Page 23 of On the Rocks
I slap away his outstretch hand. “Don’t touch me.”
My head whips against the ceramic from his smack across my cheek. The skin hot and burning from the force. From the humiliation.
Drake would never hit me.
A flash of memory before the idea fizzles out. Tangled in a cobweb of thoughts that I can feel but can’t quite reach. Already vanished when I grasp for them.
“I said come here.”
His fists curl around my biceps, and he jerks me up with him as he stands. Giving me a hard shake. Immune to my tears landing on his bare chest.
“I don’t understand.” I hate the tremble in my whisper. Almost as bad as the ambiguity causing my panic. “What do you want from me?”
His brown eyes flame with aggression, boring into mine. “Everything.”
In the blackness of my mind I hear one word over and over again.Run.
I’m scared to stay but even more afraid to leave. Because I don’t know how or where or what. “Who are you?”
“Oh god. Not this again.”
Anger clenches his jaw, and he shoves me away in disgust. But at least he lets me go. I hug the wall with my back and try to yank my shirt lower. Needing to cover my body. My vulnerability. “What?”
“Why do you always do this?”
Must be a game. Or a joke. It seems like we’re talking in riddles. “Do what?”
While he drives his fingers through his spiky blond hair, I take in the room. White furniture. Sky blue bedspread. Decorative sea shells hanging between the bay windows. A lighthouse sculpture filling the corner next to a small wicker sofa with yellow and red pillows.
“Freak out when we go on vacation. For once, I’d like to be a normal couple enjoying a week at the beach without you fucking losing it.”
Everything he says sounds so outlandish. But matches the place we’re in. I blow out a deep breath. Maybe I can figure this out. If I could just have a minute to think. If my head would just stop pounding so hard. “You’re my boyfriend?”
“Oh no, baby.” A smirk curls his lips, and he zeros in on my trembling legs. The proof of his desire growing in his boxer briefs. “I’m Michael. Your husband.”
I shake my head. Only one thing I’m absolutely certain of in this nightmare. “I’d never marry a man like you.”
He’s on me before I can jump out of the way. Slamming into me so hard we dent the drywall and knock over the lamp. His weight stealing my breath. His fingers digging into my throat.
“You're mine now, and I’m going to love showing you how much.”
I claw at his hand smothering my oxygen. Fighting the stars bursting in my vision. Jerking away from his fingers cupping between my legs.
“Good morning, Mr. Wire! I’m here to make your breakfast.”
A woman’s voice, bright with a joyful melodic tone, floats from the other side of the closed white door, and he stills. Allowing me to collapse to the floor after he steps back.
“Damn it! She’s early.”
The sting of the icy tile on my butt is nothing compared to agony in my neck and head and arm. I tuck my legs against my chest, trying to breathe. Trying to keep from breaking down.
After pulling on the pants strewn across the chair, he strides out of the room. I scramble up and race to the dresser. Yanking open drawer after drawer. Empty. I move to the closet. Metal hangers clank together from me jerking the curtain across the bar. A pink dress hangs from one of the big white hooks. Soft fabric under my fingers with the hint of a clean scented cologne that makes my heart ache harder than the rest of my abused body. So familiar I want more. I want home. I want him.
Tattooed fingers crush my wrist and spin me around.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Run.
