Thank you guys. I do not own Glee or the characters, neither do I own Reaper's Legacy.
Warning: Domestic abuse, disparaging/derogatory remarks, threats of violence/murder etc... Also character death.
MERCEDES
"About time you got back," Shaun said pleasantly, arms crossed over his chest. "Let me guess, you're drunk? Some mother you've turned out to be, Mercedes. You're nothing but a fucking slut, you know that?"
Seeing him hit me like a physical blow...
I mean... If someone had punched me in the stomach, it couldn't have hurt worse.
I couldn't breathe... And I had to grab the wall to stay upright.
That's the thing that nobody tells you as a girl, when they warn you about guys like Shaun.
You hear about women getting abused, but that's such a sterile word for what he did to me.
He didn't abuse me...
He hurt me... Owned me... And trained me...
Then he broke me.
It's like hitting a dog with a rolled-up newspaper... You do it often enough, the dog will cringe whenever it sees the roll.
Obedience becomes instinct, and in that second I felt it all come back to me.
Shaun's bitch... That's all I was.
"You can't be here," I said feebly, wondering how just seeing him could make me feel so weak. "The restraining order says you can't be here. You're supposed to be hundreds of miles away. How did you get in?"
"I picked the lock, you stupid cunt," he replied. "Wringer taught me when we were kids. That...and how to hotwire a car. It's the only fuckin' thing he ever did for me."
Shaun stood and walked over to me, a nasty gleam in his eye.
He'd gotten bigger, I realized. Not taller, of course and not fat, either. But he must've started lifting weights, because those were some serious muscles.
Steroid-sized muscles...
He flexed them as he walked towards me, grinning as he read the fear in my face. He'd always had little-man syndrome.
My brain screamed at me to run, but my body wouldn't obey.
I was strong during the kidnapping... I'd run from Crash... But then I turned around and fought him.
Why didn't I do that now?
I just couldn't. My body wouldn't move.
Instead, I just watched Shaun, terrified, as he came up and cupped my face in his hands, his fingers holding me just a little too tight.
"You're looking good," he said, licking his lips. Then he leaned forward and kissed me.
Not a nice kiss... No, this one was meant to punish.
So I locked my jaw and kept my lips closed until he reached up and grabbed my hair, pulling it back sharply.
"Open your fucking mouth, bitch!"
I obeyed, because I knew pulling my hair was the least of what he could do...
Shaun kissed me for an eternity, his tongue stabbing into mine painfully.
His mouth tasted stale and nasty, like he hadn't brushed his teeth in a year...
I couldn't get any air and tears built up in my eyes.
Finally, he pulled away.
"Is your cunt still as sweet as that mouth?" he asked. I didn't respond and he yanked my hair again. "Answer me, bitch!"
"I don't know," I whimpered.
I should try to knee him... I should fight or kick or bite or something... But seeing him made me feel like a helpless little girl.
And he knew it, too. I could tell by the gleam of satisfaction in his eyes.
He was a bully... How I hadn't recognized it from the start I'll never know, but I could sure as shit see it now.
"I hear you're fucking Wringer again," Shaun whispered, his face turning ugly. "I hear you're sucking his dick all over town, and that you're fucking his whole club, too. Is that true, slut?"
"No," I whimpered. "No, it's not true."
"What's not true?" he asked, his mouth twisting into a smile. "Not true you're fucking Wringer, or not true that you're fucking his club? Because they don't just steal a man's inheritance for shits and giggles, babe. They don't do anything for free. You gotta tell me just how big a whore you are. Otherwise I won't know how much punishment you need."
"I'm not fucking anyone," I said. And he burst out laughing. Seriously laughing...
So hard he actually let me go and used the heel of one hand to press against his eyes, wiping away the tears.
"Let's try this again," he said when he finally stopped. "Who are you fucking? You belong to me, bitch! And if you don't tell me the truth, I'll start breaking fingers."
At that, he reached down and caught my hand between his, gripping my right index finger and bending it sharply backward.
I panicked, wishing I could get myself to think. But my mind was numb, old survival instincts taking over.
Get it over with.
Do what he says.
Maybe he'll show mercy if you're a good girl...
"I had sex with Sam," I said quickly. Then I closed my eyes, bracing for whatever might happen next.
There's no preparing for something like that, though. Not really. But I waited for my bone to snap, so it came as a complete surprise when he punched me in the stomach instead.
I doubled over, gasping for breath.
Holy shit! That hurt.
Shaun burst out laughing.
"You're too fuckin' easy."
Silly of me, I realized, clutching my stomach and praying he'd stop at just one hit. But he never did what I expected him to do...
I couldn't plan... I couldn't get ready... Nothing like that. He was like a tornado... Suddenly there, spewing evil without warning.
His laughter died...
"It was a hell of long drive to get here. I'm tired and hungry," he said. "So you're gonna make me something to eat. Then we'll talk some more about who you're sleeping with. Don't want to leave out any juicy details, do we?"
I dug through the fridge, trying to figure out what to cook him. My stomach ached, although I didn't feel like he'd broken any ribs.
Yet...
We didn't have a lot of food, but I could fix some eggs and toast. He'd always loved breakfast for dinner.
"It was fucking stupid of you to come back to Colorado," Shaun said conversationally. He was sitting at the small table between the living room and kitchen, watching me and picking at his fingernails. "You couldn't just keep your legs shut, could you? I'll never let him have you. Never. I thought I'd made that clear."
I didn't answer. Because no matter what I said, it would set him off.
I remembered that much from before.
Shaun had always liked lecturing me during punishments, and if I didn't listen, the punishment got much, much worse. I just had to hunker down and push through.
Sooner or later he'd get tired or bored and then it would stop.
At least for a while.
I'd never be truly free from him, though... I really thought I could change my life.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
"I've told you a thousand times about Wringer, but you still don't listen," Shaun continued. "You never get it through your head, do you? I guess sluts like you can't control themselves... You need to be trained, like dogs. Bitches. Do you want me to train you?"
I took a deep breath, then let it out, closing my eyes tight. I knew what the next step was. Our little dance was well-choreographed.
"Yes, Shaun," I whispered, feeling my soul tuck down deep inside, hiding from what was coming. If I drew far enough away from reality, it wouldn't hurt as bad when he started really hitting me. "I want you to train me."
"Good girl," he murmured, sounding almost human.
I knelt down and opened the drawer under the oven, looking for something to cook the eggs in. I had a small, non-stick frying pan I usually used. But there was also a large, cast-iron skillet that I'd found when I moved into the apartment.
I'd never cooked with it...cast iron always seemed sort of strange and scary to me.
Hmm...
Why should I be afraid of using a fucking pan?
Because it was different than what I was used to?
But changing how you do anything is difficult...
I could do it, though.
I could use that pan...
Almost as if in a dream, I reached down and picked up the skillet...
How hard would it be?
Harder than a man's fists against your flesh?
Harder than cracked ribs...
Blackened eyes...
Or your baby screaming for an hour because mommy can't get off the floor to pick him up.
Changing how you react to a man hurting you is hard.
But it can be done...
The pan was heavy... Really heavy. My arms were strong, though. I'd been carrying Bray for years... This was nothing in comparison.
I stood up and set the skillet on the stove, reaching over and turning on the burner...
"I think we need to get something clear," Shaun said. He leaned back in his chair, grinning at me, all pleased with himself.
Only seconds had passed as I found the skillet, but everything had changed... I felt my soul uncurling from its hiding place.
"You sent me to jail," he continued. "That was a very, very bad thing to do. I'll admit, it threw me for a while. And I let you get away with it. Then you stole my money, and that's more than a man can take. If you try to fight me, I'll kill you. In fact, I won't just kill you, I'll kill Bray. I never did like that little shit."
Another gut punch...
He hadn't used his fists this time. He didn't need to.
I looked down at the slowly heating skillet...
"Maybe I'll just make him disappear," Shaun muttered. "Just take his little ass and dump him somewhere. You'll never find him again, and you'll always wonder if he's dead or alive. Maybe if you're really good, I'll tell you where the body is for his eighteenth birthday..."
I turned to grab eggs out of the fridge, glancing towards Shaun. He was looking down at one of his hands, forming a fist over and over, flexing the muscles in his arm.
I set the egg carton on the counter... Then I reached for a bowl to mix them in... He liked them scrambled, a mixture of full eggs and egg whites for extra protein.
I started cracking the eggs, the hard white shells looking like little skulls...
They broke open so easily...
I flicked another glance at him. He was still gazing down at his fingers, flexing and fisting.
Getting ready to hit me again...
"I'm gonna fuck you in the ass, I think," he said casually. "Make you beg for it. I've missed that about you, the way you beg."
My chest tightened, but I didn't let myself react to his words. I just picked up a towel and wrapped it around the hot pan's metal handle...
Then I took a deep breath and thought of Bray... Of what his little face would look like after Shaun finished with him...
Nope. Not gonna happen.
'You can do this,' I told myself. And I knew I was right. I could.
So I lifted the pan, took three steps towards Shaun and raised it high, bringing it down on his head with all my strength...
He never saw it coming.
Then I hit him a second time, just to be sure.
And a third.
The smell of scorched meat filled the kitchen.
And I smiled.
SAM
I felt my phone vibrate, and I seriously considered just ignoring it.
It was nearly three thirty in the morning, and the girls had arrived at the Armory an hour ago.
I'd never seen Marge so drunk. She wore a little white veil on her head and a white sash that said 'Bride' across her chest. And she was carrying around some weird electronic vibrating thing like a trophy.
Meg said it was a sex toy, but damned if I could figure out what it was for.
Stud was drunk, too, although not as bad as Marge. He'd carried his bride-to-be off not long after she arrived. They were upstairs now...
That was the last I'd seen of them, although Spirit was trying to convince the girls that they needed to go and rescue Marge.
That kept setting them off cackling like a bunch of damned witches. Go figure.
I pulled out my phone and saw Mercedes' name.
Fuck! Now what?
I was trying to give her space, but it was fucking hard to pretend everything was fine while I waited.
I missed her...
The Devils had taken her away from me for less than a day, but those hours had nearly killed me.
I needed her back...
I needed her back now...
Because I wasn't sure how much more of this I could take.
"Hey, Mercedes," I said, stepping out the door into the night air. It was almost October, but it was still warm out. A perfect Indian summer night.
"Sam," she said, and her voice sounded strange. "Um...I have a problem."
"What is it?"
"I don't think I can tell you over the phone. Would...do you think you could come over? I mean, I know you're at the party... Are you safe to drive, do you think?"
Double fuck!
Something was really wrong. Her voice all but screamed it.
"Yeah, I'm good to drive," I said, and thankfully I was. I hadn't been in the mood to drink. There were too many thoughts running through my head.
I heard her breath catch...
"Should I bring anyone with me?"
"Um...we should probably be discreet," she said slowly. "I'm in some trouble here, Sam... And I don't know what to do."
"Are you hurt?" I asked quickly.
"I don't think so," she replied. "But that's not really the worst of it... Sam, I've done something bad. I think you should come over right now. I need you to tell me what to do. I know I keep asking you to stay out of my life, but I was wrong about that. I can't do this on my own."
"Okay, babe. I'll be right there."
Stay safe!