~ TRIGGER WARNING⚠︎:
This chapter contains themes of domestic abuse, violence, and emotional trauma. Reader discretion is advised. If you or someone you know is experiencing domestic abuse, please reach out to a helpline or seek professional help. ~

DESIRÉE || BECAUSE OF HIM.

"Where are you coming from this late?" his deep voice startled me, his tone laced with suspicion.

I slammed the door shut, turning to Mark with a heavy sigh. "I'm not ready for this, Mark," I mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant as I trudged towards the kitchen. "Not today," I added, my voice barely audible.

He followed me, and as I fumbled with the fridge door, pretending to search for a late-night snack, he approached me, scoffing. "What? Because it would ruin your perfect day with whichever asshole you were with?"

Anger surged through me, and I slammed the fridge door shut with more force than I intended. "I moved all the way from California to attend LSU because of you! To a whole different state because of you! I chose you over my dream college since fifth grade! Left my family of two that I love so much just to spend time with you, Mark!. Do you think I'd do any of this just to be disloyal at the very last minute?!"

"Who said you could raise your voice at me like that?!" he grabbed me by the wrist and tightened his grip, pain shooting through my arm. It was much more painful than last time.  "Answer my goddamn question! It's 10:45 pm. Where the hell have you been all day?!"

I winced. "I was at Abigail's," I mumbled.

"And why didn't you answer any of my calls?"

My words choked out. His piercing gaze bore into me, and I felt a wave of nausea wash over me. As he launched into a tirade, his words blurring together into a series of accusations, I tuned him out, my mind drifting away.

How had it come down to this? Where had I gone wrong? All I'd ever done was love Mark, and he seemed so perfect at first. He was supposed to be perfect for me. I put his needs before mine, and I hadn't thought twice. I hadn't thought twice about making him my first time. I hadn't thought twice about moving out of my comfort zone and pathetically fighting with another girl just to keep him. I hadn't thought twice about a lot of things when it'd come to Mark. Yet he hadn't thought twice about hurting me in return. He'd changed so quickly. He'd changed for the worse, and I was done.

"I'm moving out," I said when he finally let go of my wrist, my heart pounding in my chest as I walked away before he layed another finger on me.

"What did you say?"

"Abigail's roommate is studying abroad, and she's looking for a new roommate. I'm moving in with her. I'll pack up tonight and leave early tomorrow morning."

"Desirée..." he began, but I cut him off.

"I can't do this anymore, Mark," I said, my voice firm. "I'm done. I'm done putting up with your... your shit." Shit sounded better than abuse at the time.

"Desirée," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Don't you think you're overreacting?"

"Overreacting?!" I exploded. "I'm overreacting?! Look around you, Mark. Look at the mess around you! Would it kill you to clean up after yourself once in a while? You're constantly tracking me. You want to know where I'm headed, why I'm headed there, what I'll be doing while I'm there, and the exact time I'll be arriving! And you stalk me on campus, too. Mark, you're frustrating me! It's exhausting having to deal with your constant insecurity. You're such a handful! No wonder your parents couldn't stand you!"

*smack!*

A sharp pain shot across my face.

He'd slapped me hard. The world spun, and then everything went dark.

I don't know how long I was out. When I woke up, my cheek and head throbbed as I tasted blood in my mouth.

I tried to reach up to touch my face, but I couldn't move. My vision was blurry, but it slowly cleared, revealing a horrifying sight. I was tied up, bound tightly by ropes that dug into my skin. And I wasn't in Mark's apartment anymore.

I was in a dingy, rundown apartment. The walls were cracked and peeling, and most of the furniture was covered in white sheets. How did I get here?

The door creaked open, and in walked Mark, flanked by a taller, more imposing figure.

"Why am I tied up?" I demanded, struggling against the ropes.

"Relax," he said, his voice dripping with false sympathy. His fingers brushed against my cheek.

"Come here, Alan," he called to the other guy, a younger, more timid-looking guy. "Look at this bitch, Alan. Study her carefully."

The younger man spared me a quick glance and looked away. Mark's jaw clenched, pulling the guy by his hair. "Look. At. Her!"

He was forced to do it. His deep, green eyes were bloodshot and puffy, brimming with threatening tears as he glared at me.

"W-what about her?"

"Like everyone else, she doesn't appreciate me, Alan. I really thought she was different, you know. That I'd finally found the right one." Me too. "And after everything I've done for her, she still calls me worthless."

"You haven't done shit for me," I thought to myself, but I knew better than to say it out loud. "I never called you worthless, Mark, and I never will. I love you, Mark. I've always loved you."

"I want you to ... beat her up, Alan."

"What?!" Alan and I exclaimed in sync.

"Are you out of your mind, Mark?!" I yelled.

"No, Cousin Mark. I won't do it," Alan protested, his voice firm.

Mark chuckled darkly and pulled out a small rubber packet. It was definitely crack, and Alan was probably another crazed addict who would do anything to satisfy their addiction.

Oh Lord.

Alan's demeanor changed dramatically. His breathing became heavy, and his fists clenched tightly.

"I told you, Mark. I'm done doing your dirty work. I'm not touching her, or anyone for your sake ever again."

Mark landed a powerful punch to Alan's gut and he doubled over, clutching his stomach. He groaned in pain, his body wracked with spasms.

"Either you do it..." Mark paused, his eyes locked onto mine. "Or I will. You decide who deserves her, Alan." He grabbed him by his hair and yanked him to his feet.

My heart pounded in my chest. I prayed for a miracle, a way out of this nightmare.

Alan stood up, his eyes bloodshot and filled with fear. He approached me, his gaze fixed on mine. I pleaded with him silently, hoping he would find the strength to resist.

Mark watched, unfazed, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Please..." I whispered.

A stinging slap landed on my left cheek, a painful reminder of Mark's earlier assault. Alan's slap, though less forceful, still stung. Another slap followed, this one harder than the first. Tears streamed down my face as I endured the third blow. Mark finally ordered Alan to stop.

"You're pathetic, Alan," he sneered. "You know that?"

Alan remained silent.

"Fine, I'll do it myself," Mark growled as he pushed Alan aside. "And I'll deal with you later."

Mark struck me three times, then grabbed my throat and squeezed it tighter as my vision blurred. "All I ever wanted was love!" he screamed. "Why can't I have that? Is something wrong with me?!"

"Hey, that's enough!" a voice shouted.
Through my fading vision, I saw Alan being shoved to the ground. He scrambled to his feet and fled the room.

"Desirée?" Although I was one toe closer to death, I knew I wasn't hallucinating Mark's softened voice. It was that moment again where he'd come back to his senses after hurting me. The ropes binding me loosened. I fell to the ground, my body heavy and unresponsive. In the fading light, I heard Mark's pained yelp as he too was knocked to the ground.

"Hey, hey, stay with me. I'm getting you out of here," a voice whispered. I was lifted and carried away, the world a blur.

Sirens wailed in the distance. I drifted in and out of consciousness, the world a hazy dream.

I felt myself being gently placed on the ground. "I can't stay here with you." The person left me.

The sirens grew louder and more footsteps approached, and then, total darkness.

"Is she dead?"