Breaking Free
Trigger Warning: This story contains scenes of domestic violence, and physical and emotional abuse. The main character was in an abusive relationship with her ex-boyfriend, who hurt her both physically and mentally. The story also depicts the main character's struggle to escape from the abuse and find love and healing with another person. If you are sensitive to these topics, please read with caution. If you are experiencing domestic violence or need help, please call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233 or visit their website. You are not alone, and you deserve to be safe and happy.
Chapter 4
CHRIS
Entering the apartment building Bella lived in was like walking into a prison, only there were no bars or guards. Kids ran to the elevator, using their sticky, grubby fingers to hit the up button. Parents rushing to keep up with their little demons. Pathetic. I would never have children. Made sure of it by having a vasectomy.
Despite the unpleasant surroundings, Bella was the only thing that made this place bearable. She was beautiful and smart but not obedient enough for my liking. I was working on it, but she was so damn stubborn. Too fucking independent. I did have some control over her. The only person she talked to from her hometown was her dad. I've heard her lie to him about our relationship.
"Of course, Chris is treating me like a princess."
I grabbed her phone and ended the call.
"Who was that?" I demanded.
"My dad," she said, looking away. "He wanted to know how I was doing."
I scowled over at her, hating she was talking to her father about me.
I slid my hand up her leg, feeling the bandage that covered the cut I had given her. I pressed on it, making her wince. "You like that, don't you?" I whispered in her ear. "You like it when I hurt you."
She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "Please, Chris, stop," she begged. "Please, don't do this."
I pressed harder. She cried out, letting more tears fall.
"You will learn not to disobey me, Bella. I told you not to talk about me with your father. If I find out you talked to him about me again, I will do so much more to you."
I grinned at the memory as I got on the elevator. It was old and rusty, making loud noises as it moved. I hated this place. It was beneath me. But I had to endure it for Bella. She was worth it. No one else was riding up with me, for which I was glad. I didn't want to share the small space with anyone. Hitting the button for the twelfth floor, I leaned back and waited. I wondered what Bella was making me for dinner. All her meals were delicious, not that I ever told her.
The elevator doors slid open, rattling as they disappeared behind the wall. The cream walls of the hallway were as bland as cardboard, offering no comfort or warmth. The only decoration was the plagues next to each door – the apartment numbers. I reached the last door and tried the knob. It was locked but I could hear music on the other side. Raising my fist, I knocked on the door. To my relief, the music cut off. Bella had horrible taste in music. I preferred hardcore rap and heavy metal.
Bella opened the door all smiles. Something was up. She never smiled at me. Fear was usually dominating her face, just as I liked.
Something smelled good. It wasn't long after I entered her apartment, I was sitting at the kitchen table. She placed a square piece of shit in front of me. It mocked me with its cheesy smell and colorful layers.
"What the fuck is this?"
She cringed. "Homemade turkey lasagna. It has zucchini for the vegetable layer," she whispered. "I mixed mozzarella, ricotta, or parmesan cheese together for the middle layer."
I wasn't about to eat it, even though I loved lasagna, and it did look delicious. I shoved the plate away, hard enough that the meal slid partially off the plate and onto the white tablecloth.
My gazed moved up to Bella. The smile disappeared from her face and fear lit her eyes. That's more like it.
I stood and moved to the counter, where the knife block was. Slowly, I pulled out the chef's knife. It glinted in the light.
Looking over at Bella, I found tears in her eyes. I took a step toward her, and she took a step back. She continued moving away from me as I inched closer to her. Soon she was backed into a corner. I crowded her, running the smooth side of the knife from her temple down to her neck.
"I don't know who you talked to or saw today, but I know you did something I told you not to do."
By this time tears were evident on her cheeks.
"I didn't," she said.
A sneer formed on my lips. "Don't lie to me," I whispered. "Your damn smile gave you away."
I slid the knife down her arm, drawing a red line that contrasted with her pale skin. My other hand came up and covered her mouth. The knife was at her thigh. Turning it slightly, I pushed it deep. Not too deep to do any real damage, but enough to draw blood, a lot of blood.
Bella screamed into my hand. I laughed. "I knew you liked me hurting you."
I pulled the knife back, letting it drop to the floor, and moved away from her. She slumped to the floor, a broken doll that had lost its strings. Her eyes found mine. They were filled with shock. She should go get stitches, but I knew she wouldn't. It would be a no-no that would having me punishing her again.
The door slammed behind me as I left. I had hoped she learned by now not to displease me.