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I do enjoy the pampering I’m forced to do. It’s one thing I don’t mind. I just wish he wasn’t so rigid in my self-care. It’d be nice to skip a day, or even two, of shaving my legs and other parts.
I pull my sleek platinum blond hair into a messy top knot, with some of the shorter strands falling out, tickling my neck, and call it good. Then, grabbing my clothes from the day on my way out, I put them in the hamper in the walk-in closet, turning all the lights out as I go and settle into bed.
I click on the light on my nightstand by my side of the bed and pick up my book, opening to the page I marked with a bookmark. Before I know it, I drift off in the middle of reading about a princess that wasn't waiting for her prince charming to come and save her. No, she was saving him from the dragon. I begin to dream, wishing I had even an ounce of the courage she does.
5 Breaking Point
You’re Gonna Be Okay by Brian & Jenn Johnson
Iwakesuddenlygroggy,wondering what startled me from my sleep. Thinking it might’ve been Zander, I check the baby monitor and listen for a moment. A noise from down the hall in one of the spare rooms makes me jump, though I’m not sure which one. My book falls from the bed, but I’m more worried about the sounds from the hall.
Throwing the covers back, the cold air hits me as I slip out of bed, making me grab my robe and find my slippers in the dark, then move toward the door to listen again. Everything is quiet for a few minutes until I hear another loud noise that sounds like it’s coming from the kitchen, like dishes breaking.
Squeezing my eyes closed and sending a request to the universe that I’m wrong and it’s an intruder. I’d rather deal with that than an angry Steven. Moving back to my bedside, I instinctively pick up the book, setting it on my nightstand, not wanting to leave it and risk Steven’s retribution. I tuck my phone into my robe pocket in case I might need it. It’s one of the things Gemini insisted I do anytime I’m home. Tiptoeing down the hall to the stairs, my hand shaking on the stair banister. My heart thunders in my chest like a racehorse barreling down the backstretch to win a race. My entire body is strung tight like a notched arrow on a bowstring.
I don't want to go down there and deal with Steven and whatever his problem is now, but I know if I don't, he'll just come up the stairs to the bedroom, which is always so much worse.
Pausing to listen at the top of the stairs, I gathered my courage and remind myself that I only have a few days left, then Zander and I will be gone, and Steven won't be able to hurt us anymore.
Descending the stairs, I help guide my way with a clammy hand on the banister. The noises from the kitchen get louder, so I make my way closer to the entrance. All the lights are on, and it’s like a beacon compared to the rest of the house, with only a few side lamps on to help guide my way around. My eyes take a moment to adjust to the brightness, and I hold my hand up to help shield them from the harsh glare.
Once they’ve gotten used to the light, I fully enter the kitchen and look with horror at the box I wrapped earlier. Steven is standing next to it with his back toward me, mumbling to himself. I try to back out of the room slowly so I can leave unnoticed, but he turns just as I take my second step back.
An evil Cheshire grin spreads across his handsome face. It makes my stomach roll, threatening to make me sick.
“Hello, dearest wife. I was just investigating this lovely wrapped gift, wondering why you'd hide it from your loving husband.” Steven says in his quiet, lethal voice that has me trembling with the first word uttered. His eyes are an inferno, blazing hotter than the sun. I wrap my arms around my torso for comfort, knowing it won't help with what’s to come.
“Come here, Heather.” His voice slithers out, causing the baby hairs on my body to prickle. I flinch, even knowing it will only push him farther into his rage and possibly excite him.
Ever so slowly, I move toward him, my mind running at breakneck speed as to why I'd have a secret present hidden away with another person’s name on it. When I get within arm’s reach, he explodes in a flurry of movement and grabs the back of my hair, making thousands of needles stab my scalp. Tears gather in my eyes, then spill over and stream down my face.
“Who the fuck is Gemini? How long have you been fucking him? You whore! I knew you couldn't keep your legs closed. Fucking cunt! You think you can hide shit from me? You're mine, I fucking own you! You don't let anyone else even look at you!” Steven rages. While he jerks me around by my hair.
Once he’s pulled me to the end of the counter, he backhands me across the right side of my face, and I feel my lip split open. My knees buckle due to the power behind his blow. The problem is he doesn't release my hair, so it yanks me back toward him. Wrapping his other arm around my chest and shoulders from behind me, digging his fingers into my shoulder, drawing me flush against him. I can tell from past times there will be more than a little bruising. I can feel his excitement on my lower back.
“No one touches you but me! Your pussy is my pussy. Your mouth is mine. Your face, every fucking inch of you, is god-damned mine! You're mine!” He rages at me on his deranged tangent. Dragging me toward the counter where he has Gemini's gift, he pushes me over the counter, and my ribs hit hard along the edge, knocking the breath from me. The sharp pain makes me cry out. He shoves my face into the counter. The already abused flesh sings with more pain. I try to push back, but it’s no use.
“It's not a man. It's a woman from the store. They bought a large amount of merchandise lately. It’s a thank you gift for all the recent business.” I try to pass off the lie, hoping in vain that he'll buy it. I know better, but I can't stay quiet. He grabs the gift and shoves it into the right side of my head. I vaguely register the sound of breaking glass and feel tiny razor-like cuts on my face. It makes me see stars for a moment, giving him enough time to lift me up and turn me around, slamming my back onto the countertop and pressing his forearms into my chest and stomach. The back of my head smacks the hard surface, and things go fuzzy for a moment. I shake it, trying to clear the fog, while he manhandles me into a better position to tower over me.
Once he’s up on the counter between my legs, he punches me in the head with the demolished box. Glass shards fly. My survival instincts kick in, and I throw my arms up to help protect my head. I can't form words by this point. All I can do is cry out from the pain of his relentless abuse.
“Think you can fuck anyone and get away with it? I'll show you, you fucking bitch. You'll never let anyone near your cunt again when I'm done with it.” Steven places one hand around my neck, squeezing just enough so I don't pass out, while he uses his other hand to undo his pants. I reach blindly above my head for something, anything to use against him. The tips of my fingers brush something, but I can't tell what it is. All I know is it is hard and cold against my skin.
I try to reach it again while trying to fight Steven off with my other hand. I grip the edge, just barely, and pull it closer so I can, hopefully, get a better grip. Steven starts grunting and trying to block my attempts at getting his hand away from his pants. I get a solid grip and swing toward Steven's face.
His garbled yell reverberates off the hard surfaces in the kitchen. He falls forward onto me, and at first, I think it’s because he’s trying to pin me down. Only, he’s not moving. His weight is crushing me. My head spins from his blows and his weight pressing down on me. I can’t breathe from the weight, and the edges of my vision close in on me. I try to push him off, but I used up all of my strength and adrenaline, fighting him off. Before I can move him, blackness consumes me.
Coming too, slowly, groaning from the pain in my head and torso, I try to clear the fuzzies out of it. Lifting my hand up to test the damage on my face as I struggle to breathe. It feels like I’ve got bricks on top of my chest. With my other arm, I try to sit up, but it won't move.
Opening my eyes to slits, I see part of Steven's face and shoulder on the counter while the other half is still on me, with his legs between mine. He’s at an awkward angle. Panicked tears stream down my face, and I can't catch my breath. Then over my cries, I hear pounding on the front door.
“This is the Phoenix police. Open the door. We got a well-check call from a neighbor.” More pounding and announcing who they are and why, plus adding they are going to break the door down if we don't let them in. I can't get enough breath to yell loud enough to be heard from the kitchen. Two beats later, I hear the front door crack, and then it hits the wall with a loud bang.
“This is the Phoenix police department. We are entering the home out of concern for the occupant's safety.” They state while clearing rooms in the house, and they soon make their way into the kitchen. Then everything is a flurry of commotion as officers gently pull Steven off me. He groans when they move him, so at least I know I didn't kill him.
“We need medics in here, now!” Shouts an officer. It hurts my head, and I grab it with my working hand, holding it tenderly. The officer’s eyes track the movement as more people rush in. It’s all I can do to try and stay conscious.
“Get a female officer on site now.” The other officer says at a lower volume.
