Helena Hunting - Clipped Wings

“Why are you letting this asshole talk to you like this?” Hayden asked, his voice raised.

I couldn’t process it all. Trey’s arrival, legal papers in hand, Hayden finding out about Connor—it was too much. I didn’t deserve Hayden. I didn’t deserve anyone. My dreams had become a premonition; I was too broken to be loved. I could never give him all of me.

“I didn’t want to hurt anymore.” All the words suddenly jammed in my throat.

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?” Hayden asked, appalled.

He took a step closer until we were almost touching. His hurt and anger enveloped me. It felt like razor blades were serrating me from the inside.

“You should go,” I whispered.

“Tenley, look at me.”

I shook my head, eyes trained on the floor. His finger came up under my chin. Misery ripped through me as I realized this would probably be the last time he touched me. I took a deep breath as he lifted my head. He searched my face for something, some sign that I was still there with him. But I shut down, returning to the numb state I was in when I first arrived in Chicago.

“He’s right, isn’t he? I’m your punishment.”

Remorse kept me tongue-tied.

His thumb brushed along my jaw. “It was never about the tattoo. Not for me.” His hand dropped.

When he turned and walked out the door, my whole world caved in again. The agony his departure unleashed took me down. It was so familiar and yet so different this time. I sank to the floor. I watched Trey’s feet cross the threshold into the room, and the door closed behind him. The lock slid into place and he stood before me. I was lost in grief and guilt. I didn’t have the energy left to fight.

“Always so dramatic,” he sighed. He set his briefcase down and knelt in front of me. Taking my chin in his hand, he forced my head up. “Look at you, such a mess. What did you think running away would accomplish?”

“I hate you,” I whispered, on the brink of tears. I didn’t want to lose it in front of him. It was his favorite kind of ammunition to use against me.

“Maybe right now you do, but when you’re back home and thinking clearly, you’ll thank me.” He let go but stayed where he was.

I should have signed over the house when he’d asked in the first place; I’d have been free of him now if I had. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why?” Trey asked in a low, angry hiss. “You took everyone from me. And then, after everything I did for you, you left, you ungrateful—” He stopped and righted himself. “I’m going to pack you a bag and you’re going to come home. When you’ve signed over the house, you’ll be free to do as you please. Even if that means running back here to that degenerate loser you’ve been letting fuck you for God knows how long.”

“Hayden’s not a degenerate.” I struggled to my feet.

My limbs felt loose, uncoordinated, my body detached from my mind. Trey stared down at me with absolute loathing.

“Don’t defend him to me. You are defiling yourself, and for what? Some deviant who enjoys corrupting you until you’re no longer fun to play with?”

He dragged me to the bedroom by my arm, depositing me roughly on the bed. He was good at isolating my fears and gouging wounds in my self-esteem. Trey opened my closet door and found a suitcase. I pushed up off the mattress and elbowed him out of the way.

“I can’t leave. I have classes to teach,” I said, wondering how far he would push this.

“I’ve already taken care of that. I spoke to the dean of your program and your advisor on Friday.” Trey headed for my dresser.

“You did what?”

“You’d be amazed at what a little legal paperwork can accomplish. Your advisor seemed very understanding. We spoke at length. He expressed concern over whether or not you were mentally prepared to endure the rigors of the program.” Trey smiled derisively and reached for the top drawer. His audacity knew no bounds. “He seemed rather adamant about keeping you under his advisement. Tell me, Tenley, what exactly is your relationship with your advisor?”

“Who do you think you are, interfering in my life like that?”

Trey turned to look at me, eyes burning with anger. “I’m the person who made sure you were taken care of.”

“You consider shoving pills down my throat and keeping me medicated to the point of unconsciousness care ?” I asked bitterly.

It was bad enough Trey had come unannounced, treated Hayden like trash, and threatened me with a subpoena. That he’d contacted my advisor and the dean of my program was such an inexcusable invasion of privacy that I didn’t want his hands on my things.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yes. You are. The memorial service is barely more than a week away. You will be there.”

I felt like I’d been backhanded. “Memorial service?” The reality I hadn’t wanted to face came anyway. The anniversary of the crash was only days away.

“Yes, Tenley, they’re meant to commemorate the dead,” he said contemptuously. “Why do you look so shocked? Haven’t you listened to any of my messages? Christ, you really are a selfish little bitch.”

He yanked open the drawer with such force that it came free of the dresser, the contents spilling all over the floor. He fisted a pile of colorful underwear, rifling through them until he held up a black silk and rhinestone-dotted thong at the end of his finger.

“You give off quite the illusion of innocence, don’t you?”

I snatched them out of his hand. “My choice of underwear is none of your business.”

“Consider it my concern over who you choose to wear it for.”

“Also none of your business.” I crouched down and gathered up spilled items, shoving them back into the drawer. There was no point in fighting Trey. I had to go back to Arden Hills, if not to sign over the house then at least for the memorial service. It sickened me to think I’d been so wrapped up in my new life that I’d forgotten all the people I’d lost.

I went back to my closet and pulled clothes off hangers, paying little mind to what I was tossing in my suitcase. When my bag was packed, Trey grabbed it from me and hefted it to the bathroom. Setting the suitcase on the vanity, he opened the cabinet over the sink and swept his hand across the top row, pill bottles raining into the bag. He did the same with the second shelf.

“Anything else you need now that we have the most important things?” he asked, condescension thick.

“I need a few toiletries.” I’d packed the bare necessities for my proposed sleepover at Hayden’s. I wished we’d stayed in his bed. Then I wouldn’t have been here, facing Trey and a past I’d tried to leave behind.

Trey stepped aside, glancing impatiently at his watch as I went about gathering essentials. I wondered if he was worried about Hayden coming back. The selfish part of me wanted him to.

TK meowed at my feet, fur puffed out; her anxiety level matched mine. When I picked her up, her nails dug into my arm, and she hissed at Trey. He gave her a contemptuous scowl.

“TK has to come with me. I can’t leave her here alone,” I said.

“Absolutely not. I’m allergic. That thing is not coming in my car.”

“I’ll drive myself.”

“You’re not getting behind the wheel. You’re barely keeping it together as it is. The last thing I need is for you to cause an accident and end up dead as well.” Trey zipped up my bag and lifted it from the vanity. “You’ll have to leave her here and figure it out later. Maybe your degenerate will take the thing.”

There was a knock at the door. We froze and looked at each other, Trey assessing my next move and me deciding if I could make it to the door before he stopped me. He was at a distinct disadvantage, since he was holding the suitcase. I sprinted down the hall with TK still cradled in my arm. I skidded across the floor, putting my hand out to stop me from hitting the wall. Trey had abandoned the suitcase and was on my heels. I turned the lock and threw the door open in time for it to connect with his face.