Page 49 of Room Service
“Nice to meet you, Elise,” Doctor Ron says as he walks to the side of the bed and places his medical bag down.
“Wish I could say the same,” Elise says, earning a chuckle from the doctor. “I mean, under the circumstances…” She waves a hand around, and I find myself grinning at her sarcasm. Even in a dark moment, she’s managed to find some light.
“Why don’t you tell me what happened while I check your vitals,” Doctor Ron says, and I excuse myself to go and make the drinks and give them some privacy. I don’t want to leave, because I want to know everything, but I trust Doctor Ron with my life, and in turn, I trust him with Elise’s.
I make the drinks and take them into the lounge area, placing them on the coffee table, ready for when Doctor Ron emerges. If Elise wants her drink in bed, then I’ll make her a fresh one and take it to her. She better stay in bed, actually, because she’s not wearing any fucking trousers or shorts. Reminds me, I must make that phone call to have some complimentary night clothes sent up here.
I pick up the room phone and call the front desk, requesting what I need and telling them I expect it as soon as possible, and within five minutes, there’s a knock on the door. Christ, even for them that was quick. I make my way to the door and open it to see Hayley stood there, with the items I requested in her hands.
“I didn’t realise the hotel manager had time to deliver requested items.” It’s the best greeting she’ll get right now.
“Oh, I was on my way here anyway to check that you had everything you needed.” Her eyes are darting behind me, raising my suspicions of why she’s truly here.
“Well, I have everything I need now, so go do your job, Hayley,” I bark before I shut the door and make a mental note to look into her weird behaviour just now. So many mental notes and so little time, but there is one that tops the list after I’m assured Elise is okay, and that is finding her fucking husband and making him pay.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
ELISE
Doctor Ron finishes checking everything he needs to, and by the time he’s done, I feel even more exhausted than I did before. The bruising to my face will come out in the next couple of days, and he informed me that the injuries are superficial but that I need to take it easy for a few days. I don’t have the time to take it easy, but I have a feeling that Dorien won’t let me do a damn thing until he’s satisfied that I am all right.
As I lay here, wrapped up in Dorien’s pyjama shirt, I replay the moment my husband lost his mind.
“Elise,” his gruff voice says as I lift the top of the skip to chuck the rubbish bag in.
“Derrick?” I question as he emerges from the shadows at the back of the hotel, his eyes wide and wild as he comes into the light that shines from above the door of the staff entrance. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to take you home,” he says, walking closer. I drop the rubbish bag and let the bin lid clatter back down as I take a few steps back, just wanting to go back inside and forget I ever saw him here.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“I know, because of that dickhead that banned me from coming into the hotel. But you are still my wife, Elise, and you need to come home.”
“I don’t have a home with you, Derrick. I never did.” I keep my head held high. I won’t back down from him, not anymore. He doesn’t have the right to talk down to me or tell me what to do, it’s just a shame I didn’t have the backbone to walk away before I ever married the wanker.
“Don’t play these fucking games with me, Elise. You’re coming with me.” He reaches for my arm and grabs it, but I shrug him off and move towards the door. It’s a mistake on my part as he pushes me and shoves me against the wall, getting in my face, pinning me there with his body.
“Stop it, Derrick.”
“Never.” His hands go around my neck and he starts to squeeze, and I do the only thing I can think of in my panic and I claw his face, scraping my nails over his skin and making him roar out loud.
“If I can’t have you, no one fucking will,” he shouts, and then his fist connects with my lip, catching the bottom of my nose in the process. My eyes screw shut from the pain, my head swimming from the impact, and I desperately try to get him off of me, letting my adrenaline fuel me as I fight against his hold.
I start to feel dizzy, the lack of oxygen taking effect, but I refuse to give up. I left him, I got away, but it seems he’s determined to haunt me.
I keep clawing until my arms feel tired, and just when I think I have nothing left in me, there’s a noise, a loud clanging coming from the side of hotel, and Derrick drops me like a sack of shit as he steps back, his eyes wider than before as he starts to panic.
“This isn’t over,” he warns, and then he turns and jogs away, because let’s face it, he’s so fucking unfit he can’t break into a sprint.
I manage to push myself up enough to open the back entrance, and I stumble through, sliding the lock across before I give up and plummet to the floor, my mind only on one man… Dorien.
The bedroom door pushes open, and Dorien appears, looking as handsome as ever.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, carrying a cup, which he puts down on the bedside table.
“Okay. Doctor Ron gave me some strong pain relief.” I can feel it starting to kick in, making me feel like I’m starting to float.
“I know, he told me before he left.”
