Chapter Seventeen
Shelby
The car ride back was fraught with discomfort and silence, and I was too afraid to do anything about either one. So, instead, I gritted my teeth and squeezed my body into the door, staying as far from Dirk as I could. I didn’t believe his apologies for a second, but I had no idea how I’d get away from him again. I’d just have to bide my time.
I shouldn't have even tried to go back for Mama and had recognized my mistake immediately. I knew that would be the first place they'd look for me, but I’d hoped I'd have more time before someone came after me so that I could flee and disappear for good. That Dirk came himself was somewhat of a surprise after he'd left me broken and alone in my bed for days, yet his presence also worried me more. Who knew what would happen when we got home.
What do you think is going to happen, you ninny? Obviously nothing good!
She was right, as usual, but at least our arrival home was delayed by a trip to the café where I'd ditched my phone.
As soon as Milo came back from retrieving it, Dirk gave it to me. "Don't misplace it again, Shelby." He was still calm, but his voice had gone cold, nothing like the cajoling tone he'd first used to try and sweet talk me into going back with him. It didn't bode well for my near future, and once again, I hugged my side of the car.
As we pulled up to the mansion, my anxiety peaked and my heart sank. An SUV that looked an awful lot like the one the cabbie had cussed at for passing us sat in the drive, and Carter was just climbing out of it. There was little doubt in my mind that it had been him flying past, yet I was confused as to where he'd been since he wasn't with Dirk.
There wasn't time to dwell on it, or ask, as I was pulled from the car, Dirk's grip tight on my wrist despite my protest that he was hurting me. Really, my entire body still hurt, but at least the bruising had started to lighten in a few less-injured places. Dirk ignored me, but Carter took up behind us as I was herded up the stairs, and I wondered if Carter would step in if Dirk got too violent. He was my bodyguard after all—stood to reason he needed a living body to guard. Maybe I felt the tiniest bit bad for duping him, but it wasn’t like he’d have let me waltz off of the estate in an attempt to leave my insane spouse. No, he’d have done just what he did. Come after me, and presumably, tell Dirk where I was. I hadn't been at Mama's long enough for Dirk to have been too far behind me, but maybe they'd split up in case I went elsewhere—there no way there'd been enough time otherwise. Which meant I was being monitored much more closely than I'd thought. It didn't matter. Either way, I was still screwed, and it became apparent just how much a moment later.
After escorting me through the house to the hallway for our suite, Dirk's hand moved from its iron grip on my wrist to fist in my hair. He motioned for Carter to stay in the hall, dashing my hopes of rescue, not that I’d had much of one after his track record. Dirk proceeded to speed up, nearly dragging me through the living room and toward the door to his bedroom. It was enough of a surprise that I nearly lost hair because I'd veered toward mine, and I barely kept my feet as I tried to correct my trajectory.
"Dirk, please, I'm sorry," I shouted as he threw me onto the bed with his makeshift leash and jerked my shoes off. Terror had me scrambling to the center of the mattress in anticipation of what he would do. I wasn't worried about how many stands had come loose from my head or the sharp prickles of pain that came when they did—the fear of what he was about to do was forefront in my mind.
“Shut up, Shelby. I don’t want to hear it! I told you that you’d be sorry if you tried to leave me. You’re lucky I don’t punish your mother as well.” He ripped his polo shirt off before swiftly pulling his belt through the loops of his slacks as he railed at me. “Don’t know why you think she’d help you anyway after the way she treated you.” His pants hit the floor, followed closely by his boxers. I yelped and tried to pull away when he gripped the bottom of my leggings, but it didn't deter him from yanking me to the edge of the bed where he proceeded to tear my clothes off, leaving red welts anywhere a seam or elastic opening caught. “You’re my wife. You don’t get to leave!” He punctuated his tirade with a slap to my thigh that quelled any thought of struggling. I’d just cooperate until he was done, then make better plans to leave him for good.
If you're alive to leave again. How much of this do you actually think your body can take?
I had no idea, but I was about to find out. My chest constricted as I started to hyperventilate while tears formed in my eyes. Shoving me onto my front, Winston, for that's who was firmly in the driver's seat now, manipulated my limbs until I was facedown, hind end up, with a pillow under my hips. My entire body tensed as I awaited the first blow.
But it didn't come. Instead, hands pushed my thighs further apart, and a wet tongue ran up from my seam to my crack. I jolted in surprise but quickly held still again, afraid of another slap on my already sore and colorful skin. The worst of the welts on my bottom still had scabs.
My husband, I didn't even know who to think of him as anymore, continued to lave at the tender flesh until I relaxed into it. I didn't want to be aroused, and I wasn't mentally interested, but my body had other plans. As disgusted as I was with him, when he slipped his fingers into my wet core, I couldn't help but tighten around them.
Apparently, that was the go ahead he was looking for since he retreated then roughly pushed into me from behind a moment later. It was still uncomfortable due to his size and hard entry, but what was worse was the way he blanketed my body to rut into me with rapid jerks of his hips. Every inch of skin that touched or rubbed his cried out in discomfort or outright agony, but he was hitting that spot inside, the one that made my breaths pant and my insides pulse with every jabbing thrust.
"That's it, darling. You can take it. I don't know why I doubted you. You like a little pain with your pleasure. I don't need them if I have you." His nonstop chatter only punctuated that he still wasn't all there, but my mind was hung up on the word 'them.' Not that it mattered then, it wasn't like I was going to bring it up, but being cheated on with multiple women was somehow worse than one. "Come for me, Shelby. I need to feel it, to know you accept me."
It was on the tip of my tongue to snap back that I didn't accept him, but honestly, it was less painful than the beating. I didn't think I could take another one and crawl away from it. So instead, I closed my eyes and concentrated on the points of pleasure, trying to block everything else out. When he brought his fingers in to play over my clit, it accelerated the climb to my peak until I came without a sound. The monster using me for his own desires moaned something about being so good, but I didn't care, lying still as he pounded into me until he found his release.
After, he pulled me up into the bed and curled around my limp form, and that was where I fell asleep, in the arms of my nightmare.
* * *
The next week continued in much the same manner. I'd hide from Dirk around the house, pretending to be busy, and whenever he was around to hunt me down, he'd bend me over and take me as he fingered the nub at the top of my nether lips until I came around him. Then he'd finish in me and either pull my panties back up, or if we were in bed, he'd cuddle me like a dragon with his treasure and I'd be stuck there ‘til he woke up and left in the morning.
It was exhausting to say the least. I felt the situation was at its pinnacle, and it would either fall back and be relatively normal again, or it would tip over the edge and speed headfirst into a dark abyss. Neither option was palatable, but one was definitely the safer choice. I just didn't know how to induce the slide back into sanity.
As it happened, the choice ended up being out of my hands. While Nina was exiled from the mansion, a show of good faith in Dirk's opinion, rumors began to circulate about why she'd been abruptly dismissed. Each time I ventured out on my own with Carter in tow, for one social function or another to continue my networking endeavors, it inevitably invited questions and theories. I did my best to deflect or outright deny them, but it seemed to do little good. Besides that, I hadn't exactly made any bosom buddies. I was the outsider, a secondhand bauble that had been painted to resemble the genuine article, and it showed when I lost my temper. After one too many snide comments from one of the women that had been involved in the Perrier incident, I walked out of a charity brunch being thrown for a new library to be built in a poorer section of town.
In hindsight, I should have realized every single rumor and my response would be relayed to Dirk via Carter, but I was so stressed and afraid to give credence to any of it that I failed to see my actions through the eyes of the nut job I'd married. Or notice that he'd had Milo stalking me. I'd thought the both of them were busy with the 'project' that continued to take up so much of Dirk's time. The days and nights he had to be away were a blessing, so I didn't care what he was doing, just that I was left in relative peace during those times.
Unfortunately, after arriving home early, I wasn't in the best mood and went straight to my room to change into running shoes and sweats. We had dinner plans with Winston's father that evening, and I wanted to burn off my mad with a walk around the path that ran the property line before I had to deal with either of the Hamilton men. As I was rounding the garden, I picked up my pace, breaking out into a jog, only to have Dirk step out of the extension where the guards stayed.
“Shelby, darling, where exactly do you think you’re going?” The cold, lethal timbre of his voice stopped me in my tracks. I hadn’t exerted myself enough to affect my breathing, but it had picked up nonetheless as a frigid trickle of fear zipped down my spine.
“Just getting some exercise?” I asked in bewilderment. I wasn’t sure what I could have done to piss him off, but sometimes it didn’t matter if I had actually done anything or not. He used any little excuse to justify his roughness, then he’d claim I liked it.
“Your schedule says you’re supposed to be at an engagement. Do you need a new assistant to keep it updated?” The quirk of a dark brow lent more to the statement, but trying to figure out where he was going with it was futile.
With a sigh, I tried to explain, though it was certain my behavior would be deemed inappropriate. “Maria Potter was there. She had...some not-so-nice things to say, so I made my excuses and left.”