Page 3 of Stealing His Cupcake (Stockholm Syndrome for the Win #2)

Amy

Noise from the front door jolts me awake and I squint around in confusion.

It’s still dark and my eyes are gritty from all the tears I’ve shed as I cried myself into an uneasy sleep.

Pain shoots through my neck as I lift my head.

I fell asleep curled up on the floor by the door, hoping Craig would change his mind and come back.

Muffled cursing and scraping follow, as if someone is trying to unlock the door but keeps missing the keyhole. I spring to my feet so fast my head spins with a sudden bout of vertigo. Could Craig be back?

“Fucking bitch,” I hear just before the door opens. The weight on my chest lifts. Craig is back. He’s drunk and angry, but he came back to me. That’s what’s important.

Steadying himself against the wall, Craig looks at me. “Ah, there you are. My girlfriend .”

I don’t like his sarcastic tone but now is not the time to argue with him. “Yes, your girlfriend. I’m so happy you’re here. ”

“You should be, babe,” he drawls. “You turned me down earlier, but I’m generous enough to give you a second chance. B—” He burps loudly. “Bedroom. Now.”

Seeing him barely able to cross the living room without bumping into the table, I doubt he’ll be able to do anything other than pass out in the bed. I speak before thinking. “Maybe we should just sleep? You clearly need to—”

“You think I can’t get hard after one or two beers?!” Craig shouts. He’s clearly had more than two, but I don’t point it out. “I manage to get hard every time I’m with you,” he continues, regarding me with a mean sneer, “even though you’re a fat, ugly bitch.”

More tears well up but I don’t argue because he’s not wrong. I’m not pretty and my clothes don’t come from the thinner side of the “plus sized” shelf, either. “Please, let’s just go to bed,” I whisper. “You’ll sleep this off and everything will be fine again.”

His hand moves faster than I considered possible in his inebriated state. My head snaps to the side as his palm lands on my cheek, confusion registering before the pain arrives.

He hit me. He’s never hit me before. There was that time I was too tired after a double shift at work and tried to say no to sex and he got furious, but he didn’t hit me.

My hand flies to rub my stinging cheek as I look at Craig in shock. Instead of looking remorseful, he’s smirking. “Should ‘ave done that sooner,” he slurs. “Shut you up nicely, didn’t it?”

I stare at him in disbelief. All of my instincts are screaming at me to ignore the slap. He didn’t mean it. He’s drunk and he’ll probably regret it tomorrow. But…

He hit me!

Memories of Kayla urging me to stand up for myself and define boundaries flash through my mind.

She said Craig was abusive and that I needed to leave before things got worse, but surely this isn’t that.

It was just one slap. I can handle a slap.

After all, when my mother wasn’t passed out from whatever shit she shot up her veins, she slapped me around plenty when I was a kid.

Craig didn’t mean it and he will surely apologize for it once he sobers up, but perhaps setting some boundaries isn’t such a bad idea.

“That…that really hurt,” I say, wishing my voice wouldn’t tremble. “I don’t care how drunk you are, Craig. You can’t hit me. That is not okay.”

“I can’t, huh?”

This time, I dodge the hit by hastily stepping back. Nearly losing his balance, Craig stumbles after me and grabs my hair. The stench of liquor envelops me as he leans closer. “Please, stop,” I whimper. “This is not you, Craig. We-we need to set up some boundaries. Kayla said—”

I realize my mistake even as the words leave my mouth.

Craig despises Kayla. He strictly forbade me from talking to her, which was the only one of his wishes I ever disobeyed.

Kayla is like a sister to me and I couldn’t simply stop seeing her, even if Craig didn’t like it.

I just did it in secret. But now that secret is out and Craig is rightfully furious.

“Kayla, huh?” His voice is deceptively calm but the painful grip on my hair betrays his anger.

“You’ve been talking to that meddling bitch again?

Even after I told you not to? Seriously, babe , can’t you do anything right?

” The foul stench from his mouth envelops me as he scoffs.

“Alright, humor me. What did perfect Kayla tell you to do? Did she encourage you to sleep around?”

“I’m not sleeping around!” I cry out when his grip tightens even further. “She just told me to set boundaries. Please, Craig.”

With Craig still gripping my hair, I can’t avoid the slap this time.

My ear rings and I feel my face swelling where Craig’s hand touched my skin.

He’s a big man with big hands and, as a professional football player, he’s also strong.

I always liked that he could pick me up and carry me to bed when he was feeling romantic.

Right now, I’m far less appreciative of that strength.

“How’s this for boundaries?” he asks before slapping me again. Then he yanks on my hair, sending me tumbling to the floor. My head hits the edge of the coffee table and pain explodes in my temple. I curl up on the floor, fighting the sudden urge to vomit.

A pair of boots appear in my blurred field of vision. One nudges my shoulder. “Useless bitch,” Craig spits out. “I never want to see your fat, ugly mug again.”

When the spinning finally stops, I look around and realize I’m alone.

He left. Again. Left when I was hurt and…

bleeding? I touch my temple, my fingers coming back wet and sticky.

Dull throbbing fills my head and my face feels misshapen, the skin drawn tight over the swollen parts.

I try standing up but my limbs refuse to cooperate.

That’s not good, is it?

I have no one to ask. I’m alone. Completely alone. That thought pierces deeper than the throbbing in my head. I can’t be alone. I don’t want to be alone.

There’s only one person who has never abandoned me, no matter how mean I’ve been to her.

Kayla. I shouldn’t bother her. She has a new job, a new life far away from here, but I don’t have anyone else.

I don’t want to call Craig. I’m sure he’ll apologize later but he hit me.

It’ll take more than an apology for that.

My phone is on the couch. As I cautiously crawl toward it, my stupid mind replays all the nasty things Craig said to me. “He didn’t mean it,” I tell myself. “He didn’t.” But what if he did? What if Kayla was right?

The phone rings so long I squint at the screen to check the time. 2 a.m. No wonder Kayla isn’t picking up. Damn, I’ll wake her up and she’ll get mad at me and then she’ll leave too and I won’t have anyone at all.

I’m just about to hang up when Kayla’s voice comes through the receiver. “Amy, what’s wrong?”

I squeeze my eyes shut, swallowing around the lump in my throat, but a choked sound still breaks out. What’s wrong? “Everything. I—He—” I can’t bring myself to say it. If I say it out loud, it will make what happened real and I don’t want it to be real.

“Amy?” Kayla sounds panicked. I have to tell her something .

“He hit me,” I whisper.

“What?!” Kayla’s scream makes me wince as the throbbing in my head grows more incessant. “That fucking asshole!”

“He didn’t mean it, Kay. I’m sure he—”

“No,” Kayla interrupts me in her best authoritative social worker tone. “No. Listen, Ames, listen! You need to call the police.”

The police? “But that would get Craig in trouble.”

“I know it gets Craig in trouble. That’s the whole point!”

I know Kayla never liked Craig but involving the police?

That feels too extreme. It was only a couple of slaps.

I’m sure he didn’t mean to slam me into that coffee table.

That was an accident. I can’t get him in trouble with the police for that.

“I can’t call the police. I’m sure he won’t do it again. We just need to talk and—”

“No, Amy. He hit you once. He’s going to do it again.”

“It was just a slap. It wasn’t his fault that I hit my head.”

Kayla gasps. “Your head? God, Ames, you need to go to a hospital. No, seriously. Head wounds are no joke. Look…” She pauses for a moment, then continues with more determination. “I’m coming over.”

“From Bluebell Springs? It’s too far to drive. Seriously, Kayla, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

“No, it’s not too far,” Kayla replies with determination. I’ve known her long enough to recognize that arguments are pointless when she sounds like this. “I’ll be at your place in a few hours but right now, you have to call the police. Do you understand me? Amy, please.”

“I-I can’t. I can’t call the police. Craig’s coach already hates him and if Craig gets into trouble with the police, then he’ll bench him and then…” Craig would be angry with me, and he’d be right. “He didn’t mean it. I love him, Kayla. I can’t do this to him.”

“I know, Amy.” Kayla’s voice is soothing now.

“I know you love him. I know he told you he loves you, but this is not love. Listen, everything will be alright. I promise. I’ll be there in like…

five hours. Call the police, pl ease. They’ll take you to the hospital.

Do not stay alone, Amy, do you understand?

Tell the police you’re afraid he might come back and—”

“But I want him to come back!” I shout even though it makes the pounding headache worse. “I want him here. He’ll apologize and everything will be alright.”

“NO!” I startle at Kayla’s shout. She never yells at me, no matter how frustrated with me she is. “Of course he will apologize,” Kayla continues in a slightly calmer tone. “But he will do it again, Amy. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but he will do it. Trust me, please. Please, Amy.”

I don’t want to acknowledge her words but the pain ricocheting through my skull makes them real. What if Craig does this again? Even if he loves me, this is not okay, is it?

“I’m coming,” Kayla promises before hanging up.

Kayla is coming. We might be the same age, but Kayla has always been like a big sister to me.

She’ll fix this. I don’t know how, but she’s the smart one.

The beautiful one. The one with a college degree and a successful career.

If I didn’t love her, I would have hated how perfect she is compared to me, but I can’t because she’s also the sweetest person under the sun.

If I was being petty, I could say that the only area I beat Kayla in was being in a happy relationship when her boyfriend had cheated on her, but even that’s not true anymore.

What Craig and I have is anything but a happy relationship.

Even before tonight, it wasn’t easy. I once lost a job when Craig got irrationally jealous of my coworker and locked me in my bedroom.

It took me two days to convince him to let me out again.

I thought it was because he loved me so much, but even if it was, was it okay?

Crying only makes my headache worse but I can’t stop. Nothing makes sense anymore. All I know is that I’m alone. All alone. And it hurts more than my banged up head.