I can’t deal with this myriad of emotions running amuck. It’s making me crazy and irrational. Standing up, I take a look at myself in the mirror. I never, ever cry. The fact that I’m doing so now is both confusing and startling. The problem becomes blatantly obvious.

Alex.

I was fine until he showed up. I wasn’t happy, but I managed. He makes me feel and question things. Damn him for that! I need to figure out a way to put distance between us. It’s the only thing that will keep me from drowning in the misery of my life.

CALL ME A coward, but I stay in the bathroom until we reach our destination. Once Cal gets on the bus, I leave the small space and feign illness as an excuse to retreat to the bedroom for the rest of the night. Alex’s comments hit too close to home. He’s right about everything he said and I want to punch him for it. The bedroom door opens and closes, but I don’t bother rolling over on the bed to see who it is. I know it’s Cal.

“You know, it’s a shame we haven’t had sex since we’ve been on the road,” Cal says. The mattress dips beside me from his weight.

Shoving my thoughts to the back of my brain, I turn over to face him and put my game face on. “I know, but it’s not like we’ve had much privacy lately.” My mouth forms a sexy little pout to make it seem like I’m disappointed.

“We wouldn’t have a problem if you weren’t so vocal,” he says in a smug tone. The urge to roll my eyes is strong. Can he really not tell that I fake it each and every time? “But you know what doesn’t require any noise from you?”

I’m hesitant to respond, knowing exactly where this is going. “What?” I finally choke out, playing into his little game.

“A blow job.” He lays down on the bed next to me and places his hands behind his head, looking at me expectantly.

My mind goes over my options several times, knowing the right one is to give in and get it over with. But for some reason, I just can’t muster up enough energy to fake this. “I’m sorry, Cal, but I’m really not feeling well right now.” My hand runs gently down his chest, hoping to ease the sting of my refusal.

“I wasn’t asking, Elizabeth.” His eyes are cold as they stare into me, completely detached of emotion. My only response is to blink. Surely he can’t be implying what I think he is. “Get over here and give me head,” he demands. I’m stunned into silence and frozen in my spot. When I don’t move he says, “I will not tell you again.” The finality in his voice scares me. He’s never talked to me like this before and, quite frankly, I’m frightened. If I tell him no again, will he force me? Part of me says no way. He wouldn’t make me do something like that against my will. The other part takes in his hard, disconnected reaction and knows that he would. My throat clogs with emotion realizing that I can get up and do it with a little bit of dignity intact, or he could very well force me and make it ten times worse than it already is.

I sit up and move down to his lower half. Sitting back on my knees, I unzip his pants and release his already erect penis. The sight of it makes me cringe. God, I don’t want to do this right now. My eyes glance up at Cal where he raises an eyebrow as if to say, ‘Get on with it.’ So I do. I take the base of his cock in my hand and bring my mouth to the tip before taking him all the way in. There will be no messing around or teasing; I just want to get this over with quickly. I work him fast and hard like he likes it, bobbing my head up and down as fast as I can.

“That’s right, baby. You take that cock, you dirty little whore.” He grabs the back of my head and pushes down as he thrusts up. My gag reflexes kick in as he hits the back of my throat with each push. My jaw tightens trying to reject the intrusion. “Don’t you ever deny me again, you understand? Fucking whores like you love the cock,” he says through gritted teeth. Tears spring to my eyes as he continues to punish my mouth over and over. I’m trying to pull back slightly to ease the ache in my jaw, but he won’t let up. A slew of curse words, rants, and names are thrown out at me.

Bitch. Suck it harder. Fuck. Deeper. Slut.

He makes sure to take every ounce of his pleasure from me. Squeezing my eyes shut, unshed tears spill over and run down my cheeks. In this moment, I feel something I haven’t felt before, and it’s all-consuming.

Hate.

I’ve never been in love with him, but tonight I fucking hate Cal.

“Open your eyes now,” he barks out at me. I comply and don’t try to hide the rage burning within them. I stare into his eyes as he slams into my mouth over and over again. The sad thing is I think my anger and apparent resentment turns him on. Within a handful of seconds I feel him tensing. “You’re going to swallow every last drop. Just like a good little slut.” I do as I’m told as fast as I can, not wanting his taste to linger on my tongue any longer than it has to. He pats the top of my head like a fucking dog and says, “Good job, babe,” and then walks off toward the bathroom.

I crawl over to my side of the bed and collapse into my pillow. After a few moments, I notice the pillow feels wet. That’s when I notice that an endless stream of tears has been falling from my eyes. Never in my life have I felt so cheap, used, broken . . .

Violated.

My stomach starts to revolt as my mind flashes back to what just happened. I start to dry heave so I spring up from the bed and run into the other bathroom on the bus. Without a second to spare, I fall to my knees and empty all the contents of my stomach. When there’s nothing left, I continue to gag and dry heave, eager to remove every last bit of him from my body. My body is exhausted, drained, and sore from my violent vomiting. I lean back against the wall and wipe my mouth with my arm and begin to weep quietly. My arms are placed on top of my knees which are drawn into my body, my head resting on my arms as my body shakes from my restrained sobs.

A light knock on the door causes me to stop breathing. I place a hand over my mouth to help silence the noise I’m making. Fear and dread roll through my body at the thought of Cal being on the other side of that door.

“Elizabeth?” Alex asks quietly. I breathe out in relief but anxiety soon takes over. I can’t let him see me like this. He already knows me too well and in my vulnerable state I won’t be able to lie to him. My internal panic is cut short when the door opens slowly. My eyes immediately cast downward, trying to delay the inevitable for as long as possible. Alex crouches down in front of me and places his finger gently under my chin before lifting it up. I know all of my raw emotions are displayed across my face. I’m simply too tired to try to mask it this time. “Jesus, what happened?”

I study him seeing nothing but concern and worry etched in the planes of his face. From the furrow in his eyebrow, to the frantic way his eyes search my face, I know me not answering is killing him. Closing my eyes, I press my lips together and shake my head several times hoping that he understands that I can’t talk about this. He brushes the hair that’s caked to my cheek away from my face. “That’s okay, you don’t have to talk right now if you don’t want to, sweetheart.”

When I open my eyes, I don’t know what comes over me. I launch myself at him and hold on to him, trying desperately to soak in any bit of comfort I can. It doesn’t take long for him to react. His strong arms wrap around my body and hold me tight. He’s not here with me right now for any other motive, he’s here because he actually cares about me. The realization brings on the waterworks again despite my best efforts to hold them off. I bury my face in his neck and begin to sob again.

“Shhh, it’s going to be okay. I’m right here. I’ve got you,” he says softly into my ear. He sits back against the cabinets, never letting me go. I’m curled up in his lap, clutching onto him like a lifeline as he slowly sways us back and forth while whispering words of comfort. I’m not sure how long we sit here, but my tears eventually dry and I know I need to get back to the bedroom. If Cal isn’t asleep already, he’s going to wonder where the hell I’ve been and why.