Eluding Nirvana (The Dark Evoke Series Book 2) (8 page)

“Exactly,” he nodded
with a derange grin spanning his face. “Although the results may have come back clear, you’ll always remember the negative element of the action…”

“I don’t understand what that has to do with you cooking me breakfast, Liam.”
The crease in my brow had become more of a chasm.

A worrying void of unhinged intention stared back at me.
I could see it as clear as day, and I was tumbling down into it. I knew I was going to be broken when I landed. “This is your punishment, Kady, for your insolence last night.”

My punishment?
Wait. So he didn’t cook me breakfast as a loving gesture and from the freewill of his heart, he did it to prove a point? He did it for revenge?

“Liam, I apologized to you last night for offering Laurie’s cousin that job when I had no right to.” Eyes locked as I
jetted my words, I outstretched my arms and encased his hands in mine. “You said it was okay, that I was forgiven. Please, don’t do it this way,” I begged.

“If an animal shits on your upholstery, you punish it––”

“But I’m not an animal, Liam.” And I didn’t like the insinuation.

His eyebrows lifted in the Liam DeLaney-like way, daring me to be defiant. “No? Are you sure? We are all animals, Kady. And you shit over my business last night. That is some
thing I. Will. Not. Tolerate.” he punctuated clearly and I hung my head like a schoolgirl getting rebuked by the Principle as my arms fell away from him. “Eat!” he directed.

Sullen and teary, I inched to the very edge of the
couch and recollected my fork.

“At least next time, you will remember this negativ
e, this consequence for your actions, and you won’t be so inclined to tread that line again, will you, Kady?”

“No, Liam.” I breathed
distantly, all the while picking at the coal in the heart of the dish with the prongs of my fork. When a diminutive gathering was settled on one of the silver prongs, I risked a glance at the man in front of me, watching me intently like some wild cat waiting to pounce. Tears tumbled down my cheeks, splattering and dampening the paper napkin covering my lap.

You can do this, Kady. You can do this. Once it’s done, it’s done.
Not even the mere contemplation of how happy Liam would be if I did what he wanted was able to penetrate the only thought in my mind, which was: this was too damn cruel.

“EAT!” he bellowed
causing my tears to stream quicker. I jolted and promptly wrapped my lips around the fork. All my energy went on blocking out all taste. It was the sheer fact that I had pigs blood in my mouth that was making my stomach roll and lurch.

Dry heaves came again, inundating my body with compressing muscles and a tightening ribcage.
It was when the fork was hastily snatched from my grasp and the edge was used to slice chunks out of the single item which remained on my plate, that I felt the contents of my stomach claw its way back up my throat. The butterflies and repulsion made itself known, and the evil, commandeering look in his eyes told me that there was no way out of this.

He held my jaw in a
grave and sturdy grasp. “Open,” he charged. For the first time ever, I was scared. I felt undiluted fear. And it was my boyfriend, someone to which was supposed to love and protect me, that made me feel it. A potent arm hurtled forward, and without time or the ability to protest, the fork was instantly in my mouth. I wrapped my lips around it as he retracted. Yet, his grasp didn’t fall away from me. My mouth was held firmly shut with his left hand while he repeated his earlier motion, and used the edge of the cutlery to hack off a little extra than what he just stuffed in my mouth, with his opposite hand.

I was choking. My throat wasn’t allowing me to swallow the contents force fed to me, and my stomach was begging to be evacuated as the bitter, grainy taste of the pudding tickled my gag reflex. My ribs strained, my shoulders lurched and my throat
opened to allow the fillings in my stomach to be ousted.

Regardless of the lingering food which my gullet refused to accept, he forced another forkful into my mouth.
“Don’t think that being sick will get you out of this, Kady, because it won’t,” he cautioned while my parched lips were caressed by my tears, leaving a salty tang coating them like gloss.

Diminutive sprays of food and a
garbled rendition of ‘please’, traveled on a sob. But he was unrelenting, he was callous. He was stern and my God, this was by far the most sadistic thing he had ever put me through. A punishment? That was no punishment. It was barbaric. It was inhumane.

I lost count of how many heaves my body spawned. I lost count after
four attempts at convincing him to stop with the ways which were causing me nothing but sheer fear. I lost my fight and conceded to his demands, purely to get the rough treatment over with.

Once my body was cooperative and accepted the final mouthful, I removed the napkin from my lap and curled myself up like a snoozing feline in the leather couch
, as I fought through the heaves my body was still succumbing to.

Through the muffling of my ears, I heard the distant sound of t
he buzzer, informing us of Brittany’s return from the store. “You won’t pull a stunt like that again, will you?” he asked, seeking clarification, his tone and expression completely impassive.

Shaking my head and sniffling back my tears,
Liam trudged with his head held high and a perfectly uncaring posture, through the glass and oak doors into the hall to let my sister in.

In
that moment, I knew that was one punishment I was never going to forget. I knew that the look, the taste and the texture, in conjunction with the power behind his pressurizing ways and demands, would haunt me until my final day.

He was right. I would never push him
to deserve that level of consequence again.

The journey to Logan Airport was made in utter silence. You know the awkward, disturbing silence that loiters in the atmosphere because you had been made to feel inferior when getting punished by someone of authority.

Inferior…it’s an ugly word, a word that no human should be made to feel. We’re supposed to be equa
l, aren’t we?  Never in my life had I experienced such sensation. Each time I opened my mouth in a vain attempt to slice through the stifling atmosphere, Liam would divert his focus from the road ahead, to me and just gape, as though I didn’t have two IQ points to rub together which would result in saying something worth hearing.

And so the journey continued in a nea
r stillness.

A red light brought us to a halt. Sobbing and sniffling echoed from behind me, so I turned in the leather seat a
nd peeked over my left shoulder. Brittany’s head was hanging down. The mass of green hair was separated into braided pigtails. Although her profile was somewhat obscured, I, however, was able to discern the tiny crystal droplet trickling down to settle on the tip of her button nose before relinquishing its grip and splattering onto the back of her knuckles.

The light was still red. Cars behind us bleared their horns, causing Liam to shake his head in exasperation. Not a
single word passed my lips as I unbuckled my seatbelt and pulled the door release.

“Kady, what the fuck are you doing?” I heard Liam ask, his voice becoming
fainter as I slammed the door behind me, placing that barrier between us.

Just a
s the light turned green, I opened the back passenger-side door to slip in beside my sister. I overheard Liam’s heavy sigh and saw his head flail, but I didn’t care. I may have been made to feel substandard compared to him, but I was the rock for my baby sister.

As soon as I clicked the belt into place, my arm instinctively crashed around her shoulder
s, her head went lax and fell into my bosom. “It’ll be okay, Britt,” I reassured her while swaying softly. My fingers gently brushed over her scalp.

Brittany may have
been younger than me by only three years, but I had always been there whenever she needed it. I was her rock, her protector in some ways. I was the one who she cried to if she was hurt or had been hurt, I was the one who always fought in her corner. I wasn’t only her sibling, I was her best friend. I was my sister’s keeper, and the mere fact that I felt she was concealing something from me…it hurt. It really, really hurt.

“I don’t like the idea of you flying in this state, sis,” I voice
d my concern between each rocking motion.

My name
was called from the seat ahead. Familiar green and blue speckled eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. “She has made her decision, Kady. She told you herself she wanted to go back home. Stop making an issue.”

Yes, she did
say that. Nonetheless, I didn’t appreciate being told not to voice my concerns to someone who was my blood. Then again, I didn’t want my concern to spawn a form of guilt in her fragile state. So I shut up and continued to be there to offer support and sympathy to my poorly, green haired, tearstained faced sister.

Brittany didn’t once leave my side at the airport. If I went t
o the bathroom, she was with me. If I moved to the window, she was with me. If I changed seats, she did, too.

The
air was thick between both Liam and her. I didn’t know why. But I couldn’t help quash the secret deliberation that it could have something to do with the reason behind her melancholic bearing.

I inwardly slapped my palm
against my forehead and groaned. Maybe she hooked up with one of Liam’s friends and she’s feeling the shame which often follows a one night stand. Liam did after all mention her man-obsessed brain last night, with the pinching of many asses.

Oh, Brittany, Brittany, Brittany…what am I going to do with you?

A husky voice crackling over the system calling the flight to D.C., brought my back to the land of the living, instead of aimlessly searching for road signs in Marvel Land. Thrusting myself out of the cold, hard metal seat, I swallowed her up in an enormous embrace which I hope reflected how I felt about her early departure. I didn’t want her to go. If I could have, I would have tied her up and took her back home for the rest of her intended stay.

“I love you, Kady.
I’m sorry,” she mumbled into the crook of my neck, and although the striving to recapture a form of strength which Brittany Jenson always had was evident, I still heard her words catch in her throat. I heard the sob and splatter of her very unladylike snot bubble against my turtleneck, and just like that, we were kids again, comforting each other in a midnight thunderstorm.

Unsure as to when I would get the chance to be in her company
again, she gradually drew her body from my arms and I took a moment to study her. Her sapphire eyes were red and sore. Her usual A-list glossy lips were withered and cracked. Her button nose looked raw as she glided the back of her hand over the flesh, catching her sniffles.

I
extended her a tightlipped smile. “It’s not your fault you’re ill. You have nothing to be sorry for, silly.” I rubbed the tops of her denim clad arms. “I love you, too, Britt.”

Turning
her back to me gingerly, she began to walk away when I called out to her. Head craned over her shoulder, her weight being passed through her hip, she gazed under hooded, puffy eyes. “Doesn’t Liam get a hug?” I asked bemused. She’s always so tactile, especially with Liam. She always has been, those two bounced off each other.

Before
giving her a chance to respond, the husky voice called her flight again. Liam was already at my side, his warm arm around my waist. “Don’t worry about it, Britt,” he said, saving her the time to either reply or make her way back to us. “I don’t want to risk getting ill myself, not with work at the moment.”

The arm around my body, and the buoyant voice of my boyfriend had flicked something in her. I could see that. It was unmistakable. Her
eyes had turned as hard as priceless gem, and her lip curled with palpable distaste. She shook her head. Well, I think she shook her head. If she did, then it was so faint I barely noticed.

“Call me when you land,” I ordered.

“Okay. Speak to you soon,” she answered, and continued to make her way past the gate, while I stood stock-still and watched my baby sister until she was out of sight.

Hand in hand, Liam led me to the BMW in the lot.
Considering what had happened during the prior four hours, the connection made me uncomfortable. How he failed to recognize it, I’ll never know. In spite of everything, his hand frequently squeezed and clutched upon my loose grip, while my gaze remained on the grey flooring of the lot as we made our way back to the car.

Lights flashed as he pressed the fob
. My hand had begun to worm its way from his clutch to open the door. When his own hand made contact with the release and he pulled the door open for me, it was fair to say, I was relatively surprised. “After you,” he gestured with a gallantly tip of his head and a smile like butter wouldn’t melt.

“Thank you,” was all I could bring myself to say
within my lingering state of inferiority. Body folded, I lowered myself into the protesting leather and reached back to fumble with the belt before drawing it across my body and clipping into place. The door was already slammed shut and narrowly missed colliding with my elbow upon impact.