"Are you saying your prudish hang ups in bed are because it's not considered proper?" I asked, incredulous that this insane reasoning was behind all the aborted intimacies and subsequent lackluster sex.
That was the comment that brought out the monster in full force. "I tried to let you be the wife and use whores for my other needs, but since you can't mind your place, you can find out for yourself what I was kind enough to spare you from,” he spat at me scathingly.
Kind enough? "It's cheating, you bastard!"
The crack of skin on skin and the following sting that quickly turned into a burning heat on my cheek registered before the realization that he'd slapped me did. I glared at Dirk while holding a hand to the side of my face.
"Shut up, and take your dress off." My head barely moved in a shake of refusal before he reached out and forcefully shoved me over the end of the bed, smothering my face in sheets, just like he had Nina’s.
I tried to rise up, done with being abused, done with him.
Scream for help, you idiot. At least use Carter as a distraction and get the fuck out of here. I told you, he’s a creeper!
"Oh no you don't,” he gritted out, making me yelp as his fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of my neck. When I didn’t make a move to pull against his grip, he let my head go, cool air immediately hitting my ass as the skirt of my dress was flipped up. With his hand planted firmly in the middle of my back, holding me down once more, Dirk delivered his ultimatum. "If you move, I'll have Carter come in here to hold you down." No way in hell I can let anyone else see me like this. Much to the satisfaction of my soon-to-be ex-husband, my body went limp. "There you go,” he crooned eerily as he stroked my buttock and hip like he’d pet the flank of a jittery horse, but his tone became harsher with each word he spoke. “It'll be over soon, and then we can go back to the way it was. You'll understand then and won't give me these ridiculous demands!" The first of many slaps came down on my ass, and my suspicions were confirmed with each screamed obscenity or accusation and every punishing blow..
He is fucking insane.
Get out, Shelby, get out right now!
But I couldn’t. The monster that had overtaken my husband had no intention of letting me go until it was finished with me. I'd been swatted by Mama when I was a kid and being particularly misbehaved, and later on, the slaps became harder and more frequent, but the beating I received that afternoon was one of the worst experiences I'd ever endured. If I had known what was to come, maybe I'd have done things differently, or maybe it wouldn't have mattered, but that was the day my degradation began with no end in sight.
"Spread your legs. My hand hurts."
His hand hurts? My ass is on fire.But there was no snark or warning forthcoming. Despite wanting to do the exact opposite, I still complied, the threat of Carter coming in fresh in my mind. I couldn’t bear for him, or anyone else for that matter, to see me this way. In my gut, I knew he’d have already been in here if he were going to help me. He knew what was happening; he always had if the warnings from my wedding were any indication. It hurt like the dickens, but I hadn't let out more than a few muffled complaints into the bed, and I was determined to handle the situation and then leave. For good.
When Dirk had demanded my legs spread, I'd assumed he was going to have sex with me and be done with it, and with my face turned to the side so I could breathe better, I angrily watched as he unbuckled his belt and then unfastened his pants. He folded them, draping them across the chair against the wall, but he brought the belt back with him. The agony that erupted between my legs ruined whatever resolve I had to stay quiet and still. My throat burned with the force of my scream as I pulled my legs up to scurry across the bed to escape my deranged spouse.
"Get back over here, you harpy! You demanded I stop using whores, so you’ll take their place. Now, Shelby." Tears dripped steadily from my chin as I made myself into a ball, hopefully a smaller target to hit. "I'm giving you until the count of three to get back into position before I take the choice from you," he calmly said, as if he wasn’t about to hurt me worse.
"Please, Dirk, just stop. I'm sorry," I hiccuped out between gasps, not even caring that I wasn’t in the wrong. I just wanted it all to stop.
"Winston, Shelby. Dirk is for my wife, and that's not what you wanted to be, remember?" Eyes bright and manic with a flush in his cheeks, the monster he'd hidden so well peeked around whatever composure my husband had gathered, eager to be uncaged once more. At my refusal to comply, he started to count. "One." I cringed farther back into the headboard. "Two." My bedraggled hair slid around my shoulders as I shook my head with my eyes squeezed shut. "Fine. Three."
Run!
My lunge across the bed was abruptly aborted by a hand clamping around my ankle. My shrieks echoed off the walls as the belt swung, landing indiscriminately on every exposed piece of flesh as I twisted to escape, Winston’s brutal pulls ripping my clothing most of the way off of me. I wasn’t sure how long it lasted, but I eventually curled back into a ball, sobbing and waiting for it to end.
The cracking strikes eventually ceased, leaving their burning marks behind. The only sounds in the room were Winston's panting breaths and my constant whimpers.
"Are you ready to get back in position now?" His calm was back while I felt broken into a thousand pieces. He couldn't mean to make me take more.
"Please. No more." He didn't answer. Instead, he pulled the ankle he still gripped, dragging me down the bed. I didn't fight him, but I wasn't going to help him either. I wasn't even sure how well I could move. My muscles felt rigid, my skin swollen and tight.
A sharp pain reverberated through my body as it scraped over the edge of the footboard, eliciting a moan he ignored while he manipulated my legs to spread as far as they'd go. I gave a half-hearted attempt to struggle when I felt the first bit of restricting fabric around one ankle, at least until he delivered a swift slap to my ass. There was no resistance to the second binding holding me open to await his cruelty, and through all that followed, no one came to save me. Even the voice was silent, or at least drowned out under my screams and all-encompassing agony.