Page 35 of Piggy

Charlotte

My nerves are shot, I’ve lost weight, I can’t sleep well, and I always feel like shit!

Like right now. I sit on the ambulance, the back doors open, and my whole body is on edge. The instructor just wandered off to another group, but the three of us are prepping for their return.

Matt stretches out his tattooed arm, the ink curling up from his wrist and disappearing beneath his sleeve as he hands me a sterile compress.

I take it, open it, but I’m not focused on our primary survey or secondary injuries.

I’m not even thinking about the backboard we’re supposed to prep for Ashleigh, who’s playing the trauma victim.

“Charlotte?” Matt nudges my forearm, his gloved hand cool on my skin.

“Oh, sorry!” I snap out of it. “Lost my train of thought.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, you’ve been spacey all week. ”

Ashleigh, tiny on the gurney with her platinum pixie and fake contusion makeup, smirks. “It’s a guy, isn’t it? Always is.”

I sigh, hating that people are noticing.

I love Grayson. I really do. But—

Whenever I think about him, I go to dark places. Like that video.

Why did I watch it? I was so stupid. Now all I see is his cruel heart, those evil hands, that look in his eyes, and them . Together.

Ashleigh snaps her fingers. “Earth to Charlotte?”

I slump forward, elbows on my thighs, wrung out and tired of keeping this secret. I might as well have a palm tree growing out of my lungs. If I open my mouth, palm fawns will burst out. But the truth tickles the back of my throat, and although I try to stop them, the words tumble forward.

“My boyfriend is controlling.”

Gosh, that feels good!

Ashleigh sits up fast. “Controlling how?”

Matt takes over the compress application, working on Ashleigh’s “abdomen wound,” but he’s focused on me, nodding me on gently.

If it felt good to say the truth once, maybe twice will feel even better.

“Last week...” My voice cracks. “He said if I didn’t do what he said, or if I asked him to leave, he’d go sleep with his ex.” I lower my voice and mumble, “and he’d make me watch.”

Silence .

I look up.

Ashleigh’s whole face hardens.

Matt and Ashleigh exchange side-glances. His fingers run through his brown hair and he says with a hint of hesitation, “Uh, that’s blackmail.”

Ashleigh crosses her arms. “That’s psychological abuse. Why are you still with him?”

The words hit like blunt trauma — not fatal, but enough to stagger.

It is freeing to open up, but the fact they disapprove so quickly just firms up my doubts about Grayson.

My love story is crumbling around me. And if I am being honest with myself, I am falling out of love with him.

Not completely, just a little each day. Although, every bit of love that dies and breaks off, feels like a piece of me dying, too.

Ugh!

With no peace in sight, nothing to lose, I ramble off more truths.

“He is into dark stuff, too. In the bedroom.”

“What kind?”Ashleigh’s eyes brighten.

“Like...” I inhale in a long breath, then reply, “Spitting. Hair pulling. Slapping—”

“On the ass?” Matt asks.

“Yeah... and face.”

Ashleigh gasps. “He slaps your face?”

With shame, I nod. “He put soap in my mouth, too. He is really strong. I’m heavy, but not to him. And I think Grayson likes hurting me.”

She nearly falls off the gurney. “He what ?”

Matt doesn’t flinch. He just studies me, serious and still. “That’s sadism. And from what you’re describing, he probably watched too much abuse porn.”

I swallow, shaky. “He watched a lot. He even made a video with his ex. She was tied up, humiliated. He shoved her face in a toilet.”

Ashleigh gasps and sits up. “No!”

“Yes.”

Ashleigh shakes her head vigorously. “Oh my word! Porn ruins people. Makes them evil. Especially that type. Want my opinion? He’s psychotic, Charlotte. Game over. Leave ’em.”

Matt’s jaw flexes. “Yep. He is a sexual sadist. They’re demented. You seem way too sweet for a guy like that.”

I blush and nod knowingly as I gaze into those warm brown eyes. Matt always says how sweet I am. It’s like he knows my limits without testing them. Like I’m not meant for that dark stuff.

Why couldn’t I have met Matt first? Fallen in love with him instead. A normal guy with a normal girl.

Ashleigh snaps. “Babes, kick his ass to the curb. You own the house, right?”

“Yeah.”

She throws her hands up. “Then evict the bastard! ”

I cringe. “I don’t know”

“Are you scared?” Matt asks, his palm roaming over my shoulder in a comforting gesture. I peek up at him, easily falling into those deep brown eyes once more. But honestly, Matt is safe, sweet, and yes, probably normal, but I can’t meet his eyes for long.

Because, Grayson.

For all his faults, deep down, the hopeless romantic in me is screaming to shut up. Don’t second guess Grayson. Trust him blindly.

Easier said then done.

“Even if I wasn’t scared of him cheating,” I whisper, “I’m scared of him. Of telling him. He’s... intense.”

“We’ll go with you,” Ashleigh says suddenly, cupping my hands in hers. “When class ends. We’ll tell him together.”

“ Today? ”

“Today.” She nods. “No more waiting around to be mistreated.”

“Uh—”

Matt’s lanky frame slides closer. His side hug is warm, firm, protective. “You shouldn’t have to do it alone.”

This is all moving so fast.

It’s loud.

The commotion of people talking, traffic moving, birds chirping, planes overhead... yet, I am deaf as my gaze lands on Grayson in the distance.

The world stops. He leans on his truck. He’s tired.

I see it in those handsome eyes. He has grease on his forearms, salt on his skin, that sinful smirk pulling at his lips.

His shirt clings to his chest with the sweat of hard work, veins bulging along his arms, and his gaze rakes over me like this is the best part of his day. Seeing me.

My heart flutters with the joy I once held every second of every day, but now it’s sullied by the darkness of knowing the real Grayson.

And now, I’m either about to die or break his heart.

I wince.

What are you doing, Charlotte? If only the right answer was obvious.

Ashleigh and Matt appear, walking along either side of me. Like angels and devils. Shields and saboteurs.

Grayson’s smile vanishes.

He knows something is wrong.