Proving A Point

Chapter Twenty Seven

Whoa that was ALOT to take in one chapter...what did you think?! Here is your update!<3
———————————

"What are these scars on your back from?" He asked me once more while I laid there frozen. My heart was racing in my chest. What in the hell do I say? I sat up and started looking for my clothes. I grabbed my underwear and slid them back on and I grabbed my bra and hooked it adjusting the straps. Tears brimmed my eyes and started to spill down my face. How could I have forgotten that they were there, burned into my back?

"Dammit Erika please talk to me!" He jumped up from the bed and quickly put his underwear and jeans on but left them unbuttoned and closed the distance between us.

"I can't!" I cried a sob escaped my lips. Why I was crying I didn't know. Maybe it's because of the look on his face, it was like he knew the truth but wanted me to say it but I didn't want to. I didn't want him to know because I didn't want him to look at me differently.

I pulled at the messed up sheets desperately trying to find my clothes.

"Why not?" He asked as he sat on the edge of the bed with his hands on his knees, his eyes held so many emotions which only made me cry harder. Just minutes ago I was so happy and content but now I was a blubbering mess.

He grabbed both of my wrists gently and pulled me into his chest.

"Barbie please talk to me." He begged and put my wrists against his chest.

"What part of I can't did you not understand?" I snapped and tried to yank my wrists free but he held them against his chest firmly. I could feel his rapid heartbeat under my hands.

"You can tell me anything Erika. Someone hurt you...." He clinched his eyes shut for a second and took a few deep breaths before he opened them again. His eyes were at least three shades darker than usual.

"What happened? Who hurt you?" He asked his tone pleading and I knew I couldn't keep it from him anymore he wouldn't give up until I cracked.

I stood there not moving with my hands on his chest and finally the tears stopped as we sat there in silence.

"Steve." I mumbled quietly I wasn't even sure he heard me at first.

"I figured." He nodded as if I confirmed what he was already thinking.

"Tell me what happened." He whispered and I moved and sat on the bed right beside him since he still had my hands in his.

"It started when I was fifteen. Work took a turn for the worse for him. He was coming home in the worst moods so he turned towards alcohol but that only helped so much. One day I made a mess in the kitchen and he told me to take my shirt off-" I started to explain, taking a deep breath and reliving the beginning of when this all started.

"Did he force himself on you?" Dakota asked, his voice laced with venom and his whole body tensed.

"God no!" I blustered and shook my head violently and relief filled his eyes and his visually calmed down slightly.

"He lit a cigarette and smoked a few drags and then put it out on my back. Then he lit another and put it out next to the first one and then he did it again." I looked away, the pain in Dakotas eyes was too much for me to bare to see.

"This isn't just from one time is it?" He asked and I shook my head no.

"How many times?" He asked and honestly I didn't know the exact number I lost count after twenty.

"I don't know." I looked away as tears started to fill my eyes again.

"Ballpark estimate, how many times?" He asked and I took a deep breath and then exhaled.

"Twenty five? Thirty? I don't know Dakota." I yanked my arms from his loosened hold. His eyes turned pitch black with anger but he said nothing for a little while.

"Is that all he has done to you?" He asked after he seemed to calm down a little bit.

"Mostly yes except the last time." I mumbled, the time that Dakota accused me of sleeping with his dad, the worst it ever was.

"Is that why you had a busted lip and your cheek had a huge gash on it?" He asked as his brain was putting the pieces together.

"Yes." I refused to meet his pleading eyes, I couldn't. I wouldn't.

"Tell me what happened."

"No." I shook my head violently.

"Erika please." He whispered and my heart panged at the sound of his tone, this was too much for me.

"It was the night you and you dad came over for dinner." I whispered after at least five minutes of neither of us saying a word. He stared at me intently waiting for me to talk, ready to listen.

"He beat the shit out of you because of me." His voice cracked and the hurt in his voice and the pain in his eyes was too much.

"No!" I gasped. I hated that he was blaming himself, I didn't. There was no way of him knowing what went on at my house.

"What happened?" He asked wanting the full story but I didn't want to tell him but I did anyways. When I was done he sat there speechless.

"So that's why you moved in with Chelsea."

"Yeah." I nodded and put my shirt and jeans back on adjusting them as I did.

"Erika I'm so sorry." He apologized, seeing this side of him made my heart hurt. It made me relive everything I've endured and this way worse than the actual burns themselves.

"Don't be! It's not your fault! I don't want you to look at me like I'm some fragile time bomb Dakota." I snapped growing irritated, I knew I shouldn't have told him but no I just had to give in to him and his begging grayish blue eyes.

"But that night it was my fault! I shouldn't have assumed that you slept with my dad!" He jumped up from the bed and stared to pace around his apartment.

"This is exactly why I didn't want to tell you! This is why Chelsea is the only person who knows the truth Dakota! I want to move on from that part of my life. I don't want your sympathy or pity. I'm stronger than you may think, I've been through shit most people never go through but I came out on top. I don't want you tip toeing around me just be real with me that's all I ask."

"You're definitely stronger than I thought Barbie but I can handle that." He offered a small smile for the first time since I told him the truth. Honestly it felt good that I told him, it was like a weight was lifted off of my chest and that we didn't have any secrets anymore, everything was laid out in the open.

I'd opened myself up to him and given myself to him in every possible way. I wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bag thing but there was no going back now, I'm hooked.