Take You Back

WRAPPED KNUCKLES

You were unsure which pain is worse the
shock of what happens or the
ache for what never will.
-Amanda Parikh

His bruised knuckles were wrapped in perfect gauze and it worried me to think if he was well. His expression had continuously quieted throughout the night. The ticking of the clock, every moment that had passed, made it difficult to concentrate. I bit down hard on my tongue, feeling the gush of blood grow in my mouth. I gulped, feeling uneasy about the taste. Looking ahead of me, I met his blue eyes, and they held me captive. If I had kept my gaze longer, I would've drowned.

He was the demon in all camouflage behind his good-looking highlights, and his captivating eyes, a camouflage he wore to trick his companions to trap the eyes of numerous individuals. He said he had no weaknesses, which I took as a lie. Without a doubt, he does the demon despise losing, on the off chance that the fallen angel loses his heart, something he considers to be rare. Something near him that no one could touch. If he loses this, then he loses himself. He gets frantic. That's what happened when he fell from paradise. He left something.

"So here's the agreement." He hopped right to the point, breaking the mist in the air. "If you agree to marry me for a year, you'll gain the opportunity to have your freedom back by the end of it. I'll be out of your life, and in return you get what you desire." I choked on the air that filled my lungs. I might have been listening to him clearly, but the erratic beating of my pulse around my body apparently frightened me, and in that miniature, I knew he was a mad man.

"No, are you insane? Why would I marry you? Do I look like I'm stupid? Do you think this could be a movie where a psychopath captures a helpless lady and they live happily ever after? This is no fairytale. You're insane. Come to think of it, you are indeed insane" He sat out of my reach, observing my escalation. I drank the last drop of my water, wiping away the few that streamed down my chin. My body was soaked in sweat, I was hot, and my breathing was becoming difficult. I do not know where he was taking this, but I'm not getting hitched to this man whom I do not know about. He despises the sight of me the first day we met. I know that mongrel despises every bone in my body. Something appears to be fishy.

"What are you doing, may I ask?"

"You have no other option remember your friend's life is on the line here. and why wouldn't you marry me? Any girl who gets the opportunity to marry me will go ballistic and do it without thinking." He spoke bitterly. He threatened me each time I declined Tina. This Tina that he knows I had no fear of him, so he used Tina and if he did do Tina anything she'd go live with her mom and afterward he would tear down everything that comes in his path like a monster truck, and Vincent Johnson always gets what he wants.

"You're a sick psychopath that feeds off people's weaknesses. You're a monster," he smirked, knowing that I didn't have any other choice but to agree with him. "I'm not like every girl, Mr. Johnson. You speak so highly about women who you don't know one clue about. That's where you were wrong to think I'd be excited about marrying you and be jolly.You are a sick psychopath," I spat at him. His eyes never left mine as he watched my every move. His lips trailed down to my lips licking his. I won't lie, that had an effect on me, but I didn't show him that it did.

I took a piece of chicken and threw it at him, snapping him out of his outrageous and ungodly thoughts, but quickly he dodged it his face went dark, slamming his fist on the table, spilling his water on the floor.

"I will not have this type of behavior permitted in my house!" he roared, leaning back in his chair. "We are indeed getting married, so this is my house too." He cleared his throat and got out of the chair and walked towards me. "Weren't you the one that didn't want to get married, and now you are taking ownership of my house?" His eyes rest, not unblinking but slowed. Yet, the effect is soft and inviting instead of the harsh ones he'd normally give me.

"You have beautiful eyes," his fingers touched my cheeks, stroking them. I let out a shaky breath, squeezing my eyes shut at the foreign feeling. I've never been touched this way before. His fingers left my cheeks and made their way to my lips, "Why are you doing this?" I breathed out, holding on to his hands. "I'm protecting what's mine," he whispers in my ear, pressing a soft kiss against my forehead.

"Vincent, what do you mean?" He didn't answer but walked away, and I was furious and still angry.

*****************************

I slid down the wall looking at the mess I had created. I tried everything to get him to let me go and nothing worked. He wouldn't let me work. The only place I could go was outside in the garden and nowhere else.

The mess was huge in front of my eyes, from broken glasses, torn up paintings, a broken television, and furniture with sponges all over the floor. The living room was worse bigger than my room and Vincent's room, which left him without any clothes for the rest of the afternoon.

"Laura!" His voice erupts through the whole house, shouting my name once again repeatedly, but I kept quiet. The only thing that sounded was the clicking of his shoes on the tiled floor.

I got up and quickly rushed towards the door, locking it. I groaned out in pain. My feet came intact with a sharp piece of glass that was stuck in the bottom of my foot. "Ouch!!" I cried out, watching as the blood dripped on the white carpet and the sound of the door being knocked on.

"Laura, open the door this instant!" His voice was loud, he spoke with pure anger and I could tell that he had that cold look on his face, ready to kill someone. "Go away, Mr. Johnson!" The pain could be heard in my voice as I spoke. The blood was not dripping anymore this time, but was running wild like a river.

Banging on the door from the other side, tears started spilling from my eyes, leaving the taste in my mouth salty. My hands steadily held onto my feet, hopping to make the pain go away, trembling at the same time, but that's not how it worked. The glass pierced its way deep into my foot. I needed medical attention, or I would pass out locked in the room. Vincent would leave me to die, even the slightest bit of feeling. I knew he wouldn't care. He hated my guts and my annoying ass.

The clicking sound of the door unlocking caught my attention. Vincent looked around the room when his eyes rested on me. His hands were in the shape of a ball, ready to knock anyone down in a matter of seconds. He reached to lift me, but I scurried away back into the wall, covering my face.

"Laura, I don't have time for games. You need to get that glass pulled out of your foot right now," he shouted at me, immediately the fresh tears resurfaced on my face like waves.

"No!" I screamed at him, but despite my protest, he took me in his arms and rested me on the bed, going inside the bathroom and returned with a first aid kit.

His eyes met mine each time he took cotton a and dressed my wound. The hardest part of my pain was the sharp glass being pulled out of my foot.

"You need to stop this. It's going to get you hurt," he said from the bathroom while he went to dispose of the used gauze and cotton. "I'm already hurting from the first day you brought me here. since you have stepped in my life, it's nothing but hurt." He came out the bathroom, not wanting to have this conversation. He glanced over his shoulder one last time before leaving.

"We are getting married whether you like it or not."