Page 80 of June: Jess' Story

“More.” The hand in my hair tightens. The hand gripping my hip grows stronger. “Tell me who’s fucking you.” He slams against me again, rocking the upholstered headboard against the wall.Knock.

“Alex,” I reply.

“Louder.” His voice is commanding and brash as he slams into me harder.Knockgoes the bed.

“Alex!” I say louder. Slam.Knock.Grip tightens.

“One more time,” he says gruffly. Slam.Knock. Hair gets pulled.

“Alex!” I practically scream. Slam.Knock. He lets go of my hair and pounds into me relentlessly. It still feels amazing, but there’s another feeling that starts to come over me, and all of a sudden I want to vomit.Is-Is this for show?My walls are no longer clenching him tight. My toes slowly unfurl.

When I turn my head to look back at him, his eyes are closed.Spear, rightthrough the abdomen.Wind knocked straight from me. Searing pain slices at my insides and after I inhale deeply, I bury my face in the pillow with a cry.

He’s just using me right now.That’sthis feeling. He’s somewhere else and I could be anyone.

Slam.Knock. I feel like dying. My body is only being held up by the hands that are holding my hips.

Slam.Knock. My chest heaves at the pain. He hates me. Still. I’ll always be less-than in his eyes.

Why am I here? I turn to look back once more, hoping he’ll have eyes wide open that see me. That see how much he’s hurting me, but when I look back, his eyes are still clenched.

“Alex,” I say softly, same as my body. There’s nothing taut about this. My body isn’t straining, clenching, racing to the other side like his is. He eases up at my voice. His pace slows, his grip loosens, and he eventually comes to a complete stop.

I stare back down at the pillowcase, tears streaming down my face. “If you’re gonna use me, at least be a man about it and look me in the eyes.” Goosebumps break out all over my body and then he’s pulling out of me.

He practically stumbles out of bed, pushing away from me. Like he was fucking sleepwalking and ended up fucking me instead. (Maybe he was.)

My hips slowly slide down to the bed and my chest heaves with a sob. I pull my pants back on and sit up. But Alex is just standing a few feet back from the bed looking stricken.

“I know you think I’m a shitty person, but what you’re doing is worse,” I say. I slip out of bed, and when my feet hit the soft rug, I have tofight to stay standing after the unrelenting way he was using my body.

I don’t look him in the eyes as I get up and walk to the guest room down the hall. I use the bathroom, then crawl into the bed and cry because I let him use me. I want him more than the pain bothers me. (I know I’m a masochist.) But I can’t do it. I can’t be Amy. I’m not loud when I’m having sex. I don’t need some bro to hear it in the middle of the night. I’m not some show pony you can just buy, which is exactly what he thinks of me, isn’t it?

Well, fuck him.

Fuck this house.

Fuck this town.

Fuck all of it.

I pull out the card that’s for emergencies only and press the purchase button. I wait till six, and then text my old contact, James, to ask if he’ll drive me to the airport after I meet with Britain. I know it’s Thanksgiving and all, but hopefully it’s early enough it doesn’t deter his day.

I don’t want to make a big thing out of this. I want to just slink away as quickly and as tacitly as possible. (Does that make me a coward? Yeah, so what?)

I was in Eden’s room at four, quietly packing her suitcase. I carried it down the steps as silently as possible and put it by the door in the mudroom for when we leave later to go talk to Brit. It sounds shady. It probably is. But I don’t want to see him look at me in the light of day…maybe ever. Every time I start to think about his eyes clenched shut (picturing Amy probably), I want to vomit.

The soreness between my legs physically and emotionally hurts every time I take a step. And I want to take so many steps. Away from this place, away from these people, away from my life…

When Eden wakes up at 7:00, I try my best to get her to go back to sleep. We have a long day ahead of us and the more time I spend in her room, the less time I have to spend out there, potentially running into people I have no desire to see.

By 7:30, there’s no holding her back. She’s hungry, so I take her downstairs to feed her, trying to act as casually as possible, but my body locks up when I find him in the kitchen. Making pancakes.Fucking psychopath.

He looks over and stares at me, almost vacantly. He still doesn’t see me.He never will, Jess.

I strap Eden into the highchair, pour her a bottle of milk, and drop Cheerios on her tray. Still not looking at him, I ask, “I need to change really quick. Would you watch her for just a moment?”

His voice is barely audible, but eventually he says, “Yeah.” I run upstairs quickly and try to think about the best way to do this. But unless I haul down a suitcase which will inevitably draw questions, there’s no way I’m getting any of my clothes or belongings. And honestly, you know what? That's fine.