Page 81 of F*ck It Out With A Devil

I won’t be that woman, that’s for sure. He’s gone out of town for the remainder of the week, so at least I will have some time to recuperate. Luckily, I don’t have any bruises on my face, but the rest of me is a different story.

He did a number on my body, but he claims it was love marks and taps. I don’t know why he thinks I’m some young, dumb, and naive woman that I don’t know the difference between abuse and actual pleasure marks.

I don’t want to think about any of what just happened to me, I don’t even want to be in this room. I walk down the hall to another bathroom and get ready to soak. I put on some music and slide into the hot tub.

“This water is so hot, but feels sooooo good.” I moan, sliding the rest of the way in. I close my eyes as a set of silvery, deep browns stare back at me.

Shaking my head from that penetrating stare, I think about my parents. What would they say if they saw the way Bash just treated me? I should be ashamed of myself and run for the hills while he’s gone, but I can’t force myself to do it. Not just yet.

I close my eyes and just… be. I don’t want to think, move, or even breathe. But I do because I’d die otherwise.

I stay in the water until it goes cold. Even though it’s toe-curling cold, I can’t bring myself to get out as goosebumps appear on my skin.

“Ugh.” I guess it’s time to get out. I grab a towel and dry myself off before I reach over and pull my robe off the rack. Slipping it on my shoulders, I head back to the room. It brings back memories I don’t want to see, so I leave without putting on any clothes underneath my robe.

In my haste to flee the room, I don’t look where I’m going and hit the wall, knocking me flat on my ass. Looking up, I see it wasn’t a wall that I hit but a body. My eyes stretch all the way up until I’m looking into Wyck’s face.

“Watch where you’re going, step-mother.” He barks. I don’t know why his words cut me deep like they do. I try to keep the tears from spilling over, but it’s no use.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper, getting up from the floor, trying to run away when he grabs my wrist.

“What’s wrong with you?” He asks, reaching out, trying to wipe the tears from my face, but I flinch. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“He said he wouldn’t hurt me either, but he did.” I say, turning around to leave and shake out of his grasp. But he’s not letting me go. He pulls me back, flush against him.

“Who hurt you?” He says, pushing my robe sleeve up, inspecting me.

“You won’t find anything there. You can’t see unless I’m naked.” I whisper.

“Are you naked?” He growls.

“Why?”

“Because I want to see how badly you’re hurt, Athens.” He growls, grabbing the strings to my robe.

“You can’t.”

“I can, and I will.” He says, slapping my hands away, reaching for my robe strings again. This time, I don’t try to stop him.

“Wyck.” I whisper his name as the tears begin to crest over my eyelids.

“Who. Hurt. You?”

“Your father.” I whisper, ashamed for letting him see me like this and knowing his father is to blame.

His face hardens as he contemplates his next move or words. I don’t know what’s going through his head, but the more he stares at me, the more I think he hates me.

I turn to leave, but he pulls the strings of my robe, making me stay rooted in the same spot.

“Don’t walk away from me, Athens.” He growls, and I listen. How is it that he has such an effect on me that makes me listen to his demands?

“I shouldn’t have got you involved. Please, let me go.” I beg.

“Go where?” He grunts.

“I can’t stay here after he’s done something like this to me, no matter how many times he said he was sorry.”

“I’ll kill him before he tries it again.” He mumbles. “Come to my room and show me what he did.” He pleads.

---