Page 18 of Resistant

I can feel my sensitive skin ripping apart on the inside and I whimper, still trying to catch my breath. My panties suck into my mouth coating the back of my throat.

My entire side aches, and I can feel my eye swelling up. He’s muttering and cursing but I don’t hear what he’s saying.

I’ve left the room, and I’m sitting on the grass in the sunshine making daisy chains. The wind blows softly, and the sun is warm on my skin. The grass tickles the back of my ankles and I shift around looking for a more comfortable spot.

I’m jolted back to the present when he stops moving, he’s groaning, and I feel his come leaking out of me.

I gag and feel vomit burning my throat. He gets up abruptly and slams the door on his way out. My body aches. The pressure from his hands ache in my wrists and I know they will be black and blue tomorrow. My face burns, a constant searing pain that ebbs and flows. I roll carefully off the bed and wince when my ankle turns. I hobble to the bathroom.

I stand in the shower scrubbing until the water runs cold. I don’t stop shivering all night, and I don’t sleep.

In the morning, I try to hide the bruises on my face as best I can. Even with makeup, I can’t hide the scratches and the swelling. Nathan sees. He sees it all.

“Are you okay Mama? Why didn’t you yell the code word? I thought we agreed.” His face contorts with anger as he studies my wrists.

“I’m okay Nathan. It’ll take me some time to heal.”

Nathan grabs my phone.

“At least the asshole overpaid you. This is fucked up. I blocked him. He’s off your list.”

I try and give my son a small smile of reassurance. I’m sure it looks like a grimace. I don’t have anything to say. He’s right, and I don’t have the heart to correct him for using foul language. Honestly, it’s appropriate, so I let it be.

“We should cancel any appointments you have for the rest of the week.”

“I have one more tonight, it won’t be bad. And I’ve cleared my schedule for the next two weeks. Who knows, we may not even be here by then anyway.”

Unexpected Clemency

Brynn

Knox enters my bedroom; I am kneeling on my bed with my head down. Me kneeling for him was not on the menu tonight so when he reaches me, he stands there waiting.

I don’t dare look at him. My dark hair is falling over my face, and I know he can’t see much of it. I’ve been in this position for so long that my bruised side is aching, and I reach an arm out to brace myself. He clutches my chin and pulls my face up. I close my eyes.

I can smell liquor on his breath. He says nothing, he does nothing. We stay still for long minutes until he finally breaks the silence.

“Why didn’t you cancel?”

“I can still do this.”

“Bullshit, lagniappe you look like hell.”

I hear an accent in his speech I haven’t noticed before, and I have no idea what he called me. It sounded like lanyep. But I don’t ask, I need to get this done so I can get my boys out of dodge.

“I thought you might appreciate the free extra misery.”

His breath expels from his lips, and he looks at me in disbelief.

“Jesus, Brynn. I’m not a heartless bastard.”

I don’t say anything. Anyone who willfully takes part in this trade game is a heartless bastard in my opinion.

“I’d like to finish the appointment.” I say, meeting his eyes.

“We’ll have to agree on something else, your lip is split, and I don’t want to see your blood all over my dick.”

I’m tired, and I know that I shouldn’t goad him but I can’t help myself. Sarcasm is my second language.

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