Page 49 of The Flesh That Binds Us

“You,” he murmured, lazily running his fingers through my hair as I huffed a small laugh. “And how I think I’m going to love you forever,” he added, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. We were just talking to talk at this point, neither one of us wanting this incredible night to end.

“Forever?” I asked, my heart racing in my chest.

“Forever,” he said without hesitation. I smiled, pressing my face back into his chest.

“Good,” I whispered. “Because I’m not going anywhere.” His arm tightened around me just a little as he peppered a featherlight kiss on my temple.

“I know,” he said quietly. “And neither am I.”

I blinked and Andy Williams crooned “It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year” from the portable radio as Wayne moved his hands through stems underneath the tree. I reached up and clutched the heart pendant, feeling my own heart pounding against my knuckles. For a moment in time, everything was so simple. I loved him, he loved me, and we had the rest of our lives together.

But now?

Now I didn’t know what he felt for me anymore, but I thought it didn't even matter. I wasn't the same girl who he fell in love with—the sad but strong girl who looked up at the stars and wished for something better. I was…broken. A ghost of who I used to be. I…I knew that. Only God and I know what I’ve done to survive, and what I endured to see the next sunrise. But I never stopped loving Jackson. In fact…I was certain that my love for him was what kept me alive this whole time. Because a tiny piece of me still thought he’d burst through the door one day. I just…never thought it would be like this.

“Merry Christmas, Angel.”

I swallowed as Wayne sat down beside me with a newspaper-wrapped box in his hands. For a second, I didn’t move as I stared at the small gift. “You’re not going to take it?” he asked lightly, tilting his head. “I went through the trouble.” My hands felt slow and heavy as I reached out, taking it from him, the paper crinkling loudly in the lounge room. “Go on,” he urged, watching me too closely. “Open it.”

I tore off the paper and found a small, black leather box beneath it. I glanced up and Wayne smiled, nodding towards the gift. I opened the box and inhaled sharply at the pair of red diamond earrings inside. “Oh,” I breathed, the sound slipping out before I could stop it.

“Nice, aren’t they?” Wayne said, almost proud. “Saved up for something proper this year. Thought you deserved it,” he grumbled, taking the box from me and plucking the earrings out.

“Thank you, Wayne…I-I don’t know what to say.” He’d never gotten me gifts from the outside before, let alone one this expensive. Every year, he’d crafted something out of flesh to give to me.

“Wanted to get you something a little fancier this year, darl,” he murmured, tucking a tendril behind my ear, and taking the sleepers I was kidnapped with out of the holes before the cold press of the new earring replaced it, and I flinched slightly as he pushed it through. “Easy,” he muttered, like I was the one being difficult. I clenched my hands in my lap, forcing myself to stay still as he moved to the other side, repeating the motion with the same careful precision.

“There we go,” he said softly, almost satisfied.

I reached up slowly, touching one of them. “They’re beautiful,” I said, because I knew he expected it.

His hand drifted to the edge of my dress, fingers brushing the fabric before they slipped lower, grazing my bare thigh. My breath caught, but I didn’t pull away. “See?” he murmured, voice low and pleased. “Much better. Now c’mere. Give me a kiss.”

Every part of me recoiled. I wanted to shove him hard and sprint back down the stairs. But I knew better, so I ignored the way my body protested as if I was betraying Jackson by leaning forward and connecting our lips. I shut my eyes immediately, willing myself somewhere else, anywhere else.

Wayne groaned against my mouth and hulled my body into his lap. I forced my arms up around his neck, playing the part, my fingers barely touching him, like I could trick myself into thinking I wasn’t really here.

“So fucking beautiful,” he grunted. His hips thrusted, pressing into me, forcing me to feel every second of it. Something inside me screamed as his hands slid over my breasts, squeezing through the thin fabric of my dress like he owned them.

Like he owned me.

A wave of disgust crashed through me so hard, it almost broke through my control. My stomach churned, bile rising sharp in my throat. Ring! Ring! We both jumped when the ringing of the landline echoed throughout the lounge room. Wayne’s grip tightened for a split second before he snarled, “Who the fuck is calling me now?” He roughly shoved me off his body, and I hit the couch as the breath was knocked out of me. I scrambled to sit upright, immediately wrapping my arms around myself like I could hold my body together, like I could cover every place he’d just touched.

“Yeah, nah. Don’t worry about it,” he muttered into the phone, like nothing had just happened. “I can come down now and drop it off, mate. Too easy,” he grumbled down the line as I stood up and moved into the kitchen, trying to hide the way my knees trembled. Wayne’s jaw clenched as he shook his head at me. My skin prickled as the anger radiated off of him in waves.

“You too, yeah. See you in a bit,” he said with a short chuckle, hanging up. Then, without warning, he grabbed the base of the landline and ripped it out of the wall. The crack of plaster splitting echoed through the room, wires tearing free with a harsh, violent snap, dust and fragments scattering over his hands.

“Stupid cunt!” he growled, chucking the phone halfway across the room. I stepped back and clenched my hands into fists, fear locking my body into place. “Who the fuck calls on Christmas to borrow a fucking shovel? Un-fucking-believeable the shit I have to do.” He patted his pockets before moving towards the kitchen counter and snatching his keys up. “I’ll be back soon. Get yourself ready for me,” he said as he brushed past me, opened the front door, and slammed it shut behind him.

I was frozen for a few minutes, looking through the sheer curtains, watching him load the Ute up. The glass blurred after a while, and I didn’t realise my eyes had filled with tears until I blinked and they slid down my cheeks. I wiped at them quickly, dragging in a shaky breath as I forced myself to focus.

I stepped back slowly, like the floor might give me away if I moved too fast, and turned toward the kitchen. The plate was still hidden where I’d left it, tucked away behind the microwave. Three small pieces of pork was all I could save without Wayne getting suspicious of the portions I'd plated from the roast I cooked for dinner. It was cold now, and the vegetables were shrivelled, but I couldn't just leave Jackson down there without any food—even knowing Wayne would kill me for doing it. But Jackson was my…I had to make sure he ate, no matter how cruel and hypocritical it made me for never doing this before.

My hands shook as I picked it up, holding it close to my chest like I could protect it somehow. Like I could make it more than it was. “I’m sorry,” I whispered under my breath, though I didn’t know who I was apologising to anymore. Myself for the danger of the line I was crossing? Or Jackson for giving him less than he deserved?

I crept back toward the hallway, stopping just before the entrance. My eyes flicked to the front door, my heart pounding so loudly, I was sure it would echo through the house. The sound of the Ute faded slowly, tyres crunching against gravel, until there was nothing left but silence.

“Oh, please, God,” I whispered, barely audible as I turned and moved toward the basement door. My body came alive the closer I got. I didn't want to say I was excited to see Jackson, because I wasn't really sure what that meant anymore, but it felt like my skin was itching for me to be close to him. My hand trembled as I turned the handle and pushed the door open, the wood creaking in protest at the movement. I carefully walked down the stairs, the wooden planks groaning beneath my feet as the chain dragged behind me with a soft, sickening scrape that I’d long gotten used to.