The memory was so real I could smell the delicious aroma of that small piece of fresh bread, the crust still steaming and making my tummy growl – no, making my tummy beg and plead, and weep and scream out.
I was so lost in the past, my mind only capable of concentrating on the recollection of his face, of his smell and on eyes like the devil that I couldn’t feel my breath and consciousness leaving me with his severe constraint on my throat. Or on James’ other hand sliding up my dress, the trace of his fingers crawling up to my hips and twisting around the edge of my knickers.
‘Beg, Kloe. BEG!’
“Please!” I cried out, my eyes only seeing Brian’s cruel sneer and the sound of his vicious snarl. “Please. I…”
Gasping when the weight from his body over me and the constriction on my throat suddenly disappeared, I watched in shock when Ben’s fist connected with James’ face. He went down straight away, his body hitting the pantry door and sending him flying on his back onto the kitchen door.
“Kloe?”
I was gasping for breath, attempting to fill my empty lungs too quickly. Ben scooped me up, climbing over James’ unconscious body, and lowered me into a kitchen chair. Kneeling before me, he gently lowered my head between my open knees. “Breathe, baby. Come on.”
I sucked at air like a fish out of water, my lungs whistling as if thanking me verbally for the sudden rush of oxygen. My chest rattled as each gulp burnt my bruised throat.
“That’s it. Shh,” Ben encouraged as his hand slid up and down my back slowly. “That’s it, good girl.”
The room spun when I lifted my head. Ben’s smile comforted me, his face making me feel safe, just as it always had.
“What are you doing here?”
He looked affronted for a moment, a tight wince catching his easy expression and hardening it. “I brought over the rest of your stuff. Figured you might need it.”
“Thanks.” I smiled, trying to give him an apology with my eyes. I knew I was being a bitch but every time I looked at him all I saw was him and Sarah fucking.
The reality of what had just happened suddenly hit me and a sob bounced up my throat the same time as I tried to gulp at more air. The effect of that wasn’t good, but Ben managed to jump to the side when vomit hurled from me, everything I’d managed to eat in the last thirty minutes now a useless, wasted heap of food I could never get back again.
Ben winced, looking at it then at the melted chocolate in my hand. Frowning, he stood and walked into the pantry.
“Jesus.” The word was spoken quietly, but I heard the volume of disgust in it.
I couldn’t look at his face when he stood staring at me from the pantry doorway.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice broken.
“No you’re not, Kloe. Or you wouldn’t do this.”
“It’s… it’s not that easy. Not for you Ben. You don’t… you don’t know. You couldn’t ever know.”
“Then tell me. YOU TELL ME!” he cried, his fists clenching hard by his sides. “Make me understand.”
Shaking my head as dry tears rolled from me, I shot up, flinging my hand over my mouth as my stomach forced out the fear and the pain from inside me. Ben didn’t follow me when I made a run for the bathroom. But the look of disgust in his eyes haunted my broken heart all night.
When I emerged an hour later, the party still in full swing, people too drunk to know what had happened to their host sixty minutes ago, Ben and James had gone.
And I walked back into the pantry.
16 cans of spaghetti hoops.
21 cereal bars.
28 tins of marrowfat peas.
38 gravy cubes….
“‘CAN I HAVE THE RED ball?’ Biff asked Chip. Chip… pic…picked up….”
I couldn’t hold back my huge smile as I listened to Anderson reading from where I stood in the shadows, trying to stay out of sight so I didn’t interrupt him.
As if he sensed me, he stopped and turned towards me. “Kloe.” His smile was as large as mine.
I’d called in sick for three days and it was my first day back. I still wasn’t sure what I was going to say to James. I had tried to bury it with all the rest of the shit in my head, just put it down to him being pissed, yet that didn’t help my nerves when I walked into Seven Oaks that morning.
“You came back,” he added quietly, almost as if he was telling himself that.
“Of course I did. I will always come back.”
Placing my bag down on the side, Margaret, Anderson’s tutor, gave me a smile and packed up her things, leaving us alone.
“You promise?” Anderson asked. He wore a frown as he waited for my answer, his eyes nervous but hard while he watched me slip my coat off.
“I promise,” I confirmed with a firm nod as I turned to hang my coat onto the hook beside his door.
I sucked in a quick breath when I was suddenly spun around. Anderson’s sharp, angry eyes blazed into mine when he suddenly trapped me against the wall. Every nerve ending in my body shot to attention, his unique scent of sage body wash he had chosen out of our supplies and his morning minty breath assaulting my senses. My heart rate peaked with both adrenaline and fear, and my legs wobbled with panic.
He appeared to be struggling with his emotions, his jaw trembling as his head shook from side to side. His beautiful green eyes swirled with rage, the tiny blue flecks glinting with warning as a wild snarl rattled in his heaving chest.
“And..Anderson?” My voice was breathless, shock making it that little bit higher than usual.
His stare slowly moved from my eyes, travelling down my face and coming to an abrupt stop on my neck. Like a reflection of his eyes, his hand moved upwards and very gently he trailed his fingers over my throat. The touch sent a ripple of goose bumps skittling across my skin, my breath deciding it didn’t like its chances and ricocheting straight back down my throat.
Shit!
“It’s okay, Anderson,” I stammered quickly, reaching up to put my hand over his.
His teeth sank into his bottom lip, the flesh popping under the sheer pressure of his fury. “Who did this?”
“It’s okay,” I tried again. I should have worn a damn scarf. I was stupid!
He shook his head wildly. “No.”
“I just….” Shit. Think! “Uhh.” I laughed. “Walking Dave. He has this ball on a rope.” I rolled my eyes dramatically. “Threw the thing and it got caught on my wrist. Flung back at me and wrapped itself around my bloody neck.”
His furious expression didn’t ease with my lie, the tangle of emotions he was feeling bursting in his eyes and in his trembling body. Yet, conflicting, he softly traced each bruise on my neck with the back of his fingers, his eyes tracking his movements as he studied the purple skin. His touch sent heat through me, scorching every part of me that he stroked. Breathing became difficult, each raspy breath coming in sharp pants as my heart clattered against my ribcage.
Another growl escaped him but this time it was with a completely different tone. The aggression was still there, but the rage and the anger were gone. Instead, there was a hunger, a desire that raged like a storm across his face.
His chest pressed against mine when his breaths came in perfect sync with my own, each quick, short but loud gasp for air a recital that echoed around us in rhythmic perfection.