Hunting Season (Detective Loki Fanfic)

One

The pitter patter of the rain falling on the windshield was weirdly comforting in it's own way. I was able to focus on the sounds of the tires rolling on the wet road. The rain had been a sense of relatability since today was one of those days. Blue, cloudy, sad. And it was all his fault. We had gotten into a disagreement because I used the wrong laundry detergent in our last laundry load before moving houses. Such a small, useless part of our lives such as laundry had turned my mood into a depressing, sad, anger-ridden aura.  He slapped the shit out of my face when I told him that it wasn't that important. 

"Not that important? You know that detergent gives me a fucking rash. God, you'd be a horrible wife you know?" What a fucking baby. I thought.

We passed by big, beautiful houses with trimmed lawns and clean-cut cars. We drove past what looked like a quaint little family holding casserole dishes and zipping up their coats. The site of them and their peace made me picture a scenario where I was part of such a family. They reeked of happiness. 

I noticed a blond little girl trying to open the door of the big pick up truck in the driveway. 

A woman who looked like her mother said, "Silly girl, we're going right down the street!" with a sweet giggle that warmed my heart. She shot a look at our car and I followed her gaze as we drove past.

We kept driving past houses until we reached a home that was on the right side of the narrow road, at the end of the street. 

And then he spoke again. 

"We're almost here. It's up this block." He said.

I glanced to my left at his stupid fucking face. I had never felt such a strong feeling of hatred until I got with Mark. Or until he got comfortable with being controlling. It was the kind of hatred that you feel in your bones. In the pit of your stomach and in your veins. I hated that I had this feeling. I didn't like to hate. I wanted to love. But it was impossible to love him. 

He got upset when I was too quiet, so I tried to make conversation.

"Mark, why'd you choose such a blue place? Don't you hate the rain?" I sighed. "I'll miss Miami." 

Before I could even get a chance to turn my head to look at him and asked why we stopped abruptly, I felt a closed fist clash with my cheekbone. The shock had ridden me and paralyzed me momentarily.

I was seeing red. I couldn't hit him back, as much as I wanted to. He'd absolutely kill me. I snapped out of my shock and tried to rub my cheek as fast as possible so the blood could flow and it wouldn't bruise as fast. As soon as I looked in the mirror I felt the tears well up. You dumb girl. How could you tolerate this? 

"You ungrateful bitch. I could've left you in that shitty apartment all alone. But no, I chose to waste my time and energy into taking you with me. To a house. A new place . More than you could ever fucking do for me. So don't you ever question my decisions again, you hear me Cass? I'M the man here. Not you." He pointed a nasty finger at me and I flinched. 

And with that, he was back to normal. Like a fucking light switch. As if this was the first time he had ever hit me, I was in complete and utter shock at his mood change. 

He softened his eyes and took my chin in his rough, calloused hand. "You know I don't like to be challenged, Cass. Why do you do this to me? You make me like this." He sighed. "I'm a man, I don't deserve to be in a relationship where I feel like I gotta explain myself and every choice I make." As if that was supposed to make me feel sorry for him.

Neither one of us had noticed, but a black unmarked car had silently rolled in behind us and was stalling. As soon as the driver noticed that we had noticed him, he pulled his car around and drove up next to us.