Author: Priscilla West

“‘I have some ideas for some new positions we could take at our next meeting’; ‘If you’re touching yourself right now, it’s only a fraction of the pleasure I’d give you’. Give me a break. He’s a douchebag. Just like those frat guys we used to make fun of in college—the ones with baseball caps turned backward and popped-collars. I know how smart you are Kristen. That’s why I’m surprised you’ve been falling for this guy’s bullshit.”

Hearing Marty recite bits of private conversation between me and Vincent made the blood drain from my face. “How did you know about those things? How did you see the text messages he sent me?”

Marty sighed. “Your phone. Remember I have access to it? I can see your texts and hear your conversations.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I never remember agreeing to that.”

“Yes, you did. We said we would share passwords. You use the same password for your email as you do for your phone.” Seeing my phone resting on the coffee table, he picked it up, tapped at it a few times, then showed me he’d passed the security input to reach the home screen. He smiled. “The word of the day is: waddles. You changed your password on your email and Facebook accounts but I guess you forgot to do it for your phone. You have an app that lets me access your phone through the internet. It’s how I’ve known where you’ve been all this time.”

“What the fuck,” I said, shocked at the invasion of my privacy. The signs had been there. Repeated warnings from my service provider about going over my data limit. My phone sometimes randomly turning on at night. He’d been watching me all this time.

“This is so twisted,” Vincent said. “You’ve been stalking her. That’s how you knew I was coming over here.”

“And you don’t think it’s twisted putting a tracker on my car? Hiring goons to live in the apartment next door. You’re the monster here. What’s sick is how you’re brainwashing Kristen with your charm!”

“Wait,” I said, still reeling. “If you knew where I was, why did you wait two years before showing up at my doorstep?”

Marty’s eyes became tender. “I was afraid. I didn’t feel like I deserved to see you after what I did to you. I thought you’d come back to me on your own when you were ready. I thought I could be a better man by then and we would be a stronger couple. But things didn’t go the way I planned.”

I tossed my hands up in the air. “You’re not making any sense.”

“You were going through a phase. You needed to date other guys and then eventually you’d realize we were meant to be together. That’s fine. I’m patient. You dated a few guys but it never got far. It was just a matter of time before you came back. But you went further with Vincent. I was afraid for you. Can’t you see why I had to step in? Vincent is bad news.”

“You know nothing about me,” Vincent said.

“I know you’re a charmer. You’re a CEO who doesn’t have time for personal relationships, never mind giving Kristen the kind of love she deserves. You’re just like my dad—wealthy, selfish, egotistical; only thinks about his business. He made my mom so miserable she killed herself. I’ll be damned if I let Kristen end up like that.”

“I’m not your dad. I’m nothing like your dad. Or you. What the hell’s the matter with you?”

“Ask yourself. Who beats someone up like this?” Marty pointed at his face.

“Someone who hates men who abuse women,” Vincent growled.

“Don’t call me an abuser. It was one time. I have a disorder for god’s sake, what’s your excuse for what you did?”

“I know guys like you. My sister dated one. You’re a piece of shit abuser who doesn’t deserve sympathy.”

“You know nothing about me! Calling me an abuser is bullshit. I hurt Kristen a little bit one time, and I feel awful about it. You have no right to beat me to a fucking pulp when I try to apologize to her.”

“Marty,” I said softly. “Vincent and I talked about that. But it doesn’t justify you coming into my apartment with a gun.”

“Kristen, I told you, I didn’t want to do this! What else can I do?”

“Take some fucking responsibility for your actions!” Vincent yelled.

“That’s what I’m doing now. I’m protecting her from you.”

“You’re ruining Kristen’s life! If you really care about her, you’d leave her the fuck alone.”

“You think I like doing this? This is all because of you.”

“You’re pathetic,” Vincent spat.

“You want to see who’s pathetic? I’ll show you.” Gun in hand, Marty stood up and stomped toward Vincent.

“Marty, no!” I screamed.

Chapter Eight

Marty stood in front of Vincent menacingly. Vincent looked up at him with defiance.

“Let’s see how you like it,” Marty said. “Kris, turn away. I don’t want you to see this.”

Marty balled up his fist and punched Vincent across the face.

“Stop Marty!” I screamed.

“Not so easy to beat me up when you don’t have your goon squad to hold me down, huh?” he sneered.

Vincent tried to shake off the blow but it was clear he was in pain.

“You don’t really care about her. You don’t love her like I do,” Marty said.

Marty landed another punch to Vincent’s face and I shrieked. Vincent didn’t protest but his nose began to bleed.

“Admit you don’t really care about Kristen.” Marty punched Vincent in the gut, knocking the wind from his lungs. “Show her I’m right.”

I leaped from the couch, my hand around my necklace. “Stop it Marty! You proved your point. You got your revenge. You don’t need to hurt him anymore.”

Marty wrinkled his brows. “What’s that around your neck, Kristen?”

Oh no. I’d planned on macing him but hesitated because he still had the pistol in his hand.

“Don’t touch her!” Vincent shouted hoarsely, straining against his cuffs. He was still trying to catch his breath.

Marty hurried over to me and ripped the necklace off. “He gave you this, didn’t he? To buy your affection.” Marty examined the heart-shaped pendant. He squeezed it between his thumb and forefinger and liquid squirted out from the bottom onto the carpet. “What the hell? What is this thing?”

I could feel my heart beating through my chest. The one chance I had of getting out of this mess was gone.

He brought his finger up to his nose to sniff then he touched the pad to the tip of his tongue and grimaced. “Is this like pepper spray or something?”

I shook my head, horrified.

“You meant to use this on me didn’t you? He made you wear this.” Marty went back to Vincent. “Trying to turn her against me? Making me out to be some kind of monster? Let’s see how you like being treated like that.”

Marty squeezed the pendant and squirted fluid into Vincent’s face. Vincent closed his eyes and tried to turn away but it got all over his face.

“Oh god!” I cried.

Vincent didn’t cry out in pain. He kept his eyes closed but his jaw was clenched tightly. I could only imagine how bad his eyes were burning right now.

“Say that you don’t really care about Kristen. Say it and I’ll stop.”

“Please, Vincent,” I pleaded. “Just do what he wants. I don’t want you getting hurt anymore.”

Vincent hung his head, panting. He tried wiping off the mace with his sleeve and managed to get enough off to crack open his eyes. “I don’t care about Kristen,” he murmured, blood dripping from his lip.

Even though I asked him to say it, and the circumstances were extreme, the words hurt more than I anticipated.

Marty grinned wickedly. “That’s what I thought.” He turned to me. “See, Kris? If I hadn’t done this, you would’ve never known what a liar he really is. See how I’m protecting you?”

“You think you’ve proven something?” Vincent growled, commanding Marty’s attention once again. Still on his knees, he threw his shoulders back and brought his head up, his posture like a soldier’s. “My feelings for her go beyond caring. I love her.”

Marty became furious. He socked Vincent across the face again. The force of the blow made Vincent turn his head and I could see his eyes were red from the mace.

“No you don’t. Say it again. I dare you.”

Vincent gazed at me. Both his eyes were bloodshot and one was already swelling from Marty’s blows. He looked miserable—a man on the verge of dying. “Look at me Kristen. This might be my last chance to say this.”

My breath stopped. My heart pounded in my ears.

“I’ve felt this way for a while. I knew it was just attraction at first. But after taking you to my island, I realized it was more. So much more. I love you, Kristen. I mean truly love you. Not obsession. Not lust. Not selfish possession. Not some kind of blind idealism. Not some sick, twisted version of love—but the real thing. One with eyes open. One with respect. One that never underestimates the hardships to its existence, never takes the other person for granted. The only kind of love there really is.”

“Vincent, no!” Tears streamed down my face.

Marty punched Vincent in the face harder than before. Then Marty kicked him in the stomach. “I warned you!”

“I love you, Kristen,” Vincent choked.

“Stop saying that. You’re a liar!” Marty kicked Vincent again.

“Please, don’t say it again,” I sobbed.

“I lo—”

Marty pistol-whipped Vincent on the side of the head. “Don’t try to act like you’re the hero and I’m the villain. Don’t forget you’re the one who started this.”

“No,” Vincent panted, his voice barely above a whisper. “You started it when you hurt her.” Every word was strained and seemed to require all his energy just to pronounce.