A Night Of Sin

Sometimes, I wondered when I'd finally break loose from this vicious cycle of abuse. It usually happens in four stages.

He'd get angry over a slight issue and beat my brains out. I would refuse to respond to his texts nor pick his calls. He'd come over to my apartment with a banquet of flowers promising and begging never to lay a finger on me. And then, I'd accept him.

I couldn't let go of him. Atleast, not now. Not when he was paying for my mother's treatment which I couldn't afford.

"Fucking slut!" He cursed. I have never been shot or stabbed before but the insults that spewed from Jake's lips-each time we had a disagreement, usually gave me a good idea on how either of those would feel.

"No, you don't get-" I tried to explain to him before he cut me off.

"You probably think I'm dumb!" He barked, his blue eyes smouldering with anger, burning brighter than ever.

"He only asked if I was the waitress he saw the other day-"

"Then you started smiling at him . . ." He trailed off, running his finger through his dishevelled jet black hair.

"It was just a friendly smile," I defended, shrugging my shoulders tiredly. Before I knew it, his coarse palm collided with my delicate cheeks violently, the force jerking my face in another direction. I held my cheeks, staring at the tiles.

"The fact that you fucking little bitch think you can challenge me after I've caught you in your promiscuous ways is appalling." He said, walking towards me and I began to move backwards in fear until I had gotten to the end of the wall.

He held my neck tightly, strangling it. I could feel life squeezing out of me as I struggled to croak out words of plea, hoping he'd listen to me.

"Look at the way he was smiling. . . looking at you lustfully and you were letting him stare at you." He enunciated every syllable when he got to 'lustfully' and tears streamed down my cheeks.

"P-please," I croaked out.

Thankfully, he let go of me.

I took in ragged breaths and coughed. Soon, he held my arm and his lucid eyes formed into a contrite expression and he started uttering his usual words of apology. "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me." He scratched the back of his neck then ran his fingers through his hair. I averted my gaze and wiggled my arm from his hold.

"Please, I'm sorry baby."

"For what?" I asked, and touched my aching throat.

"I'll just let you calm down but come to the room when you're ready to talk." He said calmly, before heading towards his room.

I wondered how long I'd continue like this with him and if his case was a mental illness. Ofcourse, I'd leave him after he has finished paying for Mom's treatment or when I no longer need his financial support. Even though I held on to him because of the financial support I got from him, I was worried about the girl that would date him after me. She would go through hell; nobody deserved that.

I grabbed my phone from the leather handbag I usually carried whenever I went to work; It matched with my uniform. I texted Amy, my best friend.

Me: Girl, he strangled me and accused me of cheating again.

Her reply came in almost immediately.

Amy: Isn't he tired of that? You should come home already.

I replied as soon as I saw her text.

Me: Maybe you should ask him and yeah, I'll come home soon.

I kept my phone in my bag and retrieved my handkerchief and wiped my face. I wanted to head home without informing him and then the doorbell rang. On opening the door, I saw a caramel skinned girl dressed all back, probably in her early twenties with blonde frizzy curls and dark shades which gave her a formidable appearance.

It occured to me that I had never met any of Jake's siblings in the past months that we had been dating. I assumed she was Jake's sister because he once told me that he doesn't have any female friends.

"Hey," I greeted, smiling while stretching out my hand for a handshake.

She gave me a withering look, frowning. "Who are you?" She questioned, raising a curious brow at me and I withdrew my hand still wearing a beautiful smile on my face. I hoped it was contagious.

"I'm Leila, Jake's girlfriend." I replied, beaming.

The girl let out a bitter chuckle. "Wow, so you're the slut who has been having an affair with my boyfriend." I didn't know if it was a question or not but she raised a curious brow at me, then continued. "And you dare open your lousy mouth to call yourself his girlfriend?"

My heartbeat raced at the mention of that word: Slut. I clutched my purse tightly with one hand, the other fist clenching as anger coursed through my veins.

"Excuse me, who are you?" I asked, surprised. She ignored me, pushing past my shoulder as she made her way into Jake's apartment.

"Baby," she called out and Jake rushed in, eyes wide. I stood there, watching them through the door that was ajar.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her in a frantic tone. "This is my boyfriend's house, am I not allowed to come here anymore?" She asked, jokingly while throwing her hands around his tensed shoulders and he pushed her away, peeking through the house to check if I was still around.

His blue eyes met my cold stare, and his face morphed into a sober expression. "It's not what it looks like." He said and I bent down to pick my bag that had fallen when she called him 'baby'.

"In my presence you're still trying to explain to your slut?" The stupid blondie asked him angrily. The wave of anger that crashed on me manifested in my actions as I walked into the house and gave her a resounding warning of her life.

Unfazed, I faced her specifically, "Apparently, you are the slut. If he had you already, then why did he go after me?"