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I want to rub myself against him and that maddening spicy ginger scent of his. But at the same time, I can see the darkness in his eyes, and I know he’s not gentle with everyone he meets. I don’t know if it makes me feel better or worse that he’s treated me so.

I direct the car to pull up down from the property, and thankfully, he doesn’t argue with me about it. As I climb out, I give him a bright smile as if I do this every day. Then I stand on the side of the road until he finally pulls away.

Now I just need to get back into the house without anyone seeing me. Rose is supposed to keep watch for me, but if she’s running interference, then I’ll have to fend for myself. I take off my shoes this time, determined not to break an ankle, and reach my bedroom window easily. It’s dark inside, but the window slides up easily and silently, allowing me to not-so-gracefully climb over the ledge and into my bedroom.

I don’t make it even a step before something catches my hair and levers me back. At first, I think it’s the window, that my unruly mess of a head got stuck on it somehow, but then the darkness lifts enough for me to see Sal standing right inside, lying in wait for me.

I hit the floor next, barely getting my hands under me to break the fall. Pain shoots up my right arm and into my elbow, but I don’t have time to consider it. I scramble forward, intent to get my feet under me and escape, but I don’t get far. His heavy boot connects with my ribs, and I lift up enough with the force of the strike to fall back down hard. More pain. Every inhale now hurts, and I cough a few times, ragged and wet. That can’t be good.

Sal crouches beside me, his boot almost at eye level, and captures my hand in his. It yanks me off balance, and my shoulder rubs hard across the hardwood.

“I see we’ve been busy tonight,” he spits at me.

I peer up at him and see his eyes locked on the black stamp smudged across the back of my hand.

I want to yank my hand from his grip, but he’ll only hurt me worse for fighting back, so I stay still. He wants me to give him a reason to hit me, so I turn my eyes on the floor, even as tears begin to fall against my will.

“You’ve got nothing to say for yourself, you fucking whore?”

I want to defend myself, but can I really? I’d stripped naked for a stranger as a down payment to kill my fiancé. Not something I can exactly use in my defense. It doesn’t matter, though, because he doesn’t want me to say anything. Again, he wants any excuse to hurt me, and talking will only give him more opportunities.

I let out another gurgling cough and taste blood in my mouth. Shit. Rose and my Dr. Google medical tips were likely going to have a tough time with internal bleeding. Not like I can throw an Ace bandage on it and call it a day.

Sal’s grip digs in tighter as he pulls my hand up to his face. Then he licks the ink there, his tongue wet and hot and thoroughly disgusting. I barely keep my face neutral as bile rushes up my throat. Puking on him will not help the situation.

I study the floor and the tiny droplets of my blood splattered underneath me. Blood dripped out of my mouth, and I hadn’t even realized. Hm. Interesting.

It’s okay, though, because I feel myself sliding into that sleepy place. A little pocket of the world where I can go when Sal beats on me. A place to feel nothing until the brutality stops, and I can pick up the pieces that are left. Or Rose can.

It hits me that with him here, I haven’t seen her. She should be here waiting for me. I can’t ask him because drawing attention to her might make things worse, but my worry slips underneath the calm I’d been building enough to fracture it. If something happens to her, then he’ll have finally broken me.

I’m dragged to my feet, his arms around my waist, but I can’t stand. The pain from his grip around my ribs is too much. My vision swims in and out of focus, and while he screams, spit flying in my face, all I can think about is Rose and that I hope she stays hidden, safe.

And I hope she doesn’t see what’s left of me when Sal finishes this. I can see it in his eyes that he wants to kill me. He wants to watch the life leave my eyes just like he watches in those videos of his.


Tags: J.L. Beck Crime