Less than Perfect, S. J. Evans [classic literature books txt] 📗

“If you promise than I guess I have to try,” he suddenly grinned, but there was no humor in it, only scheming. She knew that he would do something eventually and she could only hope that it wouldn’t be in the near future. “Let’s go, babe.” He let her go and held out his hand to help her up.
She stared at him in bewilderment. She was too angry at him to take his hand so instead she pulled herself up and wobbled away from him, towards the exit of the alley. “I’m not going with you,” she muttered under her breath, holding her burning arms. Her entire upper body was aching from being tossed around so much and she could hardly think straight.
Bryan grinned darkly and chuckled as he caught her arm painfully and slammed her against the alley wall, the action throwing Skye off balance. “You don’t get to choose that.” The venom in his voice chilled her bones and threw her out of concentration.
She had to blink a few times before she could clearly see him and when she saw his eyes she gasped. He was darkly pleased about something and it scared her every nerve. She was pinned between him and the wall again and this time, she didn’t think that she could get out without numerous injuries. “Bryan,” she sobbed, pressing her palms against the moist wall.
He stared into her eyes and chuckled, “I’m sorry babe,” he whispered. That was when he brought her hand into his and slammed it against the sharp brick wall, creating a long gash across her hand.
She cried out and tears poured out of her eyes. She tried to move away but he only took his other hand and pulled her into him, gently sliding his fingers through her hair. “Hush now, I’ve got you.”
Skye couldn’t believe how someone could be twisted enough to think what he had done was alright, but deep inside she couldn’t hate him and she could only try to love him. She didn’t know how entirely bad of a choice it could be. She tried to free her hand but he only held on tighter and she gave up trying. “Please just walk me home.” She begged, her voice croaky and quiet.
“I don’t think I’m ready to walk you home yet, I want something more before so.” He tickled her ears with his breath and pinned both of her hands against the wall.
She didn’t want to think about what he wanted from her, she tried to let her mind drift away into safety, but the only memory that came to her mind was one of Johnny. It was a memory of when Johnny had threatened her and told her that she really wasn’t worth anything but that she was beautiful. In her mind, Johnny could never be more than the twisted psychopath with a bad temper. She would always detest him. Snapping back into reality, she pulled against Bryan’s hands and her lips quivered, she couldn’t speak.
“It’s okay, babe, I’m going to play nice.” He whispered, tracing his lips over her jawline and forcefully kissing her lips.
She tried to pull herself away and tried to turn so that he couldn’t kiss her, but he was vicious and wouldn’t give up—she was trapped. She wanted the night to be over then more than ever and she couldn’t bear to think about how trashed she would look when she arrived home. She could only hope that Leah wouldn’t notice.
He would walk her home, but she was sure that walking home alone would be better than walking with Bryan by now. She couldn’t know if she would be safe around him or not. Deciding it would most likely be the latter.
Skye hurried up to the front door of home, reaching the destination feeling overwhelmingly better. Bryan had walked her home and kissed her goodnight before taking off down the street. She was glad that she was free from him, but she knew that she would have to deal with him later.
After slipping through the front door, closing it, and leaning quietly against it, she noticed that Leah and Johnny were on the couch in the living room, cuddled up together.
She preferred not to watch the two of them together, it always makes her sick. She felt her stomach get restless and her head cloud up just watching them—she needed peace and quiet. Shaking her head slowly, she padded her way up the staircase, taking them two at a time. She needed the shelter of her own room.
The stair floorboards had another plan: creaking beneath her weight and rattling an alarm in the couples’ heads. “Skye, is that you?” Leah said, scrambling off of the couch and around the corner, Johnny following right behind her, his hand on her shoulder. Skye stopped in her tracks for a moment but then with haste hurried up the last few steps. “Wait, how was your,”—Skye hurled herself into her bedroom and slammed the door—“night.” Leah finished, rejection smearing her once excited expression.
Johnny wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into him, comforting her in a hushed tone. He knew that Leah loved Skye too much to let the door slamming not affect her mood. She frowned into Johnny’s. “Will you go talk to her?” She pleaded against him, looking up into his eyes.
He smiled and kissed her forehead. “Of course, sweetheart.” He smiled faintly and headed for Skye’s room.
She had dropped her bags off and fallen onto her bed, sighing. She let the tears slip down her cheeks, ignoring the fact that her mom could go into her room and see her like that—broken and crying. She rolled over and clutched for the blankets, seeking comfort in something

. The blankets muffled the sound but it was only a matter of time for Johnny to barge in on her peace and quiet. Why, no—how, could I let it all get this bad? Bryan used to really love me, now I don’t even know anymore.

She thought in sorrow, sobs muffled through the blankets. She tugged herself toward the top of the bed, gasping and catching her breath. She never thought she could feel so week.
“Skylar? Are you alright?” Johnny’s called for her, his gentle but fake voice shocking her away from her tears.
She scrambled up in bed, suddenly very afraid. “I—I’m fine,” she stammered, her voice crackling with fear. Her eyes were red and puffy and her delicate cheek had turned purple and blue, the sides of the bruise red and swollen.
He opened the door and peered into her room, looking for her. She was sitting cross legged, fighting back the urge to back even further away. “What happened, Skylar?”
She hated how he called her Skylar, it always made her sick. “Nothing.” She spit out, her stomach twisting into knots.
“Why do I not believe you?” He smiled slyly and walked over to the bed, sitting too close to her. She felt very uncomfortable, very frightened. He could get closer in the blink of an eye, and the close that she feared was too personal. “Are you lying to me Skylar?” He scooted himself closer and she retreated as far back into the bed-frame as possible.
“Please back away, I—I can’t,” She stuttered, shutting her eyes as the desperate plead drifted through the increasingly shrinking place of air between them.
“It’s okay Princess, I’m not going to hurt you. Right now,” Johnny let his words hang in the air, piercing Skye’s chest with fear. Her arms were shaking and she tried to hide it, she didn’t want him seeing her fear. She looked down at the bedding, trying to distract herself, but it didn’t work. He touched her chin and tipped it up, forcing her to look into his eyes. His large fingers brushed her lips for a moment and she gagged on her own disgust, sobs bubbling up inside of her again. All of the sudden, he lowered his hands and wrapped his fingers around both of her dainty arms, shoving her to the other side and pinning her against the bed.
He grinned at her darkly, his bright blue eyes piercing her soul. “You have your mom’s eyes, you know? They’re beautiful,” He rubbed a stray tear off her cheek and chuckled. She hadn’t even realized that tears were slipping out of her eyes. “You wouldn’t want her eyes to be forever closed, now would you?” He whispered, the threat sparking her rage and fear.
She shook her head and a stray and helpless sob escaped through her lips—he had threatened her again, and it included Leah again. “No. No, I—I never could.” She whispered, her chest was too tight to project clear words.
Johnny’s lips turned up at the corners and he looked pleased with himself. He squeezed her arms and painfully and chuckled. “Good. You keep everything that has happened now and in the past between us and she’ll always be happy. I mean, you wouldn’t want to hurt her, would you?” He growled and lowered his head so that their faces were only inches apart. She felt invaded and she hated how close of contact he considered perfectly alright.
“It will only be between us, I promise. Just don’t harm her, please.” She whimpered when he let go of her arms and let his hands brush over her sides. She could barely move her arms, pain seared in the place of captivity and she knew it would bruise. I can’t take all of these bruises anymore; someone’s going to notice.

“Excellent,” He backed away and stood up, his sickening grin turning into an expressionless picture, “sleep well, Princess.”
He was gone in a moment’s time, leaving Skye fragile and alone.
She scrambled up and stared at the door blankly. She hardly even realized what all had just happened; all of the night was starting to turn into a haze. She knew that Johnny was only getting worse and that it would only be a matter of time until her next hospital visit.
She was frozen in her own skin, the room slipping away and all of her mind reeling in a memory of the first time she had discovered Johnny’s problems. It was one of the worst days of her life.
She had just gotten home from getting groceries, summer vacation of her eighth-grade year; and when she found Johnny lazing around on the couch kicking back an assortment of beer bottles, he had panicked. He wasn’t supposed to be drinking. Leah hated it when he had alcohol, and she couldn’t stand the stuff, especially if it ever made it in the presence of her daughter.
He had wobbled up to Skye, as drunk as possible, and slapped her hard across the cheek. She backed away instantly and covered her cheek, totally taken aback and in pain. The next move he made involved him picking her up and throwing her delicate body against the wall. She had crumpled over, gasping and gagging, the room swirling with black spots; but he wouldn’t give up, he kept hitting, kicking, and tossing her around until he had practically decapitated her. He had pulled her limp body into his arms and growled at her that it had