"Will you just talk to me" I looked at him…waiting. What else was I supposed to do?
"I've been trying to talk to you…but apparently I don't fit into your busy schedule anymore Peyton"
"You spend just as much time at work as I do."
"Yeah but I'm off on the weekends while you're on the phone with you job. Every since this new job you've been too damn busy for…"
"Well I'm here now so will you please"
"I'm trying to talk to you but you're the one doing all the talking. I'm tryna say something and I gotta talk over you. Why can't I get a word in? Why…"
"Will you calm down and just say…"
"See there you go…talking when I'm talking. I wanna talk…I don't wanna listen to you talk. You spend twenty two hours of the day of the fucking phone…I'm tired of hearing you run your mouth."
"Stan I am too tired for this right now…when you're ready to sit down and have an actual conversation about something other then who's talking…you can come find me. Right now I'm exhausted and I'm going to bed, you can argue with yourself for the rest of the night."
"I'm not done…" I turned around and walked out. I got to the stairs before he grabbed my arm. "Don't you ever walk off when I'm talking to you. You do not turn your back to me Peyton." His grip tightened around my wrist and I could feel my hand going numb.
"Fine...I'm sorry…now will you pleas let go." I knew better then to pull away…he wouldn't let go…he would just hold me tighter.
"No because you're going to listen. You're gunna stand here and listen to every damn word I have to say. And don't you dare interrupt me again." He let go of my wrist and I held it in my other hand.
"Okay…I'm listening" I informed him calmly. I saw his hand go up right before he slapped me across the face.
"I said I don't wanna hear a word from you" He went to raise his hand again but I got him first. My fist connected with his jaw and I saw him spit blood from his mouth.
"That's it Stan…I'm done. You will never lay a hand on me again. We're over Stan…finished." I turned and walk up the stairs….that was the last time I was going to let him hit me. I'd let him do it too much already, but I was determined to leave him this time. I don't care if I have to fight him back…I'm not staying with him anymore.
I pulled my suitcase down from the closet in our room and threw it on the floor. I immediately began tossing clothes into it, folding them was the last thing on my mind…I just wanted out at this point.
"What are you doing baby" I didn't turn around, I just kept throwing clothes into the suitcase. I pulled my duffle bag out and stormed into the bathroom. Everything I could find that was mine was tossed in the bag before I zipped it up. "Baby…"
"I am not your baby…I'm leaving" I turned away from him and moved towards my suitcase. I kneeled down in front of it and pushed the top down hard enough for it to close and lock. I grabbed the handle but before I could stand up I felt Stan on his knees behind me. His hand snaked around my waist.
"Come…you know you don't really wanna go anywhere" he lips were on my neck his hands slipping in and out of my shirt
"Stan…" I put my hands on top of his and tried to move them but I couldn't…he was too strong.
"I love you Peyton…you know I do…"
"Stan let go of me." I tried again to move his hands, but this time he moved his hands only to wrap his arms around mine. His hands were back on me but I couldn't move anymore. "Get off of me" I yelled. He grabbed my tighter before picking me up. It felt like every bone in my arms was breaking as he walked over to the bed. He threw my down and my back hit the mattress and he was instantly hovering over me, his lips against my neck and my hands locked in his. "Stop" I hissed in his ear.
"I think you're the one that needs to stop Peyt" My knee went up and hit him hard between the legs. He hissed and mumbled incoherently as he hunched over in pain. I pushed him off of me and got off the bed. I grabbed my suitcase and duffle bag from the floor and moved towards the door.
"It's over" I turned around and walked out of our bedroom. I had reached the downstairs living room before he was walking downstairs after me.
"Come on Peyton." I walked over to the table behind the couch and put my suitcase down to grab my bag. I turned around but before I bent to pick up my suitcase again I saw him on the other side of the couch staring at me. "Why are you doing this?" I looked past him and noticed that all three locks on the door had been fastened.
"Because…I'm done." I stated firmly as I picked up my suitcase. He moved to walk around the couch I walked the other way. He changed direction and so did I. We wound up back on opposite ends at the center of the couch.
"Stop being so damn difficult" he hissed at me. He tried walking around again but we found ourselves in the same position a few seconds later. "Damn it Peyton" he yelled. I flinched at his voice and caught him smiling. That same sadistic looking smile that I've grown to hate and fear over the past few years.
"Stan will you please just let me go"
"I'm sorry I can't do that" I saw him take a few steps back before he ran towards me and jumped over the couch. My eyes got wide as I dropped all my bags and ran. I knew I wouldn't make it out the door and as much as I hated to I ran up the stairs. I could hear him close behind me as I ran into the bathroom and slammed the door, locking it behind me. I back up until I hit the tub as he banged on the door. "Open the goddamn door Peyton…" The banging got louder and I flinched each time I saw the door shake. My breath caught in my throat when the noise stopped and the house got silent. I nearly fell in the tub when I heard the downstairs TV came on. The channels flipped until he stopped on some horror movie, one with a lot of screaming, just loud enough for the people below us to hear it over anything on the second level of the apartment. I prayed I was overanalyzing the situation…that he was just going to give up and sit down there. Ten minutes late I was still in the bathroom, standing with my back against the wall. He had stayed watching the TV and I finally breathed a sigh of relief. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the wall.
"Peyton…" I jumped when I heard his voice and saw the door handle move. "Fine…be that way" he hissed before the banging started again. I stayed frozen in the same position…the bathroom was huge but there was no where for me to go as I watched the door. My breath caught as the door flung open and I watched him smile at me. He slowly walked in and grabbed the door…slamming it shut behind him.
I jolted up with a scream before I began gasping for breath. "Peyton…" I looked around in the dark and finally caught the figure sitting next to me. I could feel my entire body shaking as he reached up and pushed the wet hair out of my face. "Hey…its alright…you're fine now, it was just a bad dream" he smiled at me as his hand cupped my face. "You're okay…" I shook my head as the tears finally began to fall.
"But it wasn't" I whispered as I collapsed into his arms. "I can't go back there" my head fell onto his shoulder and turned into his neck. "I won't"
"Peyton…what are you talking about…you won't go where" he wrapped me in his arms and kissed the top of my head. He moved my head and made me look at him. "Pey...you can talk to me…whatever it is." Despite the dark we managed to lock eyes. "What's going on…where won't you go and why"
"I can't…please…I just can't." I shook my head.
"Its okay…you don't have to…whatever it is…you don't have to worry about it now." He pulled me back into his arms and held me closely. That dream had been a little too vivid for me. That night was the first time he broke my arm. That was also when he started getting more careful about where he hit me and how. I was always able to hide the bruises and he never hit me hard enough in the face to leave a mark that makeup couldn't cover.
"Lucas…"
"Hmm…"
"I'm sorry"
"For what" I could hear the confusion in his voice.
"For putting you through this. I'm sure you have enough to deal with in your own life…you shouldn't be wasting your time taking care of me."
"I'm not wasting my time Peyton. I'm always gunna be here for you no matter. We are friends right" I nodded into chest. "Well that's what friends do…they care about each other…"
"But still…"
"No buts Peyton…that's just the way it is and there're nothing you can do about it so don't cut me off." He laughed lightly but I flinched. "Peyt…please tell me what's going on." I shook my head and then heard him sigh. I still can't tell him and I hate myself for it. I used to be able to tell him anything because I knew he would be there. I even told him about my drug habit in high school…but I can't tell him this.
"I'm sorry" I whispered as the tears streamed down my cheeks and onto his bare chest.
"You have nothing to be sorry for Peyt. Just know that when you're ready to talk I'm here. Doesn't matter what you wanna talk about…even if it's just 'cause you want some company…I'm here."
"I know" I wasn't lying. I knew I could depend on him but I still couldn't talk to him.
