Attest (Centrifuge Duet Book 2)(39)
“It’s so good to be able to touch you again, Lainey,” Brendan whispers against my cheek. “I’ve missed touching you more than you could believe. Watching you since I left that hellhole has been torture, especially knowing I had to wait until today to claim you as mine again.”
I gasp at his statement, pulling as far away from him as he’ll let me.
“How have you been watching me? Mik has precautions set up. You haven’t been anywhere near the city or we would’ve known.” The second Mik’s name falls from my lips, I know I’ve made a big mistake. He has a long history of irrational jealousy toward my fiancé.
Brendan’s face changes from loving to irate in a split second. Letting go of my arms, he stands with calculated abruptness. I topple backward off his lap and onto the carpeted floor. He unleashes his anger, slapping me across the face twice, and worsening the damage Cain has already caused to my face.
As I cower, waiting for another slap, he pulls me to my feet by the front of my shirt. I'm barely upright when he grabs my hand and tugs me behind him, through the modern kitchen and into a formal living area. I want to pull my hand from his, but it’s the only thing keeping me upright as he strides in front of me.
There’s a huge telescope pointing toward large bay windows. A room like this should be filled with expensive chaises, televisions, and coffee tables. Instead, it has three desks, numerous filing cabinets, and a large open gun safe lining the perimeter. The walls have paperwork and photos pinned all over them. A quick glance tells me that I’m the subject of most of the photos.
Brendan shoves me into the chair behind the telescope.
“Have a look,” he grunts. “I have been watching you, making sure that dirty biker doesn’t touch you. I was always coming back for you. You’re mine. You always will be, as much as you try to fight it.”
Brendan grabs me by the back of my neck and forces my face toward the eyepiece.
Resistance is futile. I learned this years ago, so I let him position my head where he wants it.
“Given your slutty tendencies, I’m not surprised you ran to him the second I was gone. You will be making up for that and every other damn thing you’ve done to me very soon,” he tells me, certainty colouring his tone.
Attempting to tune out his threats, I peer into the telescope and pray that I'm not about to see what I fear he wants to show me. No such luck since, just as I feared, the house I share with Mik stares back at me.
There’s a large nature reserve between this house and mine containing a playground, bike track, and public amenities. I can see my car in the driveway with Mik’s Harley parked next to it. Mik is pacing on the front deck, running his hand through his hair in jerky, agitated movements. His phone to his ear, I can make out his mouth moving as he speaks.
Dragging my eyes from my stressed fiancé, I take in the whole view. I can see straight through the open curtains into my living room. Brendan has been able to see into my home for God knows how long.
The one place I’ve felt safe for the last four years hasn’t been the sanctuary I thought it was. As usual, Brendan’s managed to make my feelings of safety and freedom nothing but a pretty illusion. I didn’t think my heart could sink any further than it already has in this situation, but this revelation completely knocks the wind out of my sails.
Brendan laughs at my appalled expression, his eyes filling with enjoyment when he sees the situation become clear to me. Even though I know rationally that it's the wrong move, I can't stop myself from losing my temper. Rising to my feet, I swing on my heel to face him.
“What is wrong with you?” I question, pushing him as hard as I can in the chest with both hands. He staggers backward a couple of steps in surprise at my attack. “Why won't you just leave me alone? You need to go away. You’re completely crazy. I’m not yours, and I never will be. I hate you!”
I swing at him, hitting him in the chest and the stomach as I unleash my fears and frustrations. Pulling my right arm back, I punch him as hard as I can in the mouth. Blood bursts from the corner upon impact. I shake my fist out, and swing again.
Five years of fear, anger, and hurt are finally finding the correct outlet.
I’m out of control, and ready to kill him with my bare hands.
I want to hit him, choke him, and humiliate him.
I want him to feel everything he made me feel.
Brendan ducks my follow-up punch and grasps me by the throat, subduing me with little effort. He forces me backward on my tiptoes until my back hits the wall. Then he lifts me until my feet are no longer touching the ground. A sick sense of déjà vu engulfs me as my consciousness recognises the position I’m in.
I scratch at the hand he has around my neck with both of mine; two of my fingernails snap as I try to pull free. Kicking at him with my legs, I attempt to head butt him. I’m fighting for breath, black spots floating through my vision, but I don’t give up. Even lost in my anger, the only thought in my head is that I’m not going to let him hurt me without a fight this time.
He licks the blood from his split lip, before leaning down, and whispering in my ear, “I’ll let you hit me once without punishment, Lainey, because I know I hurt you in the past. Just this once, though. Every time you step out of line from now on, I’m going to punish you or one of your family.”
He licks the shell of my ear before he continues with calm menace. “Is Lachie still catching the bus to practice by himself?”