Chapter 3 Pain

By the time Nia arrived home, the evening sun had already begun to mold long shadows on the ground, giving a warm orange tinge to the sky.

Upon her entrance into the two-floor apartment, Vincent who sat comfortably on the davenport craned his neck towards her direction and when his dark set of green orbs settled on her honey ones, she felt a repulsing tinge of sensation creep into her skin.

"What took you so long?." He demanded, tucking away his pack of cigarettes and getting up, all the while showcasing the full view of his lean body and chiseled chest as he took slow steps towards the refrigerator and reached inside for his third bottle of beer.

Nia closed her eyes and held them that way, not for a very long but still more than a blink, and when she had managed to push the feeling of slight prickling shame in her chest away, she spoke. "I lost the baby."

Silence fell.

But it had only lasted for a few seconds because Vincent slammed the refrigerator door shut with a hard bang and stayed still before turning to send her a sorry look which Nia thought was ironically the least he could do after kicking her child out of her womb.

"Well," he cleared his throat. "What did Isobel have so say about it?"

"She suspects... You're hitting me again." She answered, quite sure that he was waiting for a more detailed explanation but she didn't want to offer one.

"And what did you tell her?"

"I told her you weren't."

"Did she believe you?"

"I-I don't know,"

"Of course you wouldn't. So stupid." He muttered and then groaned out frustratingly. "If that damn doctor keeps snooping around my business I might have to change her." He sighed, raked a hand through his jet black hair, and turned to look at her. "Well, now that you're back, make me dinner."

Nia looked up at him, despair in her eyes. She hadn't expected a sincere apology, it was unlike Vincent to give one but the slightest show of remorse would've made her heart hurt less.

With mixed emotions, she tightened the clutch on her bag, squeezing till her knuckles turned white and when she didn't move for almost a minute, Vincent raised his brows at her. "Didn't you hear me? I said make me dinner."

"Aren't you even going to apologize?" At this point, her eyes had begun to turn red from the angry tears that burned them but Vincent didn't care.

"I'm sorry," he said flatly, nonchalantly, not caring to hide his disinterest. "Now make me dinner." He repeated, sounding it clear that he was not going to recount those words the third time but Nia still didn't move.

"I just lost my baby, our baby, our third child-gone because you... Do you even care?"

Vincent was silent. He stared at her for a full ten seconds, trying to ascertain if she was playing stubborn or just dumb. And then he scoffed, a blank expression washing over his eyes. "Stop acting like you're the victim here. If you weren't such a pathetic slob that wouldn't have happened so cut the beady bullshit and get your dry ass inside the kitchen."

"No."

Those words,

They flew out of her mouth before she could stop them and the second they did, she regretted it because now, his lips twisted into an angry snarl and his piercing eyes sent daggers her way.

"What did you say?" He asked, jaw thrusting forward with indignation, and as he spoke, he took predatory steps closer to her.

"N-noth-ing." Nia stuttered, retreating backward in an attempt to make a break for the stairs but he was fast and before she could blink, he grabbed ahold of her, slamming her against the nearest wall, so hard that the air in her lungs suddenly diminished and her vision blurred at the rapid spread of searing pain.

It didn't end there.

As she made an incisive attempt to crawl away from him, he connected his foot with my stomach, sending her back to the ground with tears streaming down both edges of her eyes but she didn't scream. Even if the pain felt like death she knew better though than to make any noise.

Vincent crouched down beside her and grabbed her hair. "Look at me," he demanded, yanking back her hair strands and forcing her entire head to tilt backward. "Why do you always have to be a miserable little witch!" he cursed, slapping her across the face, and although Nia had earlier anticipated it, she couldn't help the fresh set of tears that simmered down her eyes.

"I-I'm sorry," she whispered, her vision blurring with unshed tears.

Vincent sighed. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood today." He said, still holding her hair. "But the next time you disobey my orders, I'll force-feed you enough pills to kill you and then make your death look like the suicide of a selfish black whore who cheated on her husband and couldn't live her sin." He paused a moment to let his words sink in. "Got it?"

Seemingly losing the ability to speak, Nia nodded with forced eagerness.

"Good," he let go of her hair, dragged her out of the living room, and flung her face down onto the kitchen floor. "Now get on your fucking feet and make me something to eat."

"Y-Yes, sir."