Blake started up the car and we roared off, tires squealing, though I doubted anyone heard. Christina had no doubt returned to her computer or else to the phone, or maybe she was reading Women’s Health while painting her nails. Either way she never would have noticed. I figured she had some big hit hip hop song playing on our stereo.

Some people thought it was strange that my twin and I shared a room when our house was so big, with so much property, and our family was so wealthy. But we did. We had since we were born and neither of us had up and moved into a different room. At times we definitely wanted to, but overall, sharing the room was something we had in common. And we groped for things we could both relate to. There was our looks, of course. And then there was our room. Minus a few things little things, that was all we had.

When we got our horses, I think we both inwardly thought that would be the ultimate thing to pull us together. But instead it merely pushed us farther apart. Christina had liked to go riding with her friends from the little pony club we’d been part of during 6th and 7th grade, but she’d quickly grown out of the idea of her horse becoming her best friend. Or even friend for that matter, since she never rode anymore at all. To me though… Victoria had been so much more than a horse. More than even just a friend or something for me to commit my time to. I’d already been somewhat of tom boy growing up, so the addition of a cowboy hat and boots didn’t seem like much, but it changed who I was. As we grew older I divulged myself deeper into my horse. I spent my free time after school with her, riding in the woods of our property, training and practicing dressage, or maybe just brushing her or bathing her. The night Victoria died was perhaps the most devastating moment of my life.

Christina had long since moved on to parties, boys, and friends. Sure, I went to my fair share of parties, but really it was only when Christina dragged me along. I never really had friends like Christina either. I had people I called my friends who I would ride with, sit with at school, study with, or go out for ice cream with. But when it came right down to it, most of the time I’d rather be out with my horse alone by the creek, than with one of the girls I sat with at lunch. I never really dated like Christina either. Of course, I had my crushes, but nothing ever seemed to work out. Or at least until Blake came along.

Blake changed everything. Blake changed my world. Who I was. What I wanted. The things I did and cared about. He changed every last thing about me, except Victoria. Victoria was my rock, the one thing I could go back to that was completely separate from Blake. I was still a cowgirl at heart, though Blake had long ago forbidden me to wear my hat with him into clubs and such. He hated my boots too, but hadn’t been able to dismiss those so easily. He had bought me shoes though, which he insisted I wore to certain things. He bought me a lot of things. And every last one of them sent sick pangs of fear through me every time I saw them.

“Are you listening to me?” Blake’s hard voice cut through my thoughts and my entire body tensed up. I had managed to relax some, but the anger in his words dispelled it twice over.

“I’m sorry,” I said again, but didn’t bother with an excuse. Anything more I said would only turn me into something else bad that he could prey on. And even if there was an excuse I could mutter that he would accept, I didn’t have the strength nor courage to attempt it.

“God damn girl, stop your moping. Your fucking horse is dead.” The hair on the back of my neck stood to attention. I hadn’t been thinking about that, but hearing his voice talk of Victoria with such distaste had my skin flaming. “Speaking of, are you going to stop wearing those stupid boots and that damn hat now?” It was weird how you could hate someone so much, but love them just as much at the same time. Weird how I would flinch in fear at his voice one moment, then love the deep, gruffness of it. How I could love the person so desperately who’d marred my body, stifled my bold and happy personality and completely decimated my self confidence. Not to mention left me wanting to cower in fear after one disgusted look. But love him I did.

“Probably,” I said because that was as close to the answer he wanted as I could give him at the moment.

It was a Wednesday night, that first time I met Blake’s parents. A random day in the middle of the week. Blake had his arm around my shoulders as we walked in the front door into the foyer. I looked around me at the incredible expanse of beautiful mahogany wood that lined the walls and extended up to the ceiling via the big beautiful staircase directly in front of us. All my life I’d grown up around the beautiful houses of rich friends and relatives, but yet I was somehow impressed and slightly intimidated by this one. Blake’s parents were clearly considerably wealthy.

“Mom?” Blake called out, releasing his arm from my shoulders to shrug off his jacket. It was halfway through fall and a cool breeze blew through town in the evenings now.

“Oh is that you dear?” called a voice. It was a soft, slightly high toned voice, that sounded almost fakely happy, like she way trying to cover up being tired or stressed. Within a few seconds a very tall, thin looking woman breezed down the stairs, her very dark teal colored blouse billowing in her wake. I was almost shocked to see she was wearing sunglasses, big ones with stylish oversized lenses. It was dusk outside, but I guess the house was bright. I wondered if she suffered from migraines.

Despite the unusual appearance she was, without doubt, absolutely beautiful. She had dark espresso colored hair that was fluffed into big flowing curls around her thin face. When she reached the base of the stairs and looked up at me a big beautiful smile spread across her face, her lips a beautiful dark red color that only someone with as tan of skin as her could wear. There was almost a little faulter though, where maybe she’d smudged it a little on the right side of her bottom lip, or maybe she had a left over canker sore, but I really couldn’t imagine someone as perfect and composed as her, having time for something like that.

“You!” she exclaimed, holding out a dainty hand with long graceful fingers clad with glistening golden rings on each finger. Each ring was probably worth a year in college. “You must be Kristen Hart!”

I took her hand with mine and it was surprisingly strong for its frailty. “I am,” I said, smiling back at her, “You must be Meredith”. I’d been nervous for this, for finally meeting Blake’s parents after we’d dated for two and a half months. For awhile I’d felt like he didn’t want me to meet them, so I was afraid maybe they wouldn’t like me. Her smile eased my anxiety.

“Yes, I’m Blake’s mother,” she said, beaming at us both.

It was then that I noticed Blake. The good mood he’d been in seemed to be gone and he was standing next to me with his back and shoulders tense, a deep frown on his face. I felt awkward again suddenly, like something was wrong. Maybe I’d done something wrong. I’d given him such a hard time about wanting to meet his parents, maybe it was too soon.

“Why are you wearing sunglasses?” Blake said, his voice pointedly harsh and disapproving. Almost like he was scolding a child.

“Oh, don’t worry about it dear, just another migraine.” She waved her hand at him dismissively and took my arm in hers. “I’ve heard so much about you, I’m so happy to have finally met you!”

It was only then, as I walked beside her, that I realized why she was wearing sunglasses. I couldn’t see the full extent of it, but the corner of her eye was completely black with a bruise. I’d never seen someone with a black eye before, save for a few on guys at school. But their’s had never looked this bad. I wondered if she could even see out of that eye, I couldn’t tell. And then I wondered how she’d gotten it.

“You know, we can always do dinner another time,” Blake said, and I finally understood his uneasiness. Suddenly things were starting to line up in my mind and I wondered if it was bad I was here.

“Nonsense!” she said and again, I realized how fakely chipper her voice was. It was unsettling. “Dinner’s already ready and the table’s set. Why don’t you two sit down and I’ll get your father.” She lead us into a big lavish dining room with huge dark wood exotic table with matching white-cushioned chairs. Set already were four places with china dishware and what I could only guess was real silver silverware.

Dinner was incredibly awkward, but Meredith did her best to make it not. She talked on and on about her own little book club and charity coordinations and asked all about me and where I was going to college next fall and what I liked to do for fun, and was so surprised I was a twin.

Blake’s father, however, was quiet, he had greeted me politely upon entering the room and then sat quietly at the head of the table. The tension between him and Blake was unmistakable. He only spoke twice. Once to say, “The turkey is dry.” And once to say, “there isn’t enough butter on these potatoes, Meredith I don’t know why you insist on making these how I don’t like them.” Both of which were met by a moments silence and Blake’s angry glare. Meredith would of course break the silence by saying, “Oh I’ll try to remember that next time, so really Kristen, your mother is on the board of affairs? What’s her name?”

Turns out Meredith and my mother knew each other briefly, they’d been on the same planning committee for some black tie charity event I’d been forced to go to. However my mother had been in charge of catering, and Meredith in charge of invitations, so they’d really only spoke to discuss guest food allergies.

I wanted to pretend like this was a perfectly happy family dinner that I was taking part in, but Meredith’s smile never faltered once, and Blake’s father, George, was… what could only be described as cold. And Blake, Blake was livid.

I never asked Blake if his father gave his mother that black eye, it just never seemed right to bring up. We left shortly after dinner and went back to Blake’s place at the back of their property and never spoke of that night again.

“Where are we going?”

I could still remember a time when he’d been sweet and caring. When he’d hold my hand, kiss my knee if I scraped it, bring me flowers, and tell me he loved me. I remember we used to go riding together then we’d lay in the woods for hours, making out or making love, before riding back to society. We’d laugh for hours, just talking and being together. And, god, when we’d made love… it had been so wonderful. He’d made it so special. He’d made me feel like I was beautiful, like I was every man’s dream.

Blake had been absolutely amazing.

He’d been challenging and different and being with him had made me feel so alive. The things we did together had seemed so dangerous but he was always so cool about everything, about the drugs and the girls and stupid drunk guys. He was always watching me and checking on me to make sure I was okay, always there to protect me. It had given me adrenaline rushes that I hadn’t ever felt before. That danger was nothing compared to what I faced now. This time it was from him.

“Pete’s house, he owes me a hundred and fifty bucks.”

“He doing that ‘I’ll pay you back later’ thing again?” I asked. I knew this world. I knew the drugs, the people who dealt them, and exactly what happened if you didn’t pay up. If Pete had a brain in his head, which he probably didn’t, he’d have that money snugly in a neat little envelope, with a little extra for good measure, and a shut mouth.

Blake smiled at me and I felt warmth settle inside me. It was the smile that I loved so much. It was the smile I looked for every time I saw him. It meant things were okay between us until I screwed something else up. Sometimes it lasted for the rest of the night. But most importantly and probably the most painful part about it, was the spark of hope that lit inside me as I wondered if it would be today that he’d turn back into the person he was when I met him. The person I’d fallen in love with.

Somehow today it wasn’t quite enough. Maybe I knew better now. It warmed me, but I couldn’t even bring myself to light that spark of hope. I didn’t want to consider the idea that he was never going to be like he was, but somewhere in the back of my head, I imagine I knew.

“Then to Rob‘s, he‘s having a party in about two hours and needs some shit.”

I nodded as the little warmth inside me dropped to the pit of my stomach. I didn’t like Rob. In fact, I downright despised him. Without a doubt, if Blake was out of sight, he’d have my arm and be telling me how beautiful I was, and how I deserved a real man and how he could get me all the drugs I could ever use and he’d treat me real good. I think he just liked to make me uncomfortable. Blake would always come back at the worst moment possible. I’d gotten more than a few good sized bruises on me because of Rob. Rob of course never knew, not that he cared, it was the idea of me that he loved, not me. He liked the way I looked when he grabbed my butt or ran his finger down my face. It made me sick.

Blake eyed me suspiciously, “You aren’t gonna screw around with him again are you?”

There was no point in explaining my distaste for Rob. No, that had only earned me another bruise for ‘lying’. “No, I won’t. I’ll stay at your side all night if you let me,” I said dutifully. And truthfully, the closer I was to Blake, the further away Rob would stay.

He smiled again. “Alright.”

Blake had introduced me to the drug world. I knew what it all looked like and what it did to you. Blake could get anything, cocain, meth, ecstasy, anything. He’d offered all of it to me, but I’d always been too afraid to do anything but smoke marijuana. He showed me how to smoke it out of pipe, bong, or blunt. Sometimes I felt like he liked teaching me his trade more than he liked getting high. I never really liked smoking either, but he felt it necessary that I at least know what pot was like. I was his girl afterall. And, honestly, nowdays it was nice to feel something else for awhile, anything but the endless spiraling downward of my life.

“Are we going anywhere after that?” I asked.

“Just my house,” he said pointedly. “Where you’re gonna make up for blowing me off yesterday.” He smiled when I smiled back at him, which made me feel a little better.

“That I will,” I agreed, as I was supposed to.

Sex with Blake now was exactly that: sex. It was no longer making love. That had left with the kindness in his eyes. But knowing that he still wanted me in such an intimate way helped stifle the pain of the coldness he treated me with on a regular basis. It also insured that I would be safe for at least an hour. And the moments that we’d lay together afterwards were priceless to me. Whenever I thought that he didn’t love me anymore, all I had to do was think of the time we spent in each other’s arms at night. Sometimes I’d stay the whole night and we’d just lay together and sleep.

To this day, I have no doubt that he loved me. I know it because why else would he have kept me scared to leave him? Blake could have anyone, but he wanted me. And I know it because of the way he held me at night after sex, his face pressed into my hair his arms wrapped around me so tight like if he loosened his grip I might slip away.

“Jeezus, you’re quiet,” he said loudly, startling me from my thoughts. “What are you thinking about?”

“You,” I said and smiled at him, hoping it would please him. He smiled too and my heart crept from its tiny dark hiding place.

“What about me?” he asked.

This was a close as I could get to getting back the old him and I reveled in every last drop because I knew it wouldn’t last. “About you and me. About what we’re going to do when we get to your place.”

His smile widened, his eyes sparkling in what I told myself was love and the happiness he used to possess, “by all means, do continue.”

“About making love with you,” I told him, as he’d wished. I still called it “making love” when I spoke out loud. I knew it was far from that, but sometimes it came close. All I had left was hope and I hung on to every last thread of it. “About taking you clothes off and kissing you all over.”

“Damn,” he muttered, still smiling at me, “I wish I didn’t have a deadline tonight, else we’d go there right now.”

The thought of not going to Rob’s was irresistible so I took a chance and blundered on. “You could skip it, they’ll live. You can deal with Pete tomorrow and Rob…” My voice trailed off as I realized my dire mistake.

“No Kris, I can’t just ditch this. This is my job. This is what I do. You’re always trying to fucking change me.”

“I’m not trying to change you,” I said quickly, but it was useless. The damage had been done. If I was lucky I’d get him back into a decent mood by the time we reached his house, but all that counted on his dealings to go smoothly and considering who we were dealing with today, that would take a miracle. Pete was a pain in the ass and always owed money, rarely having all it the first few times Blake came calling. Then there was Rob…

“The fuck you’re not. You’re always wanting me to stay clean, wanting me to give up dealing. What the fuck is your problem? This is who I fucking am.” I always knew he was beyond recovery when “fuck” was in every sentence he spat out at me. “If you hate my life so fucking much why don’t you go off with Rob. We all know you want to fuck his brains out. Or maybe you already have, you fucking whore. You sure fucking dress like one, why not just go along with the outfit and act on it bitch. God damn, I give you everything and you don’t do shit in return. Fuck this. I don’t know why I put up with you. You’re fucking worthless.”

I won’t pretend his words didn’t hurt. They cut deep into me and ripped down the little confidence and hope that had grown while he had smiled at me. I didn’t understand how every time he hurt me it hurt a little bit worse and I fell just a little bit further into a depressed and terrified stupor. I would just keep falling lower and lower and I never seemed to reach the bottom.

“What’s he like? Does he pay you or do you do it for free? What’s the cost? Twenty-five for a quickie, fifty for the works? You’ve always been so cheap,” he snarled then turned to look at me. His eyes burned with angry flames as he glared at me with contempt.

My eyes burned with tears but I dared not let one fall. Instead I pinched my thighs from where my hands were tucked to distract myself from his words. “I don’t sleep with anyone but you,” I said, trying to stay calm.

He slammed his foot on the brake and swerved to the side of the road, causing me to rock in my seat and nearly hit my head on the dash. He then turned his broad, powerful shoulders towards me. “You fucking liar,” his voice growled in a tone so low and familiar that the sudden pierce of pain as he grabbed my arm didn‘t even startle me.

“Blake please,” I said, fumbling for words to silence his tirade. “Please,” I repeated, “I love you. I would never--” I was cut off mid sentence when his hand sunk into my hair, gripped hard, and twisted. I cried out in pain. Again, I realized my mistake.

--

Alenor: Thanks for all the comments! Even just a note to say you've read the chapter makes me want to write more :)

Pixiedragongirl: I'm really glad you like it! I'm kind of concerned as to whether or not I'm dragging this on too much at this point... I just turned what was 2 chapters into 6 (basically 8ish pages into about 27 pages, ouch). But I was hoping it'd make people understand Blake and her relationship with him better. I dunno, I'm getting eager for things to start looking up and not be so depressing :)