Less than Perfect by S. J. Evans (love letters to the dead txt) 📕

others. He didn’t have to tell her, she knew by the darkness in his eyes, the heaviness of his voice, and the strength of his body. He could kill, without thought or consideration.
Shaking, she resituated herself so that Johnny wasn’t touching her anywhere but her shoulders. Being near him was enough; she couldn’t have his body lingering on hers too long. She knew there was fear in her eyes—and actions—and tried to cover it up, steadying herself under Johnny.
“What do you want, Johnny?” she croaked, finding her voice.
He smiled, devilishly. “Nothing,” he said, “for now.”
“Than what did you want to talk to me about?” she breathed. Her pulse raced, her nerves going unsteady, and she bit her tongue so that she wouldn’t say something she’d regret.
“Nothing, Skylar,” he told her. “I just wanted you for myself; away from that young pest Julian

,” he sneered. “He’s nothing but trouble, Princess. That’s all men are.”
Before she could stop herself, she grumbled, “And you’re no better. You’re just a messed up and abusive, repulsive, monster

.”
In one quick moment, Johnny slapped her, the impact of his hand across her face throwing her head to the side. She quivered underneath him, carefully bringing her hand to her face. “Johnny, I—” she whimpered.
He took a quick breath, easing himself on the mattress beside her. “I’m sorry, Skylar. I shouldn’t have,” he whispered. His breathing was ragged, fighting off anger and sorrow Skye supposed, and his fingers were cold when they brushed her cheek gently. “You just make me crazy, Skye. I don’t know what I want to do with you when I’m around you; I’m not in control of myself. This has to be our little secret, okay Princess?” he spoke slowly, clear. “You ran into the wall,” he added blankly.
Skye curled up into a ball, holding back tears. The pain burned her cheeks, fire searing her skin. She blinked rapidly, letting her eyes adjust. She waited silently as the bed creaked, praying that he wouldn’t touch her again. And when she bolted upright to scramble away, she saw that he was sitting on the side of her bed, shoulders hunched over, head in his hands.
He’d apologized, but she hadn’t taken him seriously. He’s done it too many times to forgive. But seeing him there, looking upset with himself instead of her, she didn’t know what to think. She tried to imagine him being vulnerable, an entirely different person, but couldn’t grapple with the idea. He wouldn’t be that person. Johnny couldn’t change. He’ll always be a monster.
Scooting herself off the bed, she wobbled over to the door, watching him carefully, hoping he wouldn’t attack her again. When she reached the handle she stopped, turning towards him and sighing.
“I ran into the wall,” she repeated his last words, sourly. “But Johnny,” she watched as he lifted his head to look at her, “I don’t

forgive you. And if you ever

hurt me again, you’ll regret it. I’m not your little ‘Princess’ anymore.”
With that, she left her room, wishing she was really that strong. In the truth of the matter, Skye didn’t trust herself; she didn’t believe he’d regret it. She knew he’d somehow manage to have his own way eventually, and, in her mind, it would be in the worst of ways.
Descending the creaky staircase, Skye waited moment by moment, knowing that Jules and Rachel could be around the corner and at her side in a second, questioning her with worry. And from the shakiness of her body she knew her nerves were just dying down, slowly fading in the aftermath of Johnny. She really wanted to avoid talking about him, at all costs.
As she walked around the staircase, peeking into the living room, she tried to ignore the pain on her cheek. It pinched at the skin, tingled underneath it. Her face was still pinkish where she’d been hit, inflamed by the strength of Johnny’s hand. Jules would see it, Rachel would get an idea, and both

would question her about it, Skye assumed.
Slowly touching her cheek, she felt the heat like someone had placed a hot pillow against her face, unnerved by the fact that Johnny was still out to hurt her. He had apologized, but it didn’t matter—Skye knew better. Apologies—unless they came from someone she could trust—were not worth anything to her anymore. Too many times had she lost trust in others because of their actions.
“Skye? Are you alright?” Rachel spoke from behind her. In a matter of a moment of time, she was in front of Skye with a certain look of concern spread across her features. Surely, Skye thought, she was looking for a sign that Johnny had used foul play.
In instinct, Skye turned away from her friend and bit her lip. Only to be face-to-face with Jules, standing there intently watching her every move. Her mouth parted, breath sped up, eyes blinking hard at the new situation. Even though part of her knew Jules would be with Rachel, in the moment at hand, she wished he hadn’t been. Her red cheek would catch his eyes quickly, much sooner than she wanted.
A hand touched her shoulder, carefully. She jumped a little, not having felt Rachel’s delicate hand but Johnny’s strong one. Another hot pulse of beating sprang through her body, irritating her stomach. Her body was shaking, no matter how hard she tried to stop it, everything crashing down around her. She thought she might have puked, right then and there, if she would’ve had anything to bring up.
Johnny’s words rang in her ears: You ran into a wall

. Vile swam up her throat, sickening her. She had to lie; otherwise she would pay the price. That was her conclusion to the nauseating situation around her. Lies

, she heard in her thoughts. They can solve situations like this

. But Skye knew that it wasn’t right to lie, especially to the people close to her, and that the voice inside her head must have been from the part of her that Johnny corrupted. And that

sickened her.
She noticed Jules’ concern the moment it crossed his face. Her heart ached, feeling his pain along with her own. Her comprehension belittled from the nerves, she faintly heard slurred together words and watched as Jules’ mouth twitched. But it wasn’t just a twitch, she realized, it was his lips forming words.
“What’s wrong, Trouble? You’re all jumpy.” Jules, having placed a reassuring hand on her opposite shoulder, was saying. “Did something happen up there, with—”
Before he could say anymore, she shook her head. “Nothing happened with me and him!” she objected. “I’m fine, really.” As if surprised by her small outrage, Jules raised his brows.
“Are you sure, Skye? Because your cheek’s all red,” he countered.
She gasped silently as his hand touched her burning skin, the cool of his touch suppressing the heat. The room seemed to fall away, the situation along with it, Jules the only thing Skye could focus on. Her hand reached for his other hand, lacing her fingers in his. Vaguely, she noticed Rachel’s presence beside her, but it seemed secondary when she felt Jules’ assurance.
And suddenly she didn’t care to share the lie with him as long as it meant she would be safe. Safe felt good; she couldn’t lose that too. Jules was her safety.
“I’m sure, Jules,” she breathed. “I just ran into the wall coming out of my room. I guess I’m still a little under the weather.”
“And distracted maybe?” He added. His breath caressed her skin, tickling a nerve Skye hadn’t felt tickled before. “At least you’ll be okay. But next time Skye, try not to run into any walls. I think your skin is just as beautiful without a bruise, don’t you?”
Ignoring his comments almost all together, she murmured a response and curled into him. She didn’t care if Rachel wouldn’t believe her lie, which she could only imagine would be the case; she only cared about spending as much time possible with her loved ones. She couldn’t imagine losing anyone else she cared about without giving more of an effort in the relationships.
“Everything’s just right, Jules,” she spoke into his green T-shirt. “I’m just fine.”
His arms were wrapped securely around her, his head on top of hers. He whispered a response in the air, “I’ll be sure things stay this way. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”
But you can’t, Jules

, she objected silently. You couldn’t possibly keep me safe from Johnny unless you knew about what he’s been doing to me. And I certainly can’t tell you, unless I want to lose you, and I couldn’t want that.

Her heart ached to tell him what he needed to hear, word of Johnny’s abuse, but, of course, she ignored it quickly. She disregarded her emotional baggage at the gate and jumped into the departure of a new chapter in her life; a chapter—in which only two people could complete—that revolved soundly around Jules and the compelling feelings she felt for him.
She spoke this instead: “Okay.”
“Look, I hate to break up this little romance you’ve got going on between you two, but I think we have company.” Rachel, tapping a finger against Skye’s shoulder, spoke quietly.
Slowly, Skye pulled away from Jules; sighing inside. Once she pried herself away from him, she looked in the direction Rachel was looking and instantly jolted to start. She felt Jules’ body enclose around her and let him. She was just as tense—if not more—as he.
“Would you all like some dinner?” Johnny asked sluggishly. He didn’t look his normal self, Skye noticed. He looked tired, strained, and utterly wasted. By what he could be wasted by, was that of which she didn’t know. He wasn’t drinking. She didn’t smell the alcohol in the air, nor had she smelt it back in her room only minutes before.
The tension suppressed the air again, sucking all of the life from Skye’s lungs. Nodding her head stiffly, she grabbed Jules’ hand in hers. “Sure, Johnny,” she said. “Thank you.”
He smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes, and brushed by them, entering the kitchen around the corner.
“Are you sure everything’s okay, Skye?” Jules asked. “You seem a little tense.”
She let out a long breath and nodded her head, clearing her mind from any memory of Johnny’s abuse. It seemed that every time she looked at him, a small, dismal action, memories of his abuse plagued her aggressively. Most of the time she warded them off, trying to think of a better time, but there were still those times when she couldn’t clear her head from the images without a little help too.
Jules and Rachel seemed to be the help.
“I’m sure,” she sighed. “I’m just a little shaken up from the past few days still, I think. It’s nothing, really. I’ll be okay.” She could feel Jules’ hand tighten around hers, holding her securely. Behind her, she felt his body tense up