“That’s good at least.”
“Yes, it could have been much worse. But, we have a couple concerns.”
“Concerns?”
“Yes. Do you have anyone that would have a reason for wanting to cause damage to your club?”
“Want to cause damage?”
My head whirls at the thought, “I’m confused, what are you suggesting?”
They completely ignore my question, “Mr. Easton, we are going to need you to hang around until Detective Goldridge gets here to ask you a few questions.”
23.
PRINCESS
Olivia
After Luke leaves
, I find myself standing in the kitchen with the refrigerator door open, trying to determine what I’d like to make myself for breakfast. I know I should feel guilty for lying to Luke about Pyper being on her way, but when I called her and got her voicemail, I reacted. His club is important, and he needed to be there. I locked the door behind him, I’ll be fine. I need to go set the alarm though – but first breakfast.
I decide on eggs with ham and cheese
, since it is one of the only things I know how to cook. I may not be able to boil an egg, but I can sure as hell stir them in a pan. It’s likely they will only be a little burned. I
pull the ingredients I need from the refrigerator, when I hear the front door open and close. I spin around with a smile on my face, wondering what would have brought Luke back so soon.
“Hey babe, what happened?”
The person I see walk into the kitchen makes my face fall instantly, and my blood run cold.
Every hair on my body stands at attention and a feeling of foreboding enters my stomach, making me want to vomit. My body starts to shake as fear sets in.
“Hello, princess.”
Everything I’m holding crashes to the floor, and I want to join them. Deacon stands before me looking as though he has all the right in the world to be standing in my kitchen. He leans his hip against the counter, crosses his arms across his chest and looks me up and down with a mocking smile upon his lips. His eyes almost bring me to my knees. Hard, unfeeling and full of lust, I can see the determination in them to get his way. Fear fills my whole body, paralyzing me.
“What’s wrong, princess?
Too surprised to greet me with a proper hello?” He starts walking towards me while speaking and for each little step he takes, I back up with one of my own.
“Wh-what are you doing here, Deacon?”
My voice is shaking with each word.
He rolls his eyes with a careless gesture that puts me even more on edge.
It’s like he really doesn’t think he’s doing anything wrong. “Well, isn’t it obvious? I’m here for you. Your time’s up. It’s time to come back to me now.”
“Are you crazy?
I’m not going anywhere with you! Get out of here before I call the police!”
The smile on his lips disappears and a hard look covers his face.
I can see he’s clenching his teeth by the way his jaw tightens on both sides. He’s so close to me now, my nose is at his chest and his toes are touching mine. I raise my eyes one slow inch at a time until I reach his face. He moves his face inches from my own. His breath is warm on my face, and the stench of alcohol makes me wince.
“I’ve been biding my time, waiting for the right moment to see you agai
n. I’ve missed you, princess.”
He runs his hand along the side of my face and I turn my head away, trying to get as far from him as I can.
“Don’t fucking look away from me,” he spits while at the same time yanking my chin so hard it makes me face him again. His fingers are digging into my chin and I know he’s going to leave bruises.
“How many times do I have to
tell you? You belong to me.”
“No, Deacon,” tears pool in my eyes, “I don’t.”
It’s hard to speak with him gripping my chin so hard, but I refuse to make this easy for him.
“Stop playing hard to get, it’s starting to piss me off.
You know as well as I do that I’m the one you want to be with. Now go get dressed, get your things, and let’s go.”
As he’s talking, his hands have grasped my upper arms, his fingers digging into my flesh, causing me to grit my teeth.
“I’m. Not. Going. Anywhere. With. You.” Maybe enunciating each word will help my comments penetrate his crazy, fucked up mind.
He shakes me hard, making my back smack against the counter behind me.
A burst of pain runs up my spine, making me cry out. “You do not want to fight me on this, Olivia. Now let’s go; get your shit, so we can get out of here. You’re lucky I’m even letting you do that much.”
“Okay,” I whisper, putting my hands up in an “I surrender” gesture.
My eyes dart to either side of him, and I think if I can make it down the hall to my room, I can get to my phone and call for help. As soon as he steps away clearing my way to my room, I take off.
I run as fast as I can out of the kitchen and past the living room and just make it to my bedroom door when suddenly, I feel the air burst out of me in a whoosh.
It takes me a second to realize I’m airborne and heading towards the ground quickly. Deacon has tackled me. When I land on the floor, we slide a few inches, and I feel fire on the palms of my hands and knees from my skin rubbing against the carpet. My already injured cheek hits the ground and I hear something crunch.
I would cry out in pain if I could, but I can’t because Deacon’s body is pressing mine into the floor and taking a complete breath is impossible.
I’m trying to suck in air, but I can’t, and it makes my chest hurt. Water leaks from my eyes when Deacon rolls me over. He pins my wrists to the ground next to my shoulders while adjusting his weight to straddle my hips.
I wish I had been able to run faster, but with this stupid cast on my leg, I’m already at a major disadvantage.
I knew it would be hard, nearly impossible to outrun him, but I had to try.
Bringing his face so close to mine, our noses almost touch, Deacon says, “You are going to regret that, you
bitch. I’m done playing nice.”
A sound that I hope sounds like me trying to laugh, comes out of my mouth.
I’m able to take short, shallow breaths now. I try to focus on breathing deeper.
“What were you hoping to accomplish, princess?
Did you really think I was just going to let you run away to your room and call the police?”
I wriggle my arms in his hands, trying with all I have to get loose from him.
But he’s too big and too heavy.
“Baby, you are hurting me.
How could you forget the times we shared together? The times we laughed, talked, and made love? Don’t you remember? How much we love each other? I know I made mistakes, but I apologized for the other women already. I’m done apologizing to you.”
I just shake my head back and forth slowly, not because I don’t remember the good times but because I don’t want to.
The bad times more than outweigh the good, and what does it matter? I couldn’t love him or forgive him again even if I wanted to. I am completely owned by a dark-haired, blue-eyed man who had my heart from the time we were teenagers. As Deacon starts trailing his fingers up my leg, I do my best to block it out. I close my eyes. I picture another above me. His smile, his hair ruffled from all the times he runs his hands through it. I see his eyes shining with love and happiness and my heart bursts at the image I created. I love him so much, and I know he loves me. The way I’ve been acting. It’s so stupid. He loves all of me, no matter what. As I love him.
My thoughts are scattered when I feel Deacon has released my wrists in order to separate my robe.
He curses under his breath when he reveals the hot pink chemise with lace panels that I’m wearing underneath. “Oh baby, I missed you. Maybe you just need to be reminded of our time together.”
When he trails his fingers down the middle of my breasts and then over to one, squeezing my nipple hard, I panic.
Dread fills me at the look of unbridled lust Deacon has in his eyes as he watches himself touch me in rapt fascination. I start to fight.
“NO!
NO! NO! Stop, Deacon please. Stop touching me! I don’t want your hands on me!” I smack him over and over and try to land punches. Even though he’s sitting on my hips, I start kicking my legs as if I’m swimming, trying to knock him off of me in the process.
“Knock it off, you bitch!”
He gets furious when a couple of my elbow jabs somehow make contact. He takes one hand and wraps it around my throat – tight - choking off my air supply and I tell myself not to panic, to conserve whatever oxygen I can. I do my best to pull them from my neck. I claw my fingernails into his skin, and jab at him with all my might. I know I break skin when I feel the warm, wet liquid under my fingers, but Deacon makes no indication that I’m hurting him in any way.
His other hand moves my robe to the side once again and he pulls my chemise up to my waist, exposing my black panties underneath.
He loosens his grip just a little, which makes me gulp for air, but as he lowers his mouth to my throat again and alternates licking and biting me, his grip tightens once more. I’m running out of strength. I’m still trying to claw at his hands, but my attempts feel halfhearted at best now.
Deacon is completely unfazed and pulls the fabric away from my breasts.
As I’m starting to see black around the edges of my vision, his mouth moves to one of my exposed breasts. I realize that his face is within reach. With all the strength and anger I have I give him a good whack across the face. He immediately lets go of me, grabs his cheek, shrieks out with pain and I take in huge desperate gasps of air.
Seething with anger, he spews words at me like venom. “Fine, I guess we are going to have to do this the hard way.”
I look at him and recognize that from somewhere he has produced a roll of duct tape. He sits down even harder on my hips, making me bear the full weight of his frame feeling like it will crush me. He pulls the tape away from the roll and grabs both of my hands, yanking my wrists together in an unnatural and uncomfortable way with one hand, while he wraps massive amounts of tape around them with the other. The tape is so tight that my hands immediately start tingling with loss of circulation and feeling begins to escape me.
When they are taped to his satisfaction, he stands up.
I immediately start flailing my legs again only to hear him curse at me as he reaches for my ankles and wraps them up in tape as well.
“No!” My voice sounds raspy and comes out in a whisper, “No, please.
Don’t do this! I promise, I promise to behave. Please, please don’t.” I can hear my phone ringing and I wish more than anything I could answer it.
“Stop begging.
You’re out of chances. This is all your fault! If you would have listened the first time, this wouldn’t be happening.”
“I promise
now. I promise now to listen.”
He just ignores me, “I’m really tired of having to be intimate with you restrained in some way.
First it was drugged all the time and now this. Where is the fun in that?”
Everything in me stills at his words.
I can’t move, I can’t breathe.
“I tried several times to just not care and have sex with you anyway.
I mean, it isn’t like that would be a whole lot different than when we had sex when you were coherent, am I right?” He laughs at his own joke, “I mean, why do you think I had to find sex outside of the marriage too?”
He looks down at me and gives me an evil smirk, one that will haunt me for a very long time, if I get out of this.
His eyes chill me to my core. They look empty. I don’t even know who he is anymore. I don’t know if I ever really knew him to begin with.
“So, we never had sex?
All the times you kept me drugged and tied up, or locked in the room you never touched me?”
“Now I never said that.
Touched you? Sure. But sex? No way. What do you think I am? Crazy? I tried, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Especially when Ronnie told me I should anyway. He was completely nuts!”
I can’t help but feel relief at his words.
All this time, not being sure if I was raped or not has been horrible. I know he still touched me and it’s all still awful, but somehow, in some way, the horror of it all lessens just a little.
“It is too bad though that Ronnie isn’t here to see this.
He’s an old juvie buddy, you know. I don’t know if I ever introduced you properly. He inherited that property you were at from his aunt after he killed her.” My eyes widen, making Deacon laugh, “Yeah ‘ol Ronnie had his issues, but Aunt Louise was a real bitch. Anyway, he told me one too many times that going after you was crazy and I was wasting my time. We got drunk one night and he started in on me again, so I went a little too far when I beat the shit out of him. That bastard deserved it. He would have only been in the way, although it sure would be nice to rub his face in it now.
“You’re insane.”
“Aw baby, I’m just insane for you. You are the one who makes me do this. It’s all your fault. If you had just stayed with me, none of this would have happened.”
He sits down on my hips once again and takes my chemise in both of his hands.
He pulls and rips it down the middle, making rage burn in my chest.
“I don’t want to be with you, Deacon!
Why don’t you GET THAT?!”
He has totally turned me off and doesn’t hear me at all anymore, “This isn’t exactly what I had in mind, but you know, it’s still better than being drugged.
At least you’re coherent. I’m good with that. I couldn’t do it before because you were so out of it, it isn’t like you could reciprocate. This dick can’t suck itself, you know what I mean?”