chapter 14
1027 Words
đź“– Forbidden Fling: Chapter 14
Aurora’s legs burned as she climbed the stairs to the tiny apartment she’d found on the city’s edge, the faded green paint on the door chipped and peeling. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps as she glanced over her shoulder for the third time, heart hammering.
No Marcus.
No Ben.
No one.
She slipped inside, locking the deadbolt, sliding the chain into place, and leaning against the door, pressing her hand to her chest, trying to slow her racing pulse.
It was a small studio, barely furnished, the mattress on the floor still wrapped in plastic, a cracked mirror leaning against the wall. A single lamp flickered as she turned it on, the bulb buzzing like an insect, bathing the room in weak yellow light.
It wasn’t much.
But it was hers.
---
That night, she couldn’t sleep.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Marcus’s face hovering over her, the way his eyes darkened when he touched her, the way his mouth claimed hers like she was oxygen.
She heard Ben’s laughter in her mind, the softness in his eyes when he looked at her, the gentle way he touched her hair, like she was precious.
And beneath it all, like a stain she couldn’t scrub away, she felt Liam’s hands, rough, bruising, the cold edge in his voice as he whispered that she would always belong to him.
She rolled over on the mattress, pulling the blanket tighter around her, tears slipping down her cheeks into the pillow as the city lights blinked outside the cracked blinds.
Who am I now?
---
Days passed in a blur.
Aurora found a job waiting tables at a late-night diner on the edge of downtown, the kind of place where truckers and drunks came at all hours, the smell of burnt coffee clinging to her hair by the end of each shift.
She liked it.
It was quiet.
She was invisible here.
She wore a baseball cap pulled low over her face, her hair tied in a braid down her back, her makeup minimal, her eyes darting to the door every time it opened.
Waiting.
Fearing.
Hoping.
---
One night after closing, she stepped out into the alley behind the diner, pulling her thin coat tighter around her as the autumn wind bit at her skin. She threw a trash bag into the dumpster, the clatter echoing in the empty night.
That’s when she felt it.
The shift in the air.
The way the hairs on her neck stood up, her breath catching in her throat as her body went rigid.
She turned, slowly, her eyes searching the shadows.
And there he was.
Liam.
Leaning against the brick wall, a cigarette glowing between his fingers, smoke curling around his face like a phantom, his eyes locked on her, cold and hungry.
“Miss me, baby?” he called, his voice like gravel, scraping against her skin.
Aurora took a step back, her heart slamming against her ribs, her mouth dry.
“No,” she whispered, shaking her head.
---
She dropped her bag, turning on her heel and sprinting down the alley, her shoes slapping against the wet pavement, her breath tearing from her lungs as she ran.
She didn’t look back.
She couldn’t.
She burst into the street, cars honking as she darted across, narrowly missing a cab, the driver shouting curses out the window. She stumbled, her knees scraping against the concrete, but she pushed herself up, forcing her legs to keep moving.
She reached her apartment, fumbling with her keys, her hands shaking so badly she dropped them twice, cursing under her breath.
She got the door open just as Liam’s hand slammed against it, shoving it wide, sending her stumbling backward into the room.
The door slammed shut behind him, the deadbolt splintering against the frame.
“Liam, please,” she sobbed, backing away, her hands raised in front of her.
He stepped forward, the streetlight from outside catching the scar across his jaw, the one she remembered from the night she left him.
“Did you really think you could hide from me?” he snarled, grabbing her by the hair, yanking her forward.
---
The days that followed were a nightmare.
Liam kept her locked in the apartment, his moods shifting like storms. One moment he would stroke her hair, telling her he loved her, promising her they could be a family again.
The next, he would scream at her, accusing her of cheating, calling her worthless, slapping her when she tried to argue.
She learned to be quiet.
To wait.
To plan.
Sometimes, when he passed out on the couch, she would crawl into the bathroom, locking the door, sliding down to the floor as she tried to steady her breathing.
Marcus, where are you?
Ben, I’m sorry.
---
One night, Liam passed out cold, the empty vodka bottle rolling across the floor, his snores rattling in the silence.
Aurora’s hands shook as she crawled to her bag, hidden behind the mattress, pulling out the cheap burner phone she had kept hidden in her shoe.
The battery was nearly dead, but she didn’t care.
She scrolled to the only number she knew would answer.
Her thumb hovered over the call button, her breath catching in her throat.
Then she pressed it.
“Hello?”
Marcus’s voice was rough, sleep-heavy, but when she didn’t respond immediately, it sharpened, slicing through the fear that had wrapped around her like chains.
“Aurora?”
She tried to speak, but a sob tore from her throat.
“Aurora, where are you?” he demanded, his voice fierce now.
“Help me,” she whispered, her voice breaking, tears streaming down her face.
“I’m coming,” Marcus growled, the line going dead.
She crawled back into the corner, curling into a ball, staring at Liam’s unconscious form, the rise and fall of his chest, the slight twitch of his fingers as he dreamed.
Please, Marcus. Please find me.
She didn’t know what would happen when he did.
But she knew one thing.
She wouldn’t be Liam’s prisoner anymore.
- Writer
