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“I think so. All that’s left is hammering a few of the details out.”
Grim smiled. “Then we should get started.”
“Get the fuck up, bitch.”
I awakened to the voice I knew and
feared as I was dragged from the safe and warm cocoon of my bed by the hair. My scalp stung as Chet’s fist held on with a tight grip and tugged hard as I tried to fight him off. My feet couldn’t find traction and slipped on the smooth surface as my knees slammed down on the hardwood flooring.
I cried out as his palm hit my right cheek and the skin burned.
“Feeling brave tonight, huh?”
Scrambling away, I held up my hands as if I had any chance of him leaving me alone. The expression on his face was pure fury. I knew the look. It was no surprise and certainly wasn’t anything new. I’d grown accustomed to the hatred that took up permanent residence in those cold blue eyes.
When I didn’t answer for fear of angering him further, he snarled.
Chet grabbed my feet and yanked my body backward, flipping me over onto my stomach as I clawed at the wood with my fingernails. It was foolish to try to crawl away. He’d never allow it. My hair was grabbed again, and my head tilted back far enough that I was sure my neck would snap. He smiled with a loathing I couldn’t fathom before my mouth smashed into the wooden floor. I tasted blood and my vision blurred as the impact jarred the bones on my face.
All I could do was remain rigid as the room spun and I closed my eyes.
I was vaguely aware of my pajama bottoms and underwear being cruelly yanked away. My own nakedness and exposure. Helplessness. Submission.
In my mind, I was someplace else. I’d already retreated far into the deep and untouchable area that he couldn’t reach. A special little corner tucked away where no one could find me. My body was being roughly abused but Chet couldn’t touch this one place. My safe haven buried in my thoughts.
The brutal invasion and subsequent pain hardly registered. Nothing more than a minor horror of which I’d experienced multiple times before tonight. I was thankful that these sexual assaults had been confined to the nighttime hours or when Noah was in school. I didn’t have to worry that my son would see his father hurting his mother like this.
When it was over, I lay there, not daring to move. Chet pulled out from my body, slapping my ass cheeks hard on both sides. His words were a slur, and I knew he’d been drinking most of the evening at the bar before he arrived home.
“Better get cleaned up. I’ll be back later and next time I want in that tight ass.”
His footsteps retreated and the door clicked shut.
I wasn’t sure how long I lay in my own blood and the mixture of our bodily fluids as they leaked onto the floor. Eventually, the familiar numbness I’d accumulated around my heart prompted me to move. I never cried anymore as I’d done in the beginning or begged him to stop, fighting tooth and nail only to be beaten so badly I could hardly move for hours afterward.
Those were the early first years of our marriage before I got pregnant with Noah. Things were worse then. He probably would have killed me a long time ago. When I found out I was having a baby I thought Chet would change. For a time, he did. The beatings stopped. The assaults were few. He was almost kind. I grew complacent and thought those dark days were in the past.
Two weeks after my son was born Chet stumbled into the bedroom and attacked me in my sleep. I woke to him inside me, so shocked that I began clawing at him with my nails in an effort to make him stop. His hands closed around my throat as he thrust hard and fast, pounding my body into the mattress as screams were choked off along with air to my lungs. The pain was so terrible that I passed out before he finished. That was probably merciful. Blood coated the sheets, my thighs, and my bottom the next morning.
I remembered feeling stunned and sickened at the thought my own husband raped me. My body shook with sobs as I slipped from the bed and crawled along the floor to the bathroom. My fingers wouldn’t obey my commands. Weakened, it took many long minutes to reach the tub. I sat in the shower and hoped the memories of what Chet had done could be washed down the drain. My fingers were pruney when I noticed I’d lost all track of time, but the stain of his assault remained.
No amount of water could wash away the truth.
I’d never let the word rape surface in my mind before that day in the warm water, my tears mixing with the blood as I winced at the bruises on my body. I’d refused to acknowledge that I was a victim. A part of me had held onto the hope that Chet loved me and Noah enough and he would never hurt me again.
Devastated, I knew I had to form a plan . . . and escape was the only option.
Cold tremors rippled across my damp skin as I blinked, opening my eyes, and breathing hard in an effort to block the memories that had easily surfaced in my dreams. I didn’t want to sink into depression or dissolve into tears. Chet wasn’t going to win. He didn’t get to reach out to me after all this time and try to snatch away the little bit of happiness that I’d finally found.
Determined to move on and shut him out, I headed into the bathroom to shower. It was early when I padded my way into the kitchen. The tree was twinkling merrily, and I brewed a fresh pot of coffee, sinking onto a chair at the table once it was ready. I needed a cup and a few minutes to wake up before I made breakfast for Noah. Yesterday was his last day of school before the holidays. I planned on wrapping presents and mixing dough so we could bake cookies later while he played and visited Jayce.
My thoughts drifted and I thought of the handsome silver fox biker and his promise to return tonight. Didn’t take a lot of effort to know that when he spoke of the next level that he meant sex and a possible relationship. When he flirted with me at the Urgent Care weeks ago, I never would have thought I’d grow to care for him as much as I did. It happened fast in a lot of ways but that just meant my heart was finally ready to allow a little love back in.
I was more than willing to give Jayce a chance.
“You sure about this, sugar?”
“Wanting you?” I breathed out, giving him a shy smile. “Yeah. I’m positive.”
