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His lip lifts on one side as his mask starts to fall, his eyes flashing. “What I want is for you to follow my rules.”
“I do—”
“No, you don’t!” he shouts, so loud my ears ring. “Obey your earthly masters in everything.”
I roll my lips between my teeth, stopping the words desperate to escape. I can’t let them; I know what happens when I do. Am I submitting to him? Yes. But it’s for self-preservation.
He tilts his head, watching me, waiting for me to do or say something, but I learned that lesson a long time ago. Inside I’m screaming at him, telling him he’s a monster, but on the
outside, I exude calm.
His arm lifts and I try my hardest to hold back the flinch, but I can’t. I swallow, waiting for the blow.
“Such a good little petal when you obey,” he murmurs. I close my eyes when the leather of the belt whispers over my wet t-shirt, the buckle grazing my breast. A sob bubbles up, begging to escape.
I turn my head away, opening my eyes and searching for the peace I desperately need out of the kitchen window.
The leather leaves my body and I breathe a sigh of relief, but it’s soon replaced by his hand.
“No,” I choke out, my head whipping around and traitorous tears leaking out of my eyes. “Please don’t,” I beg.
He doesn’t listen. He never listens.
I try to turn away from him when his thumb and finger pinch my nipple, but his other hand grasps my waist, keeping me in place.
“Slaves, in all things obey those who are your masters on earth, not with external service, as those who merely please men, but with sincerity of heart, fearing the Lord.”
I look up, staring into his soulless eyes, wondering why. Why me? Why is he like this? Why can’t I escape? Why didn’t I tell Luke? Why, why, why?
My gut churns as his hand lowers, dipping under the waistband of my maxi skirt and something inside of me snaps. I lash out, my palm hitting the side of his face with a loud crack.
He stumbles back, shock written over his features.
“No,” I tell him, wanting my voice to come out firm but instead it’s weak. Just like I am.
I make a run for it, my legs carrying me as fast as I can. My feet slap against the living room floor, inches away from the door that will lead to my freedom before I’m pulled back by my hair, my scalp burning from the force he grabs me by.
His sinister laugh echoes around us, bating off the walls as my back collides with the floor. I thrash, knowing if he overpowers me now, I’ll never be the same.
I can’t let him do this, I’ve known it was coming, but I wished—prayed—he wouldn’t follow through with it.
His boot collides with my ribs, knocking the breath out of me before he crouches down beside me, his lips pulled into a grin. The kind of grin he gives his congregation.
“You can run, but I’ll always catch you.” His words are said with such conviction that I don’t doubt him. Will I ever be free of him? Will this ever end?
His hands slide down his body, undoing his pants, the sound of his zipper mixing in with my gasps as I try to catch my breath.
I hold my hand up, trying to silently tell him to stop, but he slaps it away. I squirm as he moves closer but he overpowers me as he places his palm on my chest, pushing with so much force I’m sure he’ll crack a rib.
“You walk around in tight t-shirts and skirts, tempting me with the devil inside you.” He climbs on top of me, pulling my legs open and ripping the material of my skirt as he yanks at it. I put all the strength I can into closing my legs, but it’s no use because he’s there between them, pulling his pants down.
“No,” I repeat, hoping this time he’ll listen.
His head whips up at my voice, his eyes narrowing. “Silence.”
“Pl—” His fist collides with my mouth, blood immediately coating my lips. I whimper at the pain flowing through me, but that’s not enough for him. He slams his fist into my face again, hitting my cheek and eye this time.
I cry out, lifting my arms to stop his attack, but he sees my move before I can do anything and grips my forearms, squeezing so tight I’m sure he’s going to break my bones.
