Crash (A Billionaire Contract Romance)

Camping With A Monster

I’m not a weak individual.

Really, I’ve dealt with enough emotional and physical pain to be able to stand my own through most anything.

But work… work is, umm, work is rough.

Josh and Tara are the only ones treating me with any form of decency. Josh only because he knows Mason is his employer, therefore he won’t be doing anything that might anger him.

Unless Josh is around to shoot anyone who does or says anything to me, a dirty look, then it’s open season on me.

No one thinks it’s fair I’m still here. They know if they pulled even half of what I did they would be out that door. I’ve heard a few wonders why I even need to work, taking money out of their hands, when I have too much already in mine.

The cooks have been sabotaging my food all morning, “forgetting” a dish, making a plate wrong, putting hot food up where the salads go, the salads under the heater. My fellow servers have been standing in the way of the stations not getting out of the way when I need to grab something.

They haven’t helped take any orders to the table if I’m with a different one. The host is seating me with the worst customers. Every. Single. One. The type Tara and I b***h about, the ones Tara had to warn me about.

Now table after table there are legit issues with food and with the people’s attitudes towards getting the f****d-up food. They don’t admit they like our s**t on a good day. When there is an issue they can take advantage of they’re all over it like pigs in mud.

A few of them recognize me from the engagement announcement photo, they act strangely, not really sure how to treat me. Why am I still working as a lowly waitress, why is Mason allowing me to? Do they give me respect or indifference? I like these tables the best, they aren’t combative, and they accept my apologies for whatever disaster they meet.

I’ve had to apologize more than ever. Smile and allow someone to call me names and degraded me at my place of employment. I’ve been isolated and bullied. I went from feeling like I was flying on Friday to

Monday feeling like I’m back on the underside of someone’s shoe, just getting ground into the floor over and over until I’m more floor than a person.

The door closing behind me brings with it a huge sense of relief. Breathing in deep I mentally rid myself of all their hateful comments, stairs, and manipulations. I got greedy living here, thinking I could run from all my problems, hide like they wouldn’t follow me.

I was wrong.

Stupid. You’re so stupid. Sick chills climb up my spine at the sound of his voice.

Depression is overwhelming and subtle. It’s obvious and hidden. You’re fine but you aren’t. It's loads of contradictions. Holding the world on my shoulders since a young age depression is my second skin.

I know how to put on a smile and act like everything is okay just when I need to.

I’m Humpty Dumpty, no matter how hard anyone tries I can’t be put together again. The crash was too large, too monumental. All my pieces didn’t just break apart, they morphed, never fitting together in their original form.

I’ve been good at holding it all together, keeping it in the back of my head, pushing the depression down, trying my hardest to find any form of happiness, Boston was just that.

I was naive to think I can ever claim happiness.

Tears run a path down my cheek, gentle and desperate. The first time I met Brian I thought he was my chance to get something good, I was lonely and ready to experience what my friends were. I was desperate to find what my grandparents had. It wasn’t until after we graduated high school that I started to realize that maybe he wasn’t all I thought he would be. He invited me to go to this cabin with him and his friends in Alleghany. Everything was good until his friend Zach asked if I wanted a refill.

Brian answered for me “No, we're going to go hang in our room for a while.”

“Lame!” Brian didn’t hesitate to grab my arm, roughly dragging me up out of my seat. I stumbled trying to get my footing so I could follow his fast pace. The rest of “our” friends were looking on with mild curiosity and nothing more.

“Jeez! Brian stop, give me a second!” I hissed at his back, still trying to find a normal pace. He ignored me, my wrist was pulsing with the pressure he has around it. My arm felt like it was being yanked out of its socket.

“Brian!” I said a little louder.

“Shut the f**k up Aria.”

“Excuse me?” That brought me up short, he could be moody, short, and even nasty sometimes but talking to me like that and pulling on me like I’m a rag doll? That was new, unexpected.

He didn’t answer. He waited until we got behind the closed door of our room. He was quick then to let me go, harshly, swinging me through the door only to then release me. My body fell backward, my back hit the corner of the counter, with instant sharp pain.

“Jesus! Oww!” I found my footing for the first time in a minute standing careful of my back, I placed my hand on it protectively. “What is wrong with you?”

“What is wrong with me?” His face was red, his eyes were popping out of their sockets. He was staring at me like my dad does when he’s in one of his drunken rages.

My heart picked up speed, fear was a poison spreading through my body. Shutting my emotions and mind off I just stood still, the less I moved, the less I called attention to myself, the better it was for me.

Dad always let me off the hook sooner when I let him do whatever he felt like. Looking at Brian I knew that was my best plan of action here too.

“I’m not sure why you’re angry.” His jaw was clenched tight, his cheeks were flushed in anger. His whole body was as tense as he slowly approached until his toes were touching mine. I tried moving backward, my hand still cupping my spine, bumped back into the counter. Hissing under my breath, I didn’t dare look into his eyes, all my senses were on high alert. My body was reading his tension and anger, having no doubt that this was only going to get worse.

He grabbed my chin roughly, lifting my face to his. His nose just about kissing mine. “You f*****g Zach, Aria?” His spit hit me in the face, more flashes of this same situation happening but with Dad's hands and his spit flashed before me. The present and past were mixing.

I thought he was different. I thought Grandpa was the standard. That men like grandpa were out there for everyone. I thought Dad was the outlier. I was cursed with him, but I thought Brian was my person. I was wrong, I had it backward.

This right here is all I’ll ever get. Rage and dominance.

“No” my voice was low, my tone was straightforward. I was still trying to walk a fine line, between getting him to hear the truth and not racking the embers of his anger.

“I see the f*****g way you’ve been looking at each other all f*****g day. You are a liar too?” Clearly, that wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“Brian I love you, I don’t want anyone else.” I didn’t see his fist by his side move, I only felt it when it slammed into my stomach, shoving me into the counter, my hand crunched under the pressure. My spine was pulsating in pain, the wind was knocked out of me.

I wanted to slump over, my reflexes forced me to try. Brian pushed me back, shoving my shoulders so I was forced to stand through the excruciating pain. My lungs were screaming, my diaphragm was stuck. He moved his hand from my chin to my hair. He grabbed a handful pulling it back. My scalp would be sore for days after.

“Don’t try and manipulate me b***h. You come here dressing in skin-tight tank tops and short shorts, who the f**k are you trying to impress. Who are you showing off to? Hmm, Aria? I’m not f*****g stupid! I won’t tolerate being lied to or made to look like a fool. That’s what you’ve been doing all day, you know what that means baby?” His voice got too soft and sweet, it reminded me of the sour patch kids commercials.

My hair rose to attention, chills racking my body while I struggled to pull in a full breath. What the f**k was happening? I couldn’t believe I was so wrong about him. How could I have not known who he really was?

I shook my head in response. I wasn’t following his brand of crazy.

“You’re going to accept your punishment. I’m going to make you feel as foolish as you’ve made me.” For the next five minutes, he had me bent over the arm of the chair while he whipped me with his belt. I remember getting lost in my head, retreating as far away as I could to escape the moment and the pain.

I was in shock to find the one person I thought I truly loved and loved me back was a monster.

I thought about leaving him after that, but every time I even tried, he made it abundantly clear that I was his and I wasn’t allowed to leave him. Ever.

I was scared and young and I didn’t believe in myself, my worth, or that the world was ever going to hold a bright spot in it for me.

As the years went on, I learned that my heart would only ever belong to me. My happiness had to be found in my own hands, never dependent on anyone but.

Yet here I am feeling the familiar sting of failure and worthlessness at my own hands.