VIOLENCE

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WORST.

DATE.

EVER.

Of course, none of it had anything to do with you. You were as perfect as a god, Joe, and if I could I'd relive our time in the bar every night in my dreams. No, you were excellent, we were excellent. Within our own little world, the rest of Vintage could have disappeared with a dramatic collapse of dust and neither of us would have noticed. You were perfect. I love your smile. Did you know you have a snaggletooth on the left side? It's so cute.

Outside intervention brought me to my opinion, and I'm sure you have the same thoughts. I knew we shouldn't have left the bar to go to my apartment, we should have simply ended the night and agreed to see each other tomorrow.

Alas, I was horny.

I should of noticed the warning signs, the drops of blood in the hallway leading to my apartment, the distant noise of shouts as we made out in the lobby. Normally, I'm not so unobservant, but you have a way of making me feel...sedated. Like every kiss is a shot of heroin. I'm usually good at keeping my two worlds separate, but with you...

I cheekily led the way to my door, walking backwards as I held both of your hands in mine. We were grinning at each other, bubbling with glee and laughter and god fucking dammit why did everything have to go to shit?

You heard it first. The sounds of abuse. You must have heard something similar before in your lifetime, or else the bang of furniture and yells, mostly a man's, wouldn't have phased you so severely. Most people wouldn't have even noticed, but with you it was like a siren went off. What happened, Joe?

Your smile faded, chocolate eyes drifted from mine and you glanced around. You became alert, your jaw creased as it tightened. I should of led you out the door, but thinking back I don't think you would have went. You look down at me. "Do you hear that?"

"What?" My stupid ass was still high on affection, and I pressed my chest against yours and hooked my arms around your waist. I kissed you neck, felt your pulse under my teeth like I wanted to bite into it. Maybe I would have, if you're into that sort of thing. "Kiss me, Joe."

A grunt, a crash, and a scream. In that exact order. It was loud enough that it momentarily broke me from my clouded daze, and I pulled away from you to glance at my apartment door down the hall, immediately fearing the worst. Charlie must have came. Charlie must be angry. Fear lit up my nerves originally electrified by love.

"I think it's coming from the last door on the left," you observed. Then you glanced at me. "Is that your apartment?"

Charlie. Charlie's in there. Charlie has a gun. Charlie has a knife. Charlie has a flamethrower and wants to burn this entire fucking building to the ground. Charlie is here. Charlie is here, and everyone is about to die.

Another crash, something glass breaking against the wall. A frightened squeal, Hannah's no doubt, followed by an intimidating shout: "You fucking whore!"

I almost collapsed, but you noticed and held me by the waist, hands over my hipbones. That wasn't Charlie's voice, low and scruffy with a slight drawl. That was someone else, another man. Not Charlie. Not Charlie. I closed my eyes and try to even my breathing again. Oh my fucking god.

"Liam, please! I love you!"

Charlie wasn't there, I no longer had to fear the worst. I can return to the situation at hand, and this time I recognized the female's voice as my best friend. I was right, Hannah was in there.

"Brit, is that your apartment?" You repeated, this time urgently.

I began a dash down the hall. You followed after me, yelling to wait and normally I would have but my legs were reacting on their own, I couldn't stop if I wanted to. Hannah's in there, no doubt the image of a battered woman, and this isn't the first time and Charlie isn't in there and my swell of relief shifts to furious anger. I banged on the door you pointed out, yes Joe that was my apartment, and I shouted in seething wrath and my voice is daunting and loud and for a moment, I surprised myself by forgetting you were there. I assaulted the wooden door with my fist and things on the other side go eerily silent. "HANNAH? OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!"

You grabbed my shoulders and turned me around, your eyes are owlish and alert and completely focused, it was almost startling at first glance. You ask one question: "What do you want me to do?"

"Break down the door."

You set me aside and kicked in the door until the lock broke and it fell loose on its hinges, slamming against the wall. God, Joe. You're so strong. I would have fucking attacked you in the best way possible if I had the chance.

Liam sat alone on the couch, watching TV with a beer in his hand. His knuckles were red. His face was an emotionless mask.

I lunged at him, "Where is she?!" I go for his throat. Liam was watching me and he immediately lit into action and grabbed my own neck, pressing my head against the seat of the couch and choking me. He was growling his own threats, drool seeping passed his teeth and into my hair. "You stupid sluts you dirty stupid fucking whores you-"

You punched him in the face so hard, not only did he let me go but he also fell off the couch and onto the floor. You towered over him with hell in your eyes and for a second even I was afraid of you. "If you ever touch her again, I'll kill you."

Awh, Joe.

"Where the fuck is Hannah?" I demanded, standing beside you and we were a fucking power couple, two deities ready to inflict pain upon sinners. We're badass, Joe. Mr. and Mrs. Smith badass.

He was bleeding from the mouth, but he still managed to give a crude grin. He spat blood at your shoes. "You motherfucker."

You kicked him in the ribs, Liam curled into a ball and Hannah ran out of the bedroom. I immediately went to her. She has a black eye, bruised and puffy lip. She's screaming at you to stop but you didn't, you kept kicking Liam and he's coughing blood and I could tell by your face that you liked what you're doing. You like violence, Joe. On the outside you're collected and normal, but on the inside you're a fucking savage.

I'm into it.

Hannah shoved you and you fell into me. We stumbled, you held onto my waist for support. Hannah went to Liam's side, touching his hair.

You were snarling with rage. "Get this asshole out of here."

"Okay, okay! Liam, c'mon babe-"

"Fuckin' prick," Liam slurred as Hannah walked him to the door, grabbing her car keys on the way.

Once it's just us, you turned to me with a heavy sigh. "Are you okay?"

I clutched your arm. Wounded deer. You bite. "I'm a little shaken, would you stay here for a little longer?"

I should've never fucking asked that question. After this moment, the night really falls to shit. Worst. Date. Ever.

You sign my doom with a smile. "Of course."

HIM .. Joe GoldbergWhere stories live. Discover now