Worth It (21 page)

“I’m sorry,” I whisper back.

Once I’m quiet, he takes off my shorts and panties flings them to the side of the room. He doesn’t even take his pants or my shirt all the way off before he roughly spreads my legs. I don’t give much resistance because I don’t want him to hurt me again. If I give him this, he’ll love me. I don’t want to show my love for him like this, but he says this is the only way he knows for sure. I do love him. I’m only fifteen, but I love him, and I need him desperately. He lays over me and positions himself before thrusting roughly into me.

A soft cry slips past my lips.
Oh my God, this hurts so bad.

He pinches me again. “Shut up. My aunt will hear you, you little whore. Only whores make noise during sex.”

My vision blurs again from both my tears of pain. I try to be as still and quiet as possible as he moves on top of me, inside me. I work to slow my breathing and relax, so it won’t hurt as much.

Is this what sex is always like?
I don’t understand why anyone would want to do this. Every time he does this, it hurts. Each thrust burns me, stings me, tears me.

He holds my shoulders down and moves fast and hard. As he goes faster and harder, I’m almost to my breaking point of pain, and I’m pretty sure he’s made me bleed again. His low grunts are all I hear over my roaring heartbeats in my ears. Finally, he goes stiff, and then he rolls over. He’s lying next to me, panting, while I’m throbbing. It hasn’t hurt this bad since the first time. I clench my teeth, so I don’t sob out loud. I take calming deep breaths, willing the pain away. I showed him I love him, and he loves me.
It’s okay. It’s over. I made him happy, and that’s all that really matters.

He curls his arm around me and brings me close to his chest. Then, he kisses the top of my head. The comforting gesture helps soothe the pain, like water to a fire.

“You’re a shitty lay, Savannah, but I love you for trying.”

I don’t really know what to say to that. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do differently, and it sucks that I can’t do it right, but he loves me enough to put up with my inexperience. That is the key—he loves me. I have his love, and it sheds light into my dark world.

“I love you, too.”

“You better,” he says coldly as he strokes my hair.

“What?”

He tightens his fingers in my hair and turns my head to face him. My eyes widen from the sting on my scalp.

“I said, you better love me, me and only me, or you’ll regret it.”

I shoot up in bed, feeling nauseous, with a cold sweat covering my shaking body. I frantically look around the dark room, and when I realize I’m home in my own bed, I flop back onto my pillow. I run a trembling hand down my face, trying to control my racing heart, and I take deep breaths to keep the nausea at bay.

My fingers twitch, but I clench my teeth to stop the cutting urge from taking over. I force myself to think of why I’m having the nightmares again, so I can get the memory I just experienced out of my head. Sam’s crazy behavior is definitely starting to freak me the fuck out. He has never acted like he cares, and him wanting me back is messing with my head. The aggressive turn he’s taken scares the shit out of me. After the run-in at the café, I’ve started doing my schoolwork in my car, but the phone calls continue. I think a piece of me is nervous about Jed, too. I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop because things feel too good to be true. I’m happy, and it makes me edgy. I don’t want to get too comfortable because I need to be mentally prepared for when it all comes crashing down. I’m scared that being so high will make me fall further than…before.

As my heart calms and my nausea recedes, I brace myself for the inevitable aftermath of my nightmare. I can never dam the impending flood. Images flash through my mind, images and feelings of being used and neglected and unloved. I try to stifle my sobs as I begin to wallow in self-pity. I wish I were taller, skinnier, prettier, smarter…just more everything.

Stop spiraling, Anna.

But I can’t stop the tears or my body from sagging and shaking or my heart from ripping into a million pieces. No matter what I do, what I put up with, what I say, nothing is ever good enough.
I
am never good enough.

I clench my teeth together to prevent myself from screaming in frustration at my thoughts. I know these thoughts aren’t healthy. On some level, I know a lot of the things I’ve dealt with are not okay, but I can’t stop myself from thinking this way
. If I were worth it, wouldn’t I be treated like it? Wouldn’t I be loved? If I can’t even get these guys, these assholes, to care about me, then who am I going to end up with? Not Jed.

“Stop doing this to yourself, Anna,” I whisper fiercely to my empty room.

I shake my head because there’s nothing I hate more than self-pity and acting like a victim. Everyone has rocks to carry, and there are much heavier rocks than mine. I wish I were stronger, strong enough to carry mine.
Why can’t I carry these measly little pebbles when people have giant boulders to haul
?

Lately, I’ve been having a much harder time keeping my emotions in check. I’ve been trying to bury my shit deep enough, so I could walk away from it, but these emotions bubble up faster than I can get rid of them. It’s like playing Whac-A-Mole with super fast moles.

As my fingers brush over the faint scars on my wrist, a surge of adrenaline nearly takes over. My heartbeat speeds up, and I rub my sweaty palms together. I glance toward my nightstand, and the urge grows stronger. But I don’t reach for it. I can’t. I can’t go back to that place.

I squeeze my eyes shut. “Stop beating yourself up. Stop thinking about it. Stop wallowing, Anna. Move on.”

I can’t change the past. I can only move forward and forget. I take a deep breath and try to focus on the good that I have with Jed even though I know it’s wrong to do that. All the psych shit says I need to be happy with myself before I can be happy with anyone else. I know that, but for right now, as I wipe away my tears, I think of Jed—his smile, his laughter, his kindness, his kisses. I think of all that he is and how happy he makes me. Even if having him is temporary, maybe these few memories will help me through the dark times, like now. I need this moment to chase the nightmares.

I know that this relief will be temporary because it’s been six years since
he
vanished from my life, and as hard as I try, the nightmares don’t want to be chased away permanently.

“Hey, Mark. What’s going on, bro?” I say when I answer my cell.

I’m just leaving work, and I plan on stopping by the pizza shop to see my girl before I hit the gym for an hour.

“Hey, man. I just wanted to give you an update about the wedding.”

“Shoot.”

“I landed the Parker account, but I have to be in New York from Sunday until Wednesday the week of the wedding, so—”

“Shit, man, congrats on the account. Is Maggie pissed?” I interrupt.

He sighs. “She’s not excited, but it’s not cutting it too close, so she’s not that upset. She wants to have the rehearsal dinner the weekend before though. We’ll do the ceremony at the hotel, and then we’ll head back to our place for dinner.”

“All right, that sounds good. What are you doing about the bachelor party then? The wedding is only a month away, and I thought we had planned to do it the weekend before.”

“I talked to my brother and Maggie, and I think we’ll just do a poker night here in the basement.” He pauses and chuckles. “I think Maggie is gonna have the girls over for fondue and to paint toenails or some shit.”

I laugh. “All right, man, sounds good. You sure you’re cool with just having a poker night?”

“Yeah, Mags doesn’t want me to go to the strip club. I got the steak at home, so I don’t need to see a burger prancing around—or whatever the saying is.”

I grin. “I hear ya. I think I might have a steak myself.”

“The pizza chick?”

“Yeah. Anna is great,” I tell him, smiling.

“So, she’s no Danielle?” he asks warily.

“God no!” I spit out. “Anna is her opposite in every way.”

“You sure?”

“Fuck yes.”

“That’s good.” He laughs. “Remember when Danielle called your sister a stupid bitch for putting olives in her salad?”

“Don’t remind me. Everyone in my family hated her. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking.”

“Yeah, I’m lucky Maggie gets along really well with all my family.”

“Who doesn’t she get along with?”

Maggie is a sweetheart, and she avoids all confrontation if she can help it. If she’s pushed, she’ll put her foot down, but she’ll allow things most people wouldn’t.

“I can’t believe you had to catch her trying to rub up on Zach to finally cut her loose.”

“Ugh. He was so disgusted. He was trying to push her off when I walked in the room. I don’t know what the fuck her deal was. By that point, I was about done anyway. It was almost a year down the drain. Waste of my life.”

“Nah, dude. Live and learn. You can’t appreciate the good if you’ve never experienced the bad, right?”

That’s good advice to live by.
“I guess,” I say. “The fucking aftermath of the breakup is all the bad I think I can take. She threw a fit when I told her we were done. She called for weeks and showed up crying, yelling, and screaming at my apartment, my parents’ house, or my work. You’d think she’d caught me with her sister or that I’d killed her cat.”

“Yeah, man, I remember. You had to call her mother to tell her that Danielle was embarrassing herself.”

“I know it was low, but I didn’t know how else to get rid of her. For some reason, appearances were everything in that family. Climbing the social ladder and all that bullshit. I think her mom was happy to be rid of me.”

“Thank God. She was nuts, man.” He laughs. “I really hope Anna works out for you, bro.”

“I hope so, too.”
Judging by the last few weeks, I’d say she probably will.
“I should let you go. I’m pulling up to Anna’s work now.”

“All right, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Later.” I hang up and toss my phone in my cup holder.

I pull into the parking lot of the pizza shop and think about the difference between Anna and Danielle. They’re night and day—or demon and angel is more like it. Anna is sweet, and I see strength in her, too. She has a passion for teaching, for bettering herself. And she’s such a good friend—I can tell by the way her friends acted when I met them and the way Anna talks about them. Her brand of loyalty is rare these days. I know it’s only been a couple of weeks, but I’ve never felt like this before. I don’t think I love Anna, not yet, but I think I will. I’m pretty sure I’ll fall hard and fast.

She’s got me thinking like a fucking pussy. Where the fuck did my balls go?

When I open the door, I spot Anna bending over a table, wiping it down.
Fuck, she’s so sexy.

Everything slows as I watch her, like it’s the beginning of a porno. Cue the music as she turns to me with a coy smile and hungry eyes. She tosses the rag over her shoulder. Then, she leisurely lifts off her shirt and drops it to the floor. Her hand goes to her jeans, and she unbuttons them. She slides them down her hips and past her thighs and calves. Then, she steps out of them and kicks them at me. She crooks her finger for me to come to her, and then she bends over the table, wearing just her lacy bra and panties. She peeks over her shoulder at me with a come-get-me look.

I need to file that fantasy away for another time. She’s still wiping down the table, fully clothed, and I’m standing here, drooling with a raging hard-on, but at least no one is in here, so I can try to discreetly adjust myself. I want her all the time. She’s even hotter now that I know how awesome she is.

She stands, still facing away from me, her shoulders move like she’s letting out a breath, and rolls her neck. I slowly and quietly make my way over to her when she lifts her hand, bends her head forward, and starts to massage her neck.