shouldn't be this mad at them. I obviously have bottled-up anger over what happened with Will that I wasn't recognizing...or didn't want to recognize. I would be concerned too if I was them and witnessed what happened between Will and I back in March.

One of Will's cousin's throws a kick-ass St. Patrick's Day party every year. Before we left that year, Will had me change three times because each outfit I had chosen was “too slutty,” and then later that night he cut me off from drinking after I had had only two gimlets. His excuse was he didn't need me getting drunk and embarrassing him in front of his family. At the time it made sense; I tend to lose my clothes the drunker I get. It got ugly when a guy tried dancing with me, despite my refusal. Will saw it as me dancing with another guy and went ape-shit on the guy, beating him senseless and then grabbing my wrist so hard I had a hand print around it for days. He told me to quit being a fucking whore and dragged me upstairs to a bathroom, forcing me to sit under the shower to “sober up” while ice cold water pelted my skin. The next day he apologized over and over and I stupidly forgave him. Nothing that drastic happened again until recently, but he had grabbed hold of my arm a bit too tightly a few times and continued to demean me verbally.

I hang my head down in shame, cradling it into my hands. My friends have every right to be concerned. Had it been the other way around I would be furious at the guy. I should be furious at him for myself.

I don't even recognize myself anymore. I'm so far removed from the girl I used to be. I can't say for sure when the transformation occurred. It was a slow process, one Will had molded over the two years we were together. He was the most amazing, perfect boyfriend in the beginning. He was smart, clever, funny, romantic, all the things one looks for in a partner, so when he started making suggestions to me about what I wore, how I acted, who I spent my time with, I listened; I trusted his advice. It was only a few months into our relationship that he started to become bossy, controlling, and smothering, but I had always found some excuse as to why it was okay.

I groan into my hands. What is wrong with me that I would allow this to happen?

“Hey,” a man's voice spoke a few feet in front of me. I lift my head up to find three men peering at me with hooded eyes and sinister smiles.

Adrenaline starts pumping and my body's flight mode kicks in. I reach for the door knob next to me, only to find it locked.

Shit.

They smile more wickedly at me and step closer.

“My boyfriend's waiting for me around the corner. I hate when he smokes so I'm waiting here for him to finish.”

“
Bullshit,” one of them smiles and every instinct in my body tells me to flee.

So I do.

I run to the main street and veer left, knowing the entrance of the bar is around the corner.

To my delight I hear no feet following behind me, and just as I'm about to turn the corner to the safety of the main street I run face first into the chest of a man.

“Where do you think you're going?” The man easily lifts my hundred and ten pound body. I try fighting against him but I'm too weak; my small frame and tiny bones are no match for this guy. I do the only thing I can think of and scream. I scream from the center of my core and give it everything I have.

He clasps his hand over my mouth and I bite down. Hard. He pulls it away and slaps me. My eyes fill up and my cheek feels like it's on fire.

He holds my arms tightly to my sides but low enough that I can reach for his dick and twist the shit out of it. I drop to the ground as he cries out in pain. I start running when I realize the three men from the alley are waiting for me. I have nowhere to go. My eyes scan everywhere around me but the only place to go is across the street, where the lights are out and it's pitch black.

Panic is clawing at my throat. All I can hear is my heavy breathing and the pounding in my chest.

The man I hurt quickly recovers and lunges for me. I flee across the street at the same time a car rips around the corner, almost hitting me; it would have if my waist had not been taken over. I'm being carried back onto the curb. For a split second I feel relief until I see the man holding me is one of the four I'm trying to escape. I try to scream but another man's hand stuffs a cloth in my mouth and holds it in place. Tears start to blur my vision and I squirm my body around as best as I can. Another pair of strong hands grab hold of my calves and then shove me into a car.

I'm laying across two of them, butt in the middle seat, and they have me pinned down. I've never moved my body so hard in my life. I know the odds are against me, but I'm not going to let up until they are done with me.

I hear the engine of the car purr to life and I flip out, trying to scream through the cloth and thrash as hard as I can. This makes them laugh gleefully and a hand trails up my leg, cupping my sex, rubbing it with his fingers. Another hand slides down my shirt, under my bra, and starts playing with my breasts. They all start talking about all the fun and dirty things they want to do to me.

I have never been more terrified in my life when one of them describes in horrid detail what they are going to do. I throw up and start choking on my vomit. The man cupping my breasts sits me up and lets me choke on it without suffocating myself.

“We're not into fucking dead girls,” they all laugh at this remark. I slam my head back and triumphantly smack my skull against the jaw of the man behind me.

“
Fuck you, you little cunt! Take her pants off, I want to teach her a lesson.”

“
Let me drive off first. Once we're back at our place you can have her first.”

“
Fuck that, she needs to be taught now! When we get there I'll teach it to her again, but that time I won't go easy on her.”

“
Fine, but make it quick.”

The man pinning my legs repositions so he's over me and by doing so my legs are free. I kick with a power and strength I don't know I possess. The glass window shatters and the man on top flies off me and out the window. Damn, I'm good!

“What the fuck!?” They all yell, and that's when I realize the glass shattering wasn't done by me but another man.

The door opens and I'm airborne and brought to the sidewalk.

The other three men bustle out of the car with knives and brass knuckles in hand.

My neighbor's standing in front of me, protecting me with his body like a shield. My eyes flick to the man lying in a bloody mess next to me, and I'm fairly certain he isn't breathing.

“If you think you can protect her, you're a fucking idiot. You may be a monster of a fellow, but there's three of us and we have these.” They flash their weapons.

“
Good, it should make this more fun.” I can't see my neighbor's face, but from the animalistic growl he spits out I don't have to.

“
For us, but certainly not you.”