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Tyson made a big deal about the favor he was doing me by letting me take the fare, claiming he didn’t believe I was doing this for Heidi but because I had heard what a good payer Mr. Gilbert was and wanted the extra cash. Mr. Gilbert had argued the point, demanding he be allowed to have Heidi again, and Tyson could only talk him out of it by telling him Heidi’s wounds hadn’t healed.
It wasn’t a lie. She was still staying with me and would wince every time she stood. Apparently, her injuries were worse than they had first appeared.
I needed to get her out of here.
I met Mr. Gilbert at the hotel. I waited for him by the room door wearing slinky black lingerie and high heels. He swept past without looking at me when I held the door open for him, and only after I closed it and turned, did he bother to look into my eyes.
“I do like blondes,” he said.
“I know,” I answered, keeping the seduction heavy in my voice.
“Do you know what else I like?”
I decided to play it safe and lean into the innocent role he seemed to like. So when I shook my head, his eyes flashed with lust. “No, Mr. Gilbert.”
“Call me Paul.”
Paul, of course. An unassuming name for an unassuming man. I had only seen him in passing, leaving the hotel from across the road or walking down the street, away from his sins. I’m sure I imagined more of a Jekyll and Hyde situation than the man standing in front of me. He was undoing his cufflinks as he eyed me. His suit was expensive as I expected for what he pays Tyson. When he removed his wedding ring, I resisted rolling my eyes. Obviously, what he does in these rooms he wouldn’t dare do to his wife, lest the public discovered he’s a sick fuck.
Maybe I just hadn’t met Hyde yet.
When he approached me, all I could think of was the way Heidi came to me, time after time, broken and bruised, and I imagined the sort of man who was capable of such things. I had to fight the bile rising in my throat when he kissed me, and I’m sure my lips were moving stiffly against his, the gentle touch of his kiss luring me into a false sense of security.
“Why so nervous?” he whispered against my lips, and when I shuddered, he wrapped my hair around his fist. He didn’t pull or yank me around, but with every gentle touch, I was put more on edge about the violence I knew was coming.
“I just want to please you,” I said, my voice quiet against him. He was so close, and I was trembling when he ran his hand down my body, squeezing my breasts on the way down as he traced his fingers over my stomach, snapping my garter against my skin and making me jump.
He chuckled, and I realized I wasn’t as strong as I thought I was.
I’d put myself in some stupid situations before to save others, but it was always a spur-of-the-moment decision, fueled not only by my protective nature but by rage. So when the pain came, I had adrenaline running through my veins, protecting me from some of the reality of what was happening.
But this, this was different. I knew what this man was capable of, and I had days of knowing this was coming, days to imagine the pain he’d inflict, and all that did was build it up to a nightmare in my mind.
“Do you know what I think?” He hummed as he ran his fingers along the top of my panties. “I think you have heard what I like. I think that other little blonde slut has been running her mouth off.”
“No, Paul, I just—”
He slapped me across my face so hard my ears started ringing. He hadn’t let go of my hair, and my scalp screamed in protest as he used my hair to maneuver my face to his. Tears stung in my eyes, and this unassuming man, well, his face told me there was the devil inside him.
I whimpered when he pulled on my hair, shrieking when he yanked so hard, I was tilted backward until I lost my footing. He still didn’t let go of my hair and let me flail and struggle against his grip as I tried to get back onto my heeled feet, desperate to release the pressure against my scalp.
Wrapping my hands around his wrist as he pulled me upright, his hand still tangled in my hair, he laughed at the tears openly streaming down my face.
“Oh yes…” he snarled. “You’ll do just fine.”
He could see me. I knew he could.
Tyson, that fuck.
Although I could hardly see him, I was barely conscious at this point. My eyes felt like they had been reduced to slits, and I didn’t need to touch my face to know it was swollen beyond recognition. Paul had dragged me out of the room when he was done. I didn’t even know if we ended up having sex. By the time he got through with the first beating, I was in and out of consciousness. He’d wait for me to wake every time before continuing, though.
He liked it when I screamed.
When I couldn’t walk for myself, he dragged me out of the room. I guess I should be thankful he didn’t drag me by my hair, a courtesy to be dragged with his blood-splattered hands under my armpits. As soon as he exited the building, he left me on the sidewalk by the front entrance and whistled as he walked away into the darkness.
It was cold, and the night air stung against my wounds.
Tyson was at the bar on the other side of the street, and even though he stared for longer than he usually would, he didn’t come out. He turned his head as though he was following Paul with his eyes.
