But first, she needed to get home.They say you can never go home again. Those people probably don’t call Australia home.
19
Jasmine rolledher eyes and barely suppressed a yawn as Adam kept thrusting on top of her. He gritted his teeth and grunted so hard his sweaty forehead creased as he came.
“Now that...” he began breathlessly, rolling off her, “was a great fuck session. Why can’t you open your legs like this more often?”
It wasn’t really a question, so Jasmine didn’t see fit to answer it, Instead, she gingerly got out of bed and headed to the bathroom, unsteady on her feet. She closed the door behind her just before reaching into the bathroom cupboard and pulling out the toilet cleaner. Unscrewing the cap, she turned it over and out popped a small wrapped up piece of tissue. She unfurled it and popped one of the pills revealed, drinking it with a gulp of water.
One way to tolerate the hideous sex was knowing no kids would result from it. Their parents had been asking about grandkids from the day of their marriage. The answer was always the same. Adam would either smack her arse or place his arm around her, saying things like, “I’m giving her all I’ve got. She’ll crack soon.”
Jasmine always forced a smile alongside the laughter that ensued from everyone as if her ability to have kids was some sort of joke. She was getting fucked senseless at least twice a day, and all any of them could do was give Adam a high five. Maybe if things were different, maybe if she was happy, she could’ve joined in the fun. But she wasn’t.
No one knew, and she would never tell anyone, but not only wasn’t she happy, in her mind she wasn’t even part of the marriage. Everyone asked Adam how things were, when were kids coming. Never her. Jasmine felt like just the uterus he aimed his sperm at. That was it.
She showered and dried herself, making sure to check for any bite marks. Thankfully, there were none; otherwise, they would’ve determined which outfit she would’ve had to wear. She could deal with shit sex. Hell, she had planned for letting him go as much as he could. Anything, so long as he left her alone for a few hours. Slept it off. Whatever. But she couldn’t deal with taking extra time to pick out an outfit that would cover up what he’d done to her body.
She had planned everything for days. Would’ve done anything to catch that plane heading in from the States. But in her need to wear him out, to let him brutalise her body for the eighth straight time, she’d be lucky if she wasn’t too late.
Ava didn’t know if it was the drugs she had been given but the trip from the hospital to the airport was a blur. To avoid the media, she was put into a wheelchair and taken through the back entry of the hospital to a waiting town car. It worked, mostly. They were spotted getting into the transport but only by a few straggling paparazzi camped outside the security gate. They might have gotten some snaps of her with a long-range zoom lens, but she didn’t really care.
The airline had been notified of their arrival, and security received them in a special bay. Where ‘celebrities’ were checked in she figured. Was that what she was now?Meh. She certainly didn’t feel like one being wheeled through the winding halls to the aircraft.
The staff were super nice, but she slept for most of the trip, so it felt like it lasted for about three hours instead of almost fifteen. Yet she didn’t feel rested. If anything, she felt even more tired.
She wanted to walk so the boys wouldn’t have to push her, but she knew there was no point. She was too exhausted, and they would just make her sit anyway.
She silently thanked the airline and airport staff for helping her get out of the airport. Surprisingly, she was thousands of miles away from America, but the transport looked identical.
She spent the drive home sleeping on Ruben’s shoulder though it was difficult with the new cologne he was wearing. It was overwhelming compared to his usual scent. She wondered why the sudden drastic change, but they pulled up and yet again were faced with the media.
“Don’t worry, Miss. I’ll handle this,” the driver said, getting out. He blocked the car from roughly twenty people, but soon his back was pressed against it. The journalists were savage, screaming Ava’s name, cameras flashing.
The car jolted from the mass of people on both sides. Chris screamed at them to get back, but they didn’t hear or care. Flashing away and yelling but not letting them get out. Another jolt sent Ava’s leg from its resting place to the floor. She screamed and gripped it as Ruben swore and grabbed her, trying to keep her steady. But it wasn’t easy when those on the street suddenly jolted them again in their haste to outrun a car that had come barreling down the road, it’s horn blaring. It screeched to a halt, then reversed hard before moving forward again.
“Back up. When we get out, they’ll rush over. So you get out the opposite side and open the front door,” Chris hissed, using the space and time afforded by the other car to scoop Ava up in his arms. He shouldered the door open, and just as he predicted, the pack moved to where they got out, yelling and snapping their pictures. Ava buried her face in Chris’ chest as he pushed and swore his way towards the house. “No comment. No comment! Back off you cunts. Fuck off!”
Ava felt the temperature cool as they crossed the threshold into the air-conditioned house, yet the frantic yelling and questions continued outside. Ruben was still holding the door open, calling out to someone, then screaming at the paparazzi. Chris placed Ava gently down on the couch in the back room.
“Just relax. I’ll go help him,” he said, then jogged down the hallway and out of sight.
Ava tried, briefly, to bend and look down the hall, but it was impossible. And all she heard was the boys shouting over the madness and then the door slamming.
“Everything’s OK!” Ruben called. “We just had to get her in.”
Ava was saved from wondering who ‘she’ was when Jasmine appeared from the hallway, shaking her hair and offering a tiny wave.
“Hey there.”
Ava was speechless. Was that who was in the car that helped them? Rescued them, really.
Thankfully, Jasmine seemed to have anticipated questions and spoke rather casually when the silence between them lengthened. “I saw what happened. I watched the fight on the news, and I’ve been messaging Ruben ever since. I heard you were coming in today and wanted to wish you a welcome home.” She sat down next to Ava, giving a small sigh and smile as if what she had just done outside was nothing. The silence was still like a thickness in the air, only broken by Jasmine brushing a strand of Ava’s hair from her face, gently bypassing her injuries. “Jesus, you poor thing. How are you feeling?”
Ava stared at her for the longest time, wondering if it was a dream, hoping it was real. She woke herself up in time to softly shake her head and tap her fingers on her throat.
“I know,” Jasmine replied gently. “I’d take a hand signal. Write a note if you have to.”
Ava gave a small smile and mouthed,I’m OK... thank you.