Her Fated Mate

“Connie, where are my trainers?” The booming voice of my boyfriend of 5 years screams down the stairs at me. I flinch, my heart beating in my chest and my mouth going dry. He’s always losing everything and I get the blame. I look around frantically, checking under the coffee table where he has a tendency to leave them, but with no luck I check the utility, opening the door with a shaky hand. I could literally cry with relief when I spot the white Nike’s. “Found them” I call back, a slight tremble in my response. Dean doesn’t make a sound for a few seconds and my panic ratchets up another notch before I hear him start making his way down the stairs. I attempt to steady my breathing and appear calm, if I give him any other response I will surely pay for it. He barely glances at me as he snatches the trainers from my hands “well if you weren’t moving my things constantly I would have been gone 5 minutes ago, now thanks to you I’m running late.” The last words are spat at me with such malice I flinch before I get the chance to reign it in. Before I can blink, Dean has shoved me against the wall and gets right in my face, “don’t touch my things again” he pauses at me, looking me up and down “you’ve put on weight, you need to up the exercise and lay off the cakes, you’re a slob.” He pushes away from the wall and out of my face, smirking as he grabs his coat and walks to the door. I start to relax as he opens the front door, tensing when he turns back towards me “don’t forget to send me your location, set it for 8 hours, I’ll be gone for most of the day” he says, before walking out and closing the door behind him. As soon as I hear the car move out of the drive I let out a breath, a slow smile creeping across my face, I can’t contain the excitement.. I have a day to myself. My location is sent to Dean on our messages before I get to cleaning, if I can rush through this I know I’ll get the chance to get my jog out of the way and catch up on my romance book hidden beneath the mattress in my bed. Two hours later and I’ve worked up a sweat, I double check the mirror but can’t see where the weight could be be that I’ve put on, I’m already on a calorie controlled diet, Dean hates me being bigger than a size 6-8 so I have to avoid anything that even remotely tastes nice. He’s okay to stuff his face, but if I so much as look at a chocolate he will have me running laps, timing me too. Sitting at the bottom of the stairs with my elbows on my knees I try to psych myself up, I know if I don’t run long enough he will have me going back out tonight, but I’m just so bone tired, I want to rest and tuck in to my book where the hero sweeps the abused woman off of her feet. Shaking my head at myself I grab my door key and put it in my pocket, turn my music on and set off, there’s no point in dreaming about an existence that will never be, it just hurts all the more when no one comes to save me. My phone rings as I reach the 2 mile mark, my legs are aching but I’m not even half way through yet, that’s what happens when you don’t have a rest day. Answering the call, I immediately feel sick when Dean starts on me “stupid b***h, you didn’t tell me you were running,” I try and fail to level my breathing before responding “sorry babe, I thought it would have notified you when I sent you my location.” I could cry, I can’t stop or he’ll know and make me do more laps, but my stomach is in bits, I feel like I want to throw up. Dean huffs before spitting back “I swear to god Connie, you are the dumbest b***h I know. You tell me when you leave the house, and you tell me when you get home. Stop being so thick, I’m sick to death of you.” I swallow back a sob, “I’m so so sorry, I really didn’t mean to,” I know I’m not in the wrong, he tracks my every move, but if I so much as hint at this then the pain he will put me through will be unbearable. Again, I’m so so tired, tired of Dean, tired of me being unable to fight back and tired of life. “Just stop, I don’t want to hear it. I’m having a good day with the boys, and you’re ruining it. Text me when you get home and” I collide off of something solid, making an oompf sound and hitting the floor with a bone jarring thud. I take several deep breaths, trying to quickly analyse my injuries, that’s the thing about being a human punching bag, you quickly take note of any life threatening or debilitating injuries. As I’m sat on the floor catching my breath, I hear Dean shout in anger “ what the f**k is going on?” My stomach bottoms out and I quickly respond, wincing as I realise I’ve jarred my lower back, “sorry, I fell.” As I look up to see what I’ve run in to my heart quite literally stops, causing a painful thump, before beginning to race. I hold my hand to my throbbing chest as I look in to the most gorgeous blue eyes I’ve ever seen. Distantly I hear Dean calling me a dumb b***h again before hanging up, but I’m lost in those eyes, I can’t seem to look away. My heart levels out again, and I’m able to pull my eyes away and do a slow sweep, and OMG, the man is an Adonis, bronze skin, cropped dirty blonde hair, sharp cheek bones and lips made in to the perfect pout, lips made for kissing. He’s wearing a hoody, running trousers and trainers, and it takes me a second to realise he’s talking to me. My cheeks heat as I shake off my awe and try to listen and respond like a sane human being would do.. “Sorry what?” I ask him, kicking myself internally at how needy I must sound, like a dog on heat. The Greek god shakes his before leaning down to me, and my heart kicks up a faster pace again “are you okay?” He looks at me with such intensity, holding out his hand to help me. I slowly and tentatively reach for him, my trust in men completely broken, but there’s something about this god that is so familiar, he feels like home. As my fingers reach his I get the most painful shock to my heart, the god’s eyes widen before my eyes roll back and the darkness takes over.