Page 9 of Loving Trent (Love in the Bootheel #5)

Five

SHAWN

Small particles of glass fall on the back of my head as I cower against the wall.

Tears burn my eyes, but letting them fall feels like giving in.

Shame and embarrassment burn inside my chest, each hotter than the other.

Exhaustion plagues more than just my bones; it’s buried deep in the recesses of my mind.

This needs to stop. This has to stop. I need to walk, run, crawl on my hands and knees away from this situation.

The same situation that I’ve found myself in over and over again.

It’s unhealthy, damaging, and something that I shouldn’t be allowing to happen.

But that’s the issue, the person I am right now isn’t me. It’s the version of myself that I’ve allowed others to put me in. I’m not a person who wraps their arms around their middle as their head is tucked into their chest, letting warm wine drip onto their backs off a wall. Or I used not to be.

“You’re not even listening to me anymore,” Steven, my current boyfriend, yells, his voice echoing through my empty apartment.

He’s right, I'm not listening to him. Instead, I’m wondering if the people living below me can hear him.

God, I hope not. More heat fills my face at the thought of having to face the normal, in love, married couple after they heard all of this.

Straightening up from my crouch, my hands covering my head, and tears threatening to fall.

I try not to focus on the shattered glass or the red liquid running down the wall.

Instead, my gaze snags on the man standing across the room from me as his features melt into a deformed mix of all my exes who put me in the same position.

All the same questions I’ve asked myself before rush through me, and once again, there are no answers in sight.

Why am I still with him?

Why am I so pathetic?

What’s wrong with me?

Am I not lovable?

“I am listening. I’m sorry, Steven,” I say, my voice trembling.

I grit my teeth, hating that stupid trembling.

I’m so sick of having to apologize for things that shouldn’t be a big deal.

Getting told how awful you are and how nothing you do is right takes a toll on your self-worth.

I’m not sure I could find my self-worth if it were a ten-foot-tall gorilla staring right at me.

“I wouldn’t have to yell at you if you didn’t act like such an asshole all the time. This…” Steven sweeps his arms out, motioning to the disaster of my once clean apartment. “Is all your fault.”

Eyes that were once an inviting and warm deep blue have now turned cold and haunting. Gone is the love that would shine so brightly that it felt like staring straight into the sun. “Steven, I’m sorry I missed date night, but?—”

His blue eyes darken with rage. Rage that I’ve seen more of over the last month than the affection that had been there the first two months of our relationship.

In a flash, he moves across the apartment, shoving my back against the sticky wall.

The sound my head makes as it bounces off the wall echoes.

Steven’s hand wraps around my throat, cutting off my air as a rising sea of panic threatens to overwhelm me.

“I’m so sick of the fucking lies that are coming out of your mouth.”

“I… I’m not…. lying,” I say, using up the little oxygen I had in my lungs.

Instantly, I know that I’ve said the wrong thing.

His hand tightens around my neck, and his other comes up in an instant.

The sound of his hand meeting my face is instantly cut off by the ringing in my ear.

A fire burns across my left cheek, and the dam holding my tears back breaks.

Hands that are curled into Steven's shirt fall limply to my side.

The sad thing is, I’m bigger than he is.

Both in height and muscle strength, but I don’t know what to do.

I don’t want to put my hands on him, not like that.

I have no problem knocking someone out when they mess with my family, but I can’t find it in me to protect myself.

I would never hurt anyone I cared about.

I just want him to go and leave me alone.

I don’t want to keep doing this. Constantly having to worry about whether I’ll upset him or what he’ll do.

I don’t deserve this, and I’m done putting up with it.

An image of my twin sister forms as if she is a ghost and her soft voice echoes in my head, cutting through the sound of my racing pulse. “One day, I woke up, looked at myself in the mirror, and for the first time knew I deserved better.”

Liquid steel runs down my back for the first time, fortifying it. My blood becomes lava, burning me up from the inside out. My hand wraps around Steven’s in a tight grip as I pull it away from my neck. My lungs burn, but I rejoice the moment I’m finally able to suck in a breath of fresh air.

“Don’t ever put your hands on me again,” I growl and shove him back.

Steven’s eyes widen, and fear trickles into them.

Instantly, guilt invades my system, and for a second, I let it have free rein, but then I look to my left.

My gaze lands on the mirror hanging on the wall—a present from my mother—and I see Steven’s handprint on my face, the red marks on my neck, and the bruise peeking out of my torn shirt.

A bruise I got two days ago when he punched me in the chest. Anger burns hot, eating up all that guilt. Fuck this.

“Shawn.” Now, it’s his voice that shakes and trembles, not mine.

I hold up my hand, but don’t move closer.

Keeping my gaze on the mirror so as not to lose my strength, I say, “No, you have spoken plenty tonight. Now it’s time for you to fucking listen.

I’m done with your shit. With your physical and emotional abuse.

I’m over being a coward. Too afraid of being alone to kick your ass to the curb.

I deserve better than you. Better than someone who belittles everyone when he doesn’t get his way.

Someone who slaps, punches, and even kicks me when they feel like it.

I thought you were different, but you’re not.

Want to talk about lies, Steven? How many lies did you tell me in the beginning, huh? ”

His mouth opens and shuts, but I just continue.

“You said you were different from the other guys I’ve been with.

You promised me that you would never treat me like they did.

You swore you would never do this,” I throw my hands out, motioning to the destruction around us, and then motion to my face.

“You said you understood my busy schedule and that it wouldn’t become a problem. And I believed you.”

I groan out in frustration and exhaustion.

I’m so tired of having the same exact fight with everyone I date because it always comes back to the same single thing.

I’m a busy person. I’m running two businesses and trying to get a third off the ground, but I try to make time.

I just can’t spend all my time going to bars or watching mindless movies on the couch.

Steven said he was different, that he understood, and he was just as busy as I was.

But yet here we are, because I missed one date night.

One out of countless.

“I’d apologize for the fact that I had a work emergency tonight and couldn’t get away, but I’m over this.

” My eyes finally glance away from the mirror to take in the man that I love.

My heart doesn’t react at the sight of him anymore, my eyes don’t absorb his features, and best of all, love doesn’t punch me in the gut.

All that’s left is pure, raw hatred. “I’m done being your punching bag literally and figuratively. ”

Steven’s face turns a deeper shade of red, and before my eyes blink, he picks up the glass that I set out for myself and throws it.

I don’t flinch or duck this time. It shatters right beside my face.

Another sting flashes through my cheek, but I still don’t move.

“You didn’t even have the decency to call or text me to tell me what was happening.

I sat there with everyone staring at me like I was some kind of loser waiting for you.

All the rumors about you are true. You’re nothing but a selfish asshole. ”

Reaching up, I’m positive that I’m going to feel a piece of glass sticking out of my cheek, but all I feel is hot, wet, sticky blood.

The rage boiling my blood begs me to get my own licks in.

But everything else inside me just wants Steven to leave.

A small joy is felt as I step forward and Steven takes a step back.

Wrapping my hands in the nice, expensive leather jacket I bought him, I throw it in his direction and say, “Get the fuck out of my apartment and don’t come back. We’re over.”

“This isn’t over,” he says, holding his jacket to his chest as he storms to the door and finally leaves. The threat in his voice is clear, but right now I don’t care.

I stand still as a statue, taking a few minutes to collect myself and breathe.

I don’t know why I continue to attract these types of guys.

The ones that think they can control everything about my life, who belittle me with their words, resort to violence when they feel like it, and make me feel so fucking low.

I mean, I am a busy person, but that’s because I’m focused on my goal.

However, I don’t think I’m a bad guy. I’m just trying to keep my businesses afloat and make a name for myself in my hometown.

Is this karma for how I acted when I was a stupid teenager? Maybe. I made a lot of mistakes back then. Mistakes that cost someone close to me to be hurt.

My little sister.

I knew I was different from the other boys I hung out with by the time I turned ten.

They would look at girls on TV, in magazines, and in our classrooms and feel desire, but not me.

Instead, I had the biggest crush on Johnny Deep.

Of course, it scared me, and I hid it from everyone.

I thought if I pushed the feelings away, they would disappear forever, but I was wrong.

They got stronger, and soon, I found myself fantasizing about someone whom I should have never thought of that way.

My best friend, Zak. Then, fantasizing about him turned into falling in love with him.

There was only one massive problem, well, two.

Zak was straight and falling in love with my twin sister, Sammy.

They thought they were sneaky, but I saw how they looked at each other.

It was the same look I would see reflected in the mirror when I found myself thinking about him.

I would see the slight brush of their fingers when they crossed paths in the hallway.

I’m ashamed to say that I didn’t take it well.

I felt betrayed by Sammy. My inability to get over Zak pissed me off.

So, in the end, my teenage heart thought the best thing to do was to hurt them.

I became an asshole. I would go out of my way to fight with her and him.

I yelled cruel words at Sammy because I knew it would hurt her more than him.

In the end, I pushed them both far away from me.

All because I couldn’t handle the amount of jealousy that was consuming me whole.

As a grown adult, I now know that my behavior was wrong.

But at eighteen, I only wanted Zak to look at me with love, not her.

Of course, you can’t stop fate, so they eventually got together behind my back.

But even so, I caused their downfall in the end.

Zak pushed Sammy away just like I did. But that didn’t fix my issues because Zak was straight and didn’t magically start wanting me overnight.

Instead, he withdrew into himself. Still loving Sammy for six years.

All the while, my beautiful, full-of-life, amazing little sister was living a life of pure torture.

We almost lost her for good when she was pushed by the two men in her life who should have protected her into the arms of the devil himself.

Someone who took advantage of her and abused her in the worst ways possible.

If I could create a time machine and go back to one time in my life, it would be then.

I would never have reacted like that, and maybe then I would have been able to save her from all the pain.

Even though Zak and Sammy have accepted my apologies and have said they forgive me for being an ass, I decided to never be that version of myself again.

I moved away soon after Sammy’s wedding to the devil and never thought I would be back.

But once I heard Sammy was in trouble, I came running.

After all was said and done, with my sister and niece safe at home, I bought an old factory and had it converted into an apartment building.

I rented out the bottom two floors and kept the top one for myself.

I buried myself in my job as a businessman and promised myself that things would be different.

I would put the people I cared about and who cared about me first, but if all my exes are right, I’ve failed at that.

I really tried with Steven this time.