Hold Me Tighter

Hold Me Tighter

OooooO

He awoke in the same position he fell asleep in. The first thing he noticed when he opened his eyes was the pounding inside his skull, intensified from last night. His whole body throbbed dully, especially his lower body. He tried to roll over, to stand up, but found he couldn’t. Every nerve screamed at him to hold still, every muscle aching so bad he gasped, resuming his previous position. His skin felt like it was sticky, like if he moved wrong it would rip apart.

He could feel the swelling on his face and back, could practically feel the ugly purple and red bruises and gashes that covered his back, from his shoulders to his knees. He vaguely wondered if he should call the hospital, but quickly banished that thought. If he went, he would have to tell how he got his wounds. He couldn’t have any of what happened on record, what if Nick found out?

He couldn’t take any chances; he would be killed for sure if he even made any attempt to report what was happening. He moved again, gasping as the pain faired through him again, tears sprung into his eyes. He let them fall, having no shame since the source of his pain was nowhere in sight. Crying out as he finally managed to pull himself into a sitting position, the pressure on his injured backside made it felt like he was being stuck with a white hot poker. Vision blurring with tears and pain, he gritted through it, managing to get his feet to the floor.

Supporting himself on the edge of the night table, feeling his legs shaking violently and his injuries throbbing along with his quickening heartbeat, he braced himself for a few seconds. Sweat dripped down his temple as he took a step forward, making his way to the bathroom. Looking around, making sure Nick wouldn’t surprise him by walking through the bedroom door. After what seemed like an hour, he finally made it into the bathroom. Flicking on the light only aggravated his aching head, but he had to tend to himself, clean himself up and go on with his life. Turning on the water, he leaned heavily onto the vanity, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Dark bruises, coupled with the nasty gash and swelling made him feel more like a punching bag than a human.

“Very fitting, since that seems to be my role in this relationship,” He thought bitterly as he stared at his reflection. He took the washcloth, wetting it as he prepared himself for the stinging. He touched it to his face, hissing at the burn of raw skin touching the rough rag, but he continued, whimpering at each touch as he kept cleaning the crusted blood off his face.

As he continued, feeling as if he were going to pass out from the pain, his thoughts wandered. He let them, hoping they’d distract him from the pain. He thought about random thoughts, of mundane everyday activities. One though entered his mind, one that made his stomach sink in fear.

Where would he go now?

He couldn’t stay here. Last night’s beating was horrible, too horrible to let it continue. He couldn’t go anywhere though. He had no family close enough and what few friends he had weren’t close enough to ask such a favor from. He dropped the bloody rag into the sink, shaking and sobbing as he watched the blood swirling down the drain. He wished his pain was attached to that blood, just going down the drain, disappearing out of sight. He shut the water off, moving away from the sink. He had to go, but didn’t know where.

Making his way back into the bedroom, he collected the only other articles of clothing he was allowed to have besides his work clothes, luckily, they just happened to be a pair of black sweatpants and an oversized black T-Shirt. Thankful for once that the clothes were loose fitting and relatively easy to get on, he managed to get them on, hissing through his teeth as the cloth touched his back. Endorphins must’ve been kicking in because the pain was starting to let up. Sure, he still felt it, but they felt more like a dull ache now.

Walking out of the bedroom, he heard the distant wail of sirens. Wrapping his arms around his aching body, he shut his eyes. He made a decision, one he was scared to death to make, but he really had no other choice. He’d have to get to the police station somehow. He wouldn’t report Nick. He didn’t want the cops questioning him; he wouldn’t feel right getting them involved with something he had to deal with himself. He’d go there, to seek a safe shelter, nothing else. Taking a deep breath, calming his fluttering stomach, he went to the door. He reached for the doorknob, but heard it rattling before he could even touch it.
He gasped; fear filling him as he realized what was happening. Nick was home. Oh god, he was home! Frozen with fear, he couldn’t move away fast enough before the door opened.

“Well, I’m surprised to see you up and about,” Nick greeted, eyes shining as he smiled sweetly at Jack. “After what you endured last night, I would’ve thought you’d still be in bed.”

Anger welled up, pushing any other feeling aside momentarily. He wanted to say something, knock him to the ground as he did him countless times. Tell him he was a bastard and he should go to hell right before walking out the door, never to return. He couldn’t though. He couldn’t afford anymore abuse to his body, not in the condition he was in. He kept quiet; closing his eyes in what hoped looked like pain, trying to mask the anger shining in them. He would just have to replan his escape.

“Why don’t you go sit down, hm?” Nick suggested, reaching out for Jack’s arm. Jack flinched violently as he felt hands on his arm and Nick shushed him gently. He let himself be led to the couch, felt himself being lower onto the soft cushions. He was thankful that the cushions were so soft because the pain in his backside was dulled to a dull ache. He knew once he stood it would hurt again, but for now he was soothed.

“About last night,” Nick started, wrapping a strand of Jack’s hair between his fingers, playing with it lightly. Jack shuddered, both at the touch and the mention of last night. The last thing he wanted to do was speak of last night’s activities, but he couldn’t deny Nick of anything he wanted to do.

“You know, that hurt me to do that to you.” A gentle hand ran down his arm, causing the muscles in his arm to clench. “I do it to protect you though.” A nuzzle in the side of his neck. “You know that right?”
Jack swallowed, nodding, avoiding Nick’s eyes. It was a mechanical gesture, honed over months of conditioning.

“Good. I would hate for you to think I do it just to hurt you.” Feeling a strong arm fall across his shoulders, pulling him closer to what was supposed to be a comforting warmth. To him, it was everything but. He could feel the looming threat of danger and pain in the embrace.

He bit back a cry of pain as his injuries rubbed on the fabric of the couch. A hand rubbed his shoulders, avoiding the wounds, trying providing some form of comfort. He knew better than to try and struggle out of his grasp, no matter how much he didn’t want to be touch at the moment. He forced himself to relax, knowing that’s what Nick wanted him to do.

Nick kissed the top of his head, in a believable display of affection. Jack closed his eyes, letting Nick do what he wanted. No matter how much he hurt at the moment, he’d be smart as to not do anything to cause more pain. He rested is head on Nick’s shoulder, spine staying stiff.

“Now, just relax,” Nick told him, sounding more like a demand than a gentle order as he leaned his head against the back of the couch, closing his eyes.

Jack kept his eyes open, not wanting to sleep. He wanted to get up and run, far from this place and this relationship. Swallowing the lump that formed in his throat, he kept his eyes forward, staring blankly. The warmth did feel good though, in a purely physical way.

He just wished he could feel the emotion behind it.