Trigger Warning: Domestic Violence
His blood was racing when the front door opened. He knew exactly who it was and, while he’d usually be happy to see her, he had a sneaking suspicion that she had been up to something that he would not like. Spencer didn’t like Emily spending time with the Simmons, at all. Julie, despite being his girlfriend’s best friend, was an annoying bitch who was constantly judging his relationship with the blonde. The rest of the family was pathetic, but his real problem rested with one of the twins. Physically, he couldn’t tell one from the other. He’d have a hard time pointing Luke out if it weren’t for the constant look of pining in his eyes, directed for the only girl who was, without a doubt, spoken for.
Spencer found the older Simmons’ crush on his girlfriend both pitiful and infuriating. It didn’t help that the sickeningly loud rumor mill never stopped spitting out stories of affairs between the two. Often, Spencer could get through it, knowing that Emily would never do such a thing to him. She’d never hurt him, because, if she did, he’d hurt her, worse, and they both knew it.
They’d talked about Emily going to Julie’s after school in their last class together, but the conversation was brief and Spencer wasn’t given the chance to argue it. That frustrated him, so, when he got home, he cleared his mind in the best way he could think of.
He wouldn’t have an addiction if it weren’t for his mother, but instead of holding that against her, he saw it as something that brought them closer together. Not many sixteen-year-old boys could sit on the couch with their mom, shooting up, together. His mom was different, and he loved that. She introduced him to heroin, sure, but she also let him embrace the dangerous addiction without putting boundaries on him. Most days, when Emily wasn’t around, he’d go over to the house he grew up in to spend the time getting high with his mother. Today, though, he gotinto the small stash he kept in his apartment.
After his injection, time slowed and, while his body felt like it was moving faster than humanly possible, he had to wait alone for Emily to get home. As each minute passed, his blood grew hotter. He became angrier. At first, he was unable to identify an exact reason for the temper, but as the time passed, he had come up with enough crazy ideas to become furious, and all of them had to do with the same girl that was finally walking in.
He looked at her with what felt like narrow eyes, though he couldn’t be sure exactly what he looked like to her, or anyone else, for that matter. “You’ve been gone for hours,” he said, his voice stern, with just a slight whine to it, that only a trained ear would be able to catch.
“Julie ended up being busy when I first got there, so I hung out with Luke.” Spencer rolled his eyes at her. “What?” she asked. “He’s my friend. It’s not like I’m going to run away with him.” A small voice in his head told him that she was most likely kidding, but that voice was easily drowned out by his drug-induced rage. That was, after all, exactly what he’d been worried about. So often, Spencer had to hear rumors that were mainly focused on Emily and all of the other alleged people she was seeing behind his back. It was enough to drive anyone crazy, but his addiction definitely fueled the fire. With a bad temper off of the drugs, he could hardly contain his own body as it leaped from the seat he’d had on the couch.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he asked, incredulously. His eyes grew wide.
“Spence, I’m kidding.”
He hated the tone of her voice. He hated that she wasn’t riled up like he was. He hated that he couldn’t be sure if she was kidding, or not. He hated so much about her, in that moment. He threw his body forward and, in one, swift movement, he had his hand around her neck. With a tight grip on her, he pulled her face towards his. He brought his nose to her mouth and took a deep breath in, in an attempt to smell some physical proof that another pair of lips had been on hers. Her tone quickly changed; her attitude completely different than the somewhat sassy one she’d come home with. A small noise escaped her.
He looked at her. Even scared, she was beautiful. It was obvious why other men would be interested in her. “Whore,” he growled, pushing her back, and letting go of his hold on her. Her body landed against the wall behind her with a small thud. He turned away from her, unable to look at the girl that he was so convinced was unclean.
“What the fuck is your problem?” she yelled, sounding more confused than anything. He paused. Ignoring her tone, he slowly turned.
He raised his eyebrows. “What was that?” He didn’t let her answer. He was not going to let her yell at him. Not in that moment. He was back in front of her in what felt like half of a second, with a fistful of her shirt. He threw her to the kitchen floor, coming down on top of her. He pulled her shirt so that her head came off of the ground, and her face closed in on his. “Don’t you dare,” he screamed, “Ever talk to me like that again.” His free hand balled into a fist. He swung his arm until his knuckles collided with her face. He raised it again, without hesitation, punching her twice in a row in the exact same spot.
Hurting Emily gave Spencer a lot of different things to think about. He didn’t understand why the sight of her hurting could be so appealing to him. He hated himself. He was never going to be deserving of her. He couldn’t fathom why she would stay faithful to him. The smell of blood reminded him of his childhood. Unfortunately, his hazy mind refused to think too long on any of these things, and instead, only worked well enough to allow him to raise his fist again.
The blow connected with her nose, and he heard a crack. Over her cries and pleading for him to stop what he was doing, he could hear the physical impact he’d had. That was enough to stop him. He looked down at her bloody face and his fist unraveled, trembling. “I-“ he tried, but there was nothing he could say. He stood up, over her, and then scooped her into his arms. He had to get her to the hospital.