Stockholm (Bryson Tiller)

53• The Masochist

He had a fist full of my hair and asked who I was on the phone with. Tears formed in my eyes due to the burning sensation on my head, his grip was so tight I could hear my hair getting pulled out of my head. It sounded almost like tape being pulled off a roll and it made me sick to my stomach.

"Please let go." I begged. "I can't answer you when-" I winced in pain as I automatically got a migraine. He's always targeted my head, I'm surprised I'm still alive with the number of times he's bashed my head into something and hit me.

He let go with a forceful push and I fell onto the floor. He climbed on top of me and asked again.

"Who were you talking to, Taylor!? I swear to god if you lie to me I'll kill whoever it was then the both of us. Who were you on the phone with!?"

"Telemarketing..." I said breathlessly. "I was on the phone with telemarketers."

The anger left his face. He looked regretful and ready to burst out in tears. Bryson picked up the phone, checked the call log and saw that it said 'Out of Area'. He tossed the phone on the couch and picked me up over his shoulder. Bryson didn't say anything for the rest of the day.

• April 5, Monday •
• 12:34 p.m •

I woke up at an unusual time. Bryson wasn't home so I had the whole place to myself for however long. He didn't leave a note or anything, he most likely feels like shit about what happened yesterday, as he should.
As of right now, I feel at peace despite the pounding headache I have currently. My mind is still on the phone call I got yesterday. It had to be Xavier, the voice was too familiar for it to not be him and his voice is the only voice I know other than Bryson's. I thought long and hard about the voice I heard and kept second guessing it.

His voice isn't that deep.

Couldn't have been him.

Is it someone from my past.

What if it's one of Bryson's goons?

Is it a set up?

I jumped at the sound of the front door opening. This man has the power to plant paranoia in your mind permanently.

"Hey baby..." Bryson said dryly.

I looked at him and turned away.

"Baby..." He cooed while slipping into the spot next to me. "You mad at me?"

My face began to heat up at that dumbass question. I inhaled, then exhaled.

"Got my answer." He scratched the back of his neck.

I scanned the room for something to knock him out with. Next to the fireplace are tools hanging on the rack that looked my giant forks.

It's too far from where I'm sitting. I need a strategy. My lingerie just came it, I saw the box in Bryson's hand.

"Here's whatever you ordered." He handed the box over. "Usually I'd go through it and see if it's okay for you to have but I owe you this. It's not opened or anything. I'm sorry baby. So sorry."

I took the box without a word.

"Taylor please say something to-"

I cut him off. "Do you have work tomorrow?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Ok." I said in almost a whisper.

He frowned. "You're sad I'm gonna be gone for a little bit?"

"Yeah..." I lied.

He sat me on his lap and kissed my cheek.

"I'm never gonna leave you." He smiled. I felt his smirk on my neck as he was kissing around there. "You'd have to kill me to make that happen. Even so, I'll be still here by your side in spirit. I'll never leave you."

That's the plan Bryson. To kill you so you can never hurt me ever again.