Love Came Back (a Pyro-Princess Design and Style novel Book 1) (4 page)

5

Out too late? I had a curfew?

Hitting me by now wasn’t new anymore. Intimacy had not gotten any better. Then he starting calling me names. I tried leaving, he threatened me and when I told him I would go to the police, he threatened my family. My little nephews and niece. I kept silent and let him have his way.

I’ve been to the hospital once already with a broken wrist among other things. After a stupid argument about me coming home late from school. Really? He knows how important school is to me. I remembered that late night in August so vividly. It’s only been a few weeks since it happened. It turned from great to absolute terror in less than a minute.

2 weeks prior

I came home late from school during the new fall semester. I was a double major, majoring in Fashion Design & Merchandising and Business Management. I already acquired my Associates in both and was wanting to work on my bachelors.

The class ran an hour later than usual because we were actually putting together fabrics and sewing them together. It was a major grade and the professor had made it a competition that whoever made the best outfit would get the chance to showcase their designs to actual designers. It was an opportunity of a lifetime so I wanted to stay as long as I could. It became fun and exciting and I completely lost track of time.

When I got home, Mikhail was waiting for me.

“Do you have any fucking idea how worried I’ve been? You didn’t answer my call or text, Siddaleigh.”

His voice raised considerably and I actually flinched in fear. Of course, he noticed this and rose from his perch on the couch and stalked towards me. This time, he backhanded me and shoved my chest with his hands really hard. It hurt something fierce.

The shove was so hard I fell backwards and landed against the closest wall. I heard something pop and realized as I looked down, my wrist hung at an odd angle. I must have hit the brass door knob to the door I fell into. It hurt so badly and my face scrunched up with anger. I told Mikhail I was going to call the police.

“No more. I’m tired of all this crap, Mikhail. I don’t deserve to be treated like this! Don’t make me call the cops.”

Mikhail leaned over me menacingly and fisted the front of my purple polo shirt and brought my face closer to his.

“I’d love to see you try, Siddaleigh. Who’s going to believe you? Don’t make the mistake of bringing the cops into your bad behavior. I have made several of the cops here money by helping them invest wisely with their 401 k’s and their IRA’s. Pretty much, most of them are in my pocket. Don’t think about going to your family either, stupid fat bitch. You wouldn’t want something to happen to any of them would you? What about those little fuckers your sisters shit out? They could always disappear. Keep your fat trap shut you fucking cunt or I’ll do worse. I’ll take you to the hospital and you’ll have that looked at and wrapped or whatever they have to do. Now get to your bedroom and clean yourself up and don’t even think about telling them how you got a busted lip and a broken wrist. Lie, if you know what’s good for you.”

Luckily he stormed off towards his bedroom and I basically scurried to mine. I cradled my wrist with my other hand and shouldered open my room door. The corner of my lip was busted and my cheek had a small scratch that must have come from his college class ring he was so proud of. It didn’t look too bad and I figured I could probably get away with saying I fell. I
did
fall.

Yeah, straight into my own hell.

♥

When I waited for him to take me, he walked down the stairs to tell me since I caused the accident, I should just take myself. I couldn’t drive (I didn’t own a car), so I walked to the bus stop and waited. My wrist was throbbing, my back and head felt sore, and I was ready to ball my eyes out.

I took one of the night buses to Texas Women’s Hospital ER. I didn’t wait too long when a nurse came, took my vitals and lead me to a room

“Miss. Carrington? Hi, I’m Doctor Larsen, you will need to take an x-ray to determine if it’s broken, sprained or just a small fracture. However, it’s not at any odd angle so I am certain it’s not broken. But either way, it will be wrapped and need to stay wrapped and redressed by your PCP. So we’ll get that x-ray work done and you’ll have to wait until they call you back.”

Thanking the good doctor, I stood up from the sterile bed that all hospitals use. I was walking out when Doctor Larsen cleared her throat and said my name.

“Siddaleigh? That black eye and scratch looks a little different from normal scrapes from falling down. Is there anything you need help with?”

I tried to hide my panic, but I guess I just couldn’t get it right. My face flamed and I looked down sharply to come up with the lie I had formed on my way up here.

“No, doctor. I’m just so clumsy sometimes, it’s practically embarrassing. Nothing to be worried about, I promise.”

I pasted the sincerest smile I could muster and brought my face up to look at her. I could tell she knew I was lying but didn’t comment. I couldn’t let Mikhail hurt anyone I loved. I knew when I would finally get back home, Mikhail would apologize profusely. Just another hiccup in our lives.

“Okay. Well, be more careful. Next time it could be much worse.”

Her facial expression softened and she smiled at me as she walked away. I understood her double meaning. I figured she knew when I was lying but not wanting to argue with me or put me on the spot. She wouldn’t have won. I had people I love to protect. Nothing would stop me from keeping them safe from Mikhail.

After the x-rays, and waiting for another hour, Doctor Larsen finally came for me and explained about the small hairline fracture on my wrist. It was wrapped and I was sent home with a prescription for pain and a three day check up with my family doctor, Dr. Dumas.

I went to the pharmacy first by taking a bus from the ER, and then one close enough to walk back to Mikhail’s from there. When I reached the drive, I noticed his car wasn’t anywhere in sight. I made sure I texted him when I walked inside.

Me: Just got back from ER. Small fracture. It’s wrapped. I have to go to my fam DR in 3 days
.

His reply was immediate.

Mikhail: Good. I’ll assume you’ve learned your lesson. Go to bed. I’m working.

Me: Okay. G’Nite.

Mikhail: Night Siddaleigh

You know what happens when people assume, right? It only makes an ass out of you and me.

♥

Fortunately it was my left wrist, so I was able to write for most of my classes. I was taking more business classes than fashion design this semester. I only had a practical class of sewing and just basic drawing and design this semester. My professor was letting me make-up all the hands on stuff for after my wrist healed. She was super laid back which benefitted me greatly.

However, my classes weren’t what I had issues with. It was Mags. She could always see right through my bullcrap. Only known each other for just over a year and she could already detect it.

Sigh.

“What the fuck happened to your face, Sidda?”

Looking around to make sure no bystanders had heard her outburst and to keep others from being privy to my personal life, I chided her to keep her voice down.

“Magdalene, keep it down! I tripped and fell over those heels I like to wear while I was walking down the stairs. I hit my wrist pretty hard on the down fall and my ring scratched my face.”

I made sure to speak as normally and calm enough, so the “Mags Inquisition” would cease.

“Hmm…Say I even buy this. Where was Mikhail?”

I knew she thought I’d hesitate, but she was dead wrong.

“In the next room. When he heard the crash, he came, picked me up and took me to Texas Women’s. Waited there with me and took good care of me.”

Who knew lying would come so easy after the first deception was put out there?

“Hmm, that was mighty sweet of him.”

I knew Mags was still skeptical with that excuse. Even the look on her face was proof positive she didn’t really buy it. She knew I was generally clumsy, but also that I could walk pretty well on heels. She taught me.

She was going to college for shoe design. She wanted a part of my own clothing line when I finally opened my dream boutique to showcase her own designs.

“Mags, I am ok. No harm, much. No foul. Let it go, girl.”

Squinting her golden hazel cat eyes at me, she nodded firmly that she was giving. She believed my lie.
Thank God
.

“Alright, baby-cakes, but if I figure out or find that creepy McCreeperson is laying a hand to you, I will beat his too-good-looking ass into next week, feel me, girl?”

“Yeah, I feel you.”

Her attempt at gangsta talk of ‘feel me’ made me smile and I nodded as we proceeded to go to our weekly lunch date at the local bar and grill.

Our classes were different this semester. Hers centered on shoe making, in which I tease her mercilessly on being a cobbler. Especially since she was a lover of pies as well, the double meaning isn’t lost on her. Her response?

“Why are you so strange?”

Couldn’t help but laugh at that one.

“Duh, you know me Mags, I love making myself laugh and that makes me laugh. Cobbler…almost sounds like gobble, like a turkey? Gobble, gobble, gobble.”

I couldn’t help but crack up laughing. I was indeed strange but silly strange. So it worked out just fine.

She cracks just a few laughs before she sobers up and stares at me with meaning and purpose.

“I know you. I know what you’re doing, baby-cakes.”

“It’s ok, Mags. I’m fine. Let’s get outta here.”

After lunch, we had to go our separate ways. Hers to class and since I had an hour and a half to kill before my next class, I drove to my marketing class. I walked over and sat underneath a shady tree.

Pulling out my brand spanking new book,
Show
No
Mercy
by Cindy Gerard, I lost myself in a love story filled with hot men, and the women that fall for them. I let Jenna and Gabe’s story take me to the heart of Buenos
Aires,
Argentina.

6

Fake ID’s and Birthday Wishes

After my wrist accident, yeah that’s what I’m calling it, I started talking to Mags less and less. Even my family noticed how absent I was. Although for them, my excuse was easy. I hardly saw them with school and a full-time job. Mags on the other hand? Not quite so easy.

I hadn’t realized I was distancing myself so efficiently from everyone I loved. Sure enough, that’s what I was doing, so effortlessly.

Since that lunch in late August, things had been strained between Mags and myself. I knew she must have suspected that Mikhail was involved in my wrist accident, but after our little wtf-happened-to-you inquisition, Mags stayed out of my relationship with him.

I knew she wanted me to drop him and move on, and I was almost at the point of not caring and just hoofing it. How could I let the threats he’s holding over my shoulders about my family go without a thought? I couldn’t do that. If it was a choice between my family and me for safety? It was my family. Hands down. It was a risk that I just couldn’t bear to take.

♥

Mikhail was gone the weekend of my twentieth birthday. Mags told me she was going to take me out to celebrate. I tried to refuse, I didn’t want to be a victim once again to Mikhail’s wrath.

But Mags, God love her, didn’t take no for an answer. No refusals. My bestie, the wench, told me to pack an overnight bag because we were hitting up 6
th
Street in Austin. If you’ve never been to Austin and 6
th
Street, it’s a ‘partiers partiest’ party. The whole street of clubs and bars. Every college students dream.

We were looking tight and hot in our sequined mini dresses. Mine was purple, hers was teal. I designed them last year in our first design class. Mags even made our heels to match each other’s dress. Never let it be said we didn’t coordinate our clothes with one another.

“Um, Mags, this is cool, but we aren’t even twenty-one. We can’t even drink. I don’t think this is a good idea.”

That’s when this chick, my bestest friend in the world, pops out two fake-ass ID’s. Yes, they looked real, but totally fake. Never had a fake ID before!

Mags noticed my freaked-out face, and laid her hands on my shoulders.

“Girlfriend, we are going to celebrate your birthday, in style. Free birdies for the night. Mike’s gone for the weekend and I’m so not dating right now. With our hour glass figures, we shouldn’t be buying our own damn drinks anyway. Let’s throw some shapes. If we want to drink, all those guys should buy it for us. It’s no big. Fun is the word this night girlfriend. Siddaleigh, fun, you remember fun, right?”

“Agh, fuck it. Alright, Mags. I know I’ll probably regret this come morning but let’s get our groove on.”

♥

By two in the AM, we were both half lit and loving it. My poison of choice? Jägerbombs. Tastes just like Vicks Nyquil. No problem ever taking that before. And after two more hours, we were feeling just right.

Full faculties’ and awareness was fading. All the shit over the past seven months was so far from my mind. We danced with a few guys, hopefully they were hot, but mostly we danced with each other. This night was not about dudes. It was about chicks before dicks. As Mags pointed out to me as we hopped from bar to bar and club to club.

Mags made reservations at a swanky hotel within walking distance which was so beneficial for us. We imbibed too well it seems. Calling it a night at half past four, I turned to Mags in the elevator.

“Thanks Mags. I needed this so badly. I had the
best
time!” I hugged her fiercely and she returned it with just as much gusto.

“Happy birthday, Siddaleigh. Anything for my bestie and sista’ from another motha’.”

We drunkenly made it to our room and when we opened the door we practically fell over the threshold giggling in happiness. We didn’t care about undressing, we just made our way over to the queen size bed. We didn’t need two beds, because we’ve shared a bed in our apartment whenever the other needed comfort and a shoulder to cry on. Our shoulders knew each other’s tears of joy, happiness, sorrow and heartbreak.

The next thing I’m seeing is the back of my eye lids. That night, I had no dreams. Just sweet blissful sleep.

I woke up with Mags and myself facing each other. Mags usually slept like the dead. Looking at her closed eye lids, I told her everything. I knew she wouldn’t hear me. I just couldn’t keep my troubles to myself anymore. How everything since the day I moved out was such a mistake and I wanted to be free of him. About the threat hanging over my head. It was only a matter of time before he threatened my relationship with Mags and I knew I wouldn’t be able to survive without her. She was my glue most of the time since we met. Two young girls needing friendship and a loyalty I just never had before her.

I had a good size hangover but without the headache. Disentangling myself from the sheets, I got up to relieve myself of the awful feeling of fullness in my bladder. After the flush, I looked up into the bathroom mirror.

Holy schnikies. I looked rough. We didn’t even think about changing. So my dress clung to my curves like a tick. My boobs were ready to pop out and greet the world. After adjusting, I tried to clean my face as best as I could. That’s when I heard my iPhone belting out
Hot and Cold
by Katy Perry. Definitely Mikhail’s song.

Oh, shit. That was Mikhail’s ringtone. Texts and calls. I scrambled over to the bed and snatched it before it woke up Mags.

Twenty missed calls, two voicemails, and ten text messages. I checked the texts first as I walked into the front room with closing the bedroom door behind me.

Mikhail: 8pm Happy Birthday

8:30 Hello?

8:47 Where are you?

9:00 Why aren’t you answering me Siddaleigh?

9:15 Austin?

11:00 I hope you’re enjoying yourself

11:15 You better answer when I call you next, Siddaleigh Mare

12am Hmm, no answer

1:00: Oh Siddaleigh

1:38 You need another lesson, don’t you?

No.
No, no, no, no.
What have I done? I was too afraid to check the voicemails. I knew better though. If I didn’t, it would be most likely ten times worse when I get home and didn’t remember what he said.

First voicemail was at fifteen after eight.
You’re not answering your phone, baby. Hopefully you had a long day at school and are asleep. You aren’t working much these days anymore. I know it’s not where you are. I checked with your boss. Happy 20
th
Birthday. For being a good girl the last few weeks, maybe we could go out tomorrow night and celebrate
.

Okay, that one didn’t sound so bad. Not bad at all compared to the second.

This one was at eleven forty-five.
Austin? Really, Siddaleigh? Let me guess. Mags? You really should’ve known better. We will discuss this at length when you get home. I will give you until two this afternoon because your bitch ass will be drunk. Most likely. Which that will be discussed as well. If you are late, you will receive more than what you already will be punished for. Don’t make me reach out to someone you love
.

Fuck! It’s eight thirty in the morning!

“MAGS! Get up! We gotta go! Mikhail wants to take me out tonight to celebrate my birthday! I need to get home and get myself ready!”

I skidded back in the bedroom and tore the sheets from her scantily clothed body and ripped off her face mask.

“MAGS, NOW!”

“Ugh. Fine, baby-cakes. Calm down, and you are so driving.”

No effing problem. We packed our small amount of clothing after changing into jeans and t-shirts.

Never in my life did I need to get home as fast as I needed to get home this day. I broke every limit I could within reason without getting caught and got home.

Stat.

♥

With just thirty minutes to spare, I dropped myself off and tossed Mags the keys. With a hasty thank you for the best present ever and even a hastier goodbye, I jogged down the drive, stopped at the porch then calmed myself before walking in,

Going through the door and closing it behind me, the house seemed so eerily quiet. The shadows from the curtains swallowed any light from the windows and that’s when I felt him behind me. My mind was screaming,
help me, God.