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Marcus

I watched her break right in front of me.

Her ‘ I can do this ’ facade cracked with every press on the laptop, every picture and video flashing in front of her face.

Her eyes darted around the screen so fast. I knew exactly what she was looking at.

I saw the fucked up shit her ‘mother’ did as she grew up.

How she used her to supply her own drug addiction, supplying men with photos and videos.

But when she saw the money was coming in fast and by the plenty, she let them star in their own videos.

I did my digging into every single one of her files after Hunter and I uncovered the shit-show of her past.

I found everything I could on the fucked up woman that was her ‘birth mother’.

Her name was Nora Anderson and she had Elliott when she was all but seventeen years old.

Her parents kicked her out of the house when they found out and forced her to live with her boyfriend, Elliott's father.

His name was David Smith and he looked just about as bland as his name sounded.

He was, you guessed it, way older than Nora.

A whopping ten years older to be precise.

Twenty-six and getting a seventeen year old pregnant.

There were multiple calls to his apartment from concerned neighbors stating they heard screams and yelling inside all of the reports ended the same way, Nora said nothing was wrong or David wasn’t even home.

It was all bullshit.

After Elliott was born, it only got worse. More calls came into the police department which led to David kicking her out when Elliott was only three months old.

Her next address on record was a random guy who eventually got her deep into drugs, and everything for Elliott and her mom went downhill from there, ending with Nora overdosing when Elliott was five years old.

Elliott then bounced around from foster home to foster home until she met the Donovans. The cover up was so seamless, I knew they had to have connections from within the foster system to even be able to pull this off without someone questioning where the fuck Elliott went.

I didn’t feel sorry for Nora Anderson.

Okay, maybe a bit about her being taken advantage of at the age of seventeen, but everything after? Not. A. Chance. She allowed this shit to happen to Elliott. She was the reason Elliott was here, hurting .

It took all of my mental and physical strength to watch her discover the truth, her truth. And I was living it with her all over again.

She must have been so medicated because she didn’t remember it all, or she was so traumatized that her mind let itself forget all of the horrors she endured. Saving her from the pain of remembering.

I remember my past all too well and having to see her watch hers play out in front of me made my own mind spiral into the void I was trying to keep at bay. This moment wasn’t about me, it wasn’t about me that night she woke Hunter and I with her night terrors.

Hunter watched Elliott and I the whole time she looked through the laptop.

He knew exactly what was playing in my mind.

The fucking images and emotions that rattled in my skull for years.

My own ugly demons. My breathing was becoming just as erratic as Elliott’s, and when she looked up from the screen and locked her eyes with mine I nearly crumbled at the pain I saw in them.

It was like looking at myself during one of my episodes.

The look seemed to drag out, a plea trying to escape through her sobs for me to do something, but before I could fully process it, Kameron pulled her towards him.

A mixture of pain and numbness stirred in my chest.

I sped down the hallway and slammed my door hard enough to startle Garbagè from the spot she was laying on the bed.

I don’t know how long I’ve been pacing my room but I kick the bed frame hard and Garbagè lets out a small meow.

“Sorry.” I huff out to her.

It wasn’t her fault her daddy was mentally unstable.

I run my hand through my curls letting them fall back into place as I walk up and down my room, trying to expel the look of despair Elliott gave me.

The door opens up beside me, “Get. Out.” I clip out. I didn’t bother to look at who it was, it doesn't matter.

“Hey, hey.” Hunter comes up wrapping his arm around me, pulling me closer.

“I don’t need this,” I push back at him.

“You are triggered, Marcus. Don’t be stubborn. I know you and I’m here for you.”

“She needs you more.” I scoff, not making eye contact with him.

He didn’t need to be here. I’ve had so many anxiety attacks like this, I can handle this myself.

“Stop. It.” He grabs the back of my neck and pulls me in with more force. This time he holds his grip on me, not allowing me to break the embrace as I hit his chest with my fists, trying to break free.

“I’m fine.” My voice betrays me as it cracks from the constriction in my throat. I attempt to swallow the burn down but my airway closes even further.

“You aren’t and that’s okay. I am here. Let it out. ”

“St-op being so nice!” I scream.

“Shhh, I’m here.” He whispers, letting his fingers caress my scalp.

A sob breaks free and I can no longer contain these feelings. I don’t know if it’s with relief or despair but I let them flow.