Page 3 of Sparrow's Grace

Sometimes I really wondered about that. Why he even bothered with all of this when it was clear he didn’t care about me?

That was proven when he fucked me. I never thought I would use that term, fucking. I thought I would call it making love because that’s what it should be. The joining of two bodies becoming one. But it was like his body was there but never his mind.

Almost as if he got transported in time to somewhere else.

And how did I know that?

Because it wasn’t my name that he called out when he came. No, it was a woman by the name of Luanne. That has happened thirty-seven times in the past two years. But the time that it really mattered and bothered me? That was the very night that I stupidly gave him my virginity.

I had only ever asked him who she was one time and one time only. And the way he had advanced on me, wrapped his hand around my throat, pushed me against the wall while his fingers dug into the tender flesh there. It scared the hell out of me.

And the words he had spoken to me?

His voice had been at a dead whisper when he asked, “What did you just say?”

Swallowing, I asked, “Who’s Luanne, Deck?”

“You don’t speak her name. You don’t even think her name. I ever hear you say her name again, promise to your father or not, I’ll choke the life out of you.”

And that had been the last time I had mentioned her name aloud.

I had just put the finishing touches on my make-up, covering the bruise on my cheek I had gotten from Deck just this morning for forgetting to grab him the ketchup for his eggs at breakfast. And how he managed to hit me like that when he had been stumbling every which way as he made it to the table in the kitchen shocked the hell out of me.

Seeing him drunk off his ass was nothing new, but I didn’t want to be near him.

That was proven true once again when I heard the door to his bedroom open and then heard his big body hit the bed.

I wanted to tiptoe out of there and not have to face him.

But alas, I had made a promise, and I never, freaking never broke a promise, even more so when I knew what would happen if I did. I didn’t feel like having another bruise on the side of my face.

So, that was why, after taking a deep breath, hoping I could come out of this unscathed, I turned off the light, opened the bathroom door, set my stuff down on the chair, and then took another deep breath.

Walking to the side of the bed, I did the job that he demanded I do when he came to bed drunk off his ass. Taking his boots off, I rolled him over, took off his kutte and his shirt, and then unzipped his jeans.

And after I had them unzipped, I pulled them off, followed by his socks.

I had just covered him with the blanket, tiptoed to the chair, grabbed my overnight bag and handbag, and let out a breath that I hadn’t realized I had been holding when my hand made contact with the doorknob.

My luck freaking sucked, because my body was suddenly grabbed, thrown over his shoulder, and tossed on the bed. My bags dropped ceremoniously to the floor.

I didn’t bother to tell him no. It wouldn’t do any good.

I didn’t bother to voice any opinions either.

It would have fallen on deaf ears.

He flicked my tennis shoes off, pulled off my jeans, followed by my panties, and entered me without a care.

My body had gotten used to the evasion and my vagina sadly had gotten used to the rough treatment from Deck. There was no foreplay. No tender words, no caresses. Nothing.

The term fucking was what it was. Pure and simple.

But I didn’t let that one word that always crept up instead take root in my brain.

However, this time I needed to say something, knowing it wouldn’t go over well, but he needed to know. Because it wasn’t me that had forgotten something. He never forgot a condom.

I opened my mouth to tell him no because I hadn’t been able to tell him that I got on a different form of birth control. The other pill was causing me to bleed heavier.

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