Fighting for Us - Bella Emy Page 0,17
me harder, he forces me onto him until my mouth is inches from his.
The same mouth that once upon a time used to kiss me so sweetly.
The same mouth that once upon a time used to make me shudder with anticipation right before we’d give ourselves over to one another, becoming one in the middle of the night.
The same mouth that eventually spoke the words saying he no longer loved me and wanted to be with someone else, only months before we were set to be wed.
Bitter memories cloud my vision, but as I’m coming to, I gasp. “Steve, let me go!”
He chuckles wickedly. “You were mine then as you will always be mine and belong to me—when I want, and how I want. Don’t you ever forget that.” He whispers those last five words, and his breath is warm against my face. A sudden flashback to times he got drunk and grabbed me the way he just did flood my brain. It took me months after he left for me to realize that how he’d treated me was worse than I’d thought. This can’t be happening all over again. I need to get away from him.
I desperately try to break away from his grasp, but I can’t. He’s too strong, and his grip on me is too tight.
One of his hands lands on my ass and he squeezes tightly. “You always did have such a nice round booty… Mmm, the things I want to do to it right now. Why don’t we make our way to our bedroom, huh?”
“Fuck you!” I shout, trying desperately to break away from his hold. This is my place now. He no longer lives here. He grabs me from the waist and pulls me out of the living room and into the hallway. I grip onto the doorjamb and hold on as tightly as I possibly can, but my hands are slipping and hurting from gripping so tightly. “No!” I scream. “Let me go!”
“What’s going on here?” A familiar voice I adore so much comes to my rescue. My eyes dash toward the front door. Thank God for the spare key only she and my sister know sits tucked behind the portrait hanging right outside the door.
Steve’s grip on me immediately loosens at the distraction, and I stumble forward and move as far away from him as I possibly can. I run to my best friend’s side. “Emy!” I wrap my arms around her, so thankful that she barged in and interrupted his ploy.
She gives me a once-over and asks, “Are you okay, girl?”
I nod. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” We let go of our embrace, and I stand next to her, hugging myself. I hate that he had his hands on me. I hate the memories that crashed back to my mind. It took me so long to move forward from all of it, his physical and emotional abuse and his cheating ways. And now, he’s just brought it all back. I shudder. I feel dirty and can’t wait to shower.
Turning to face Steve, she places a hand on her hip. “What the hell are you doing here, Steve?”
He puts on a smug grin, backing against the wall. “Emy. Figures you’d show up right when we were about to get to business. You always did know how to cock-block our relationship. It’s so nice to see you again too.”
She smirks. “Quit the smart remarks, ass clown. And thank God I did get here when I did because it appears as though you’ve overstayed your welcome. It’s time for you to go. Or I’ll call the cops.”
Steve throws me a look and then glares back at my friend. “Call the cops? For what? For coming over to see my girl? Please…”
“I’m not your girl, Steve!” I roar. My blood is boiling, and now my fists are balled tightly at my sides. I refuse to let him treat me the way he used to. Not now, not ever again.
“You need to leave. Now,” Emy responds.
He doesn’t flinch, and Emy nods her head.
“Like I said, either you go or I’m calling the cops.”
He crosses his arms, leaning against the wall. “You wouldn’t.”
Emy’s eyes widen. “Oh, I wouldn’t? Watch me.” She pulls out her phone and hits the number nine.
It immediately makes Steve jump forward and stop her from dialing the rest of the digits. “Okay, fine, fine. I’m going.” He walks toward us and then, looking at me directly in the eyes, he says, “But this isn’t