Chapter 16
“PUKE” EMINEM
J ustin and I sit at a table in a five-star restaurant he picked out for our brunch date. I would have preferred eating at Susana’s, but my lovely fiancé sneers at “poor” people.
If I stab myself in the ear with this knife, would I die immediately or would I just damage my eardrum? I guess it might be up to how hard I stab myself. I don’t think I could plunge the knife deep enough to kill myself. The pain would stop me from ending my life.
Besides, what the fuck kind of death is that? Shooting myself would be easier, but I don’t have a gun.
I don’t want to die, but I feel so trapped. I’m suffocating. The money I’m saving isn’t building up fast enough. My dad wants nothing to do with me. The only thing he cares about is my looming marriage to Justin. It’s all he talks about when he spares me attention.
My life is out of control. I have no control.
Justin finishes texting whoever he’s been talking to for the past fifteen minutes. He locks his phone and sets it face down on the table, then turns his full attention to me. I shudder at the coldness in his eyes and how he looks at me like I’m an object and not a person.
“Isn’t this wonderful?” He relaxes in his seat while fixing the cuffs of his business jacket. When he can’t straighten them anymore, he moves on to pluck invisible lint off his arms.
I cast a disinterested eye around the room and sip my mimosa. The alcohol is helping with the anxiety and thoughts of harming myself, but it’s still not enough. If I had it my way, I’d drink until I’m on the floor.
Justin frowns and folds his arms over his chest, his index finger tapping his bicep. “I bought you a ten-grand diamond ring. Spoil you with new clothes every week. I lavish you with expensive meals and drinks.”
I down the rest of my mimosa and set the empty glass on the table. My focus lingers on the cup. “Where are you going with this?”
“Glad you asked.” Justin’s smile lacks amusement and is more sarcastic. “I do these things and more, and yet you’re still ungrateful. You treat me like a stranger.”
The meals he’s ordered for me were foods I hate or can’t eat because of my allergy.
The ten-grand engagement ring is a sign of ownership and class.
It’s also the ugliest ring I’ve ever laid eyes on.
There’s no way in hell I’m ever being seen with that thing on my finger.
Also, he purposely left out the details about buying me clothes I can’t fit in.
When I told him they weren’t my size, he had something to say about that.
“Think of it as motivation for when you melt off that weight,” he’d said .
We have very different worldviews where finances are concerned as well. Money never meant anything to me. I’d rather struggle in life and have the best time while doing so. It’s unfortunate I can’t do that right now, as I’m trying to escape this rotten bastard across from me.
Has Justin ever gone to a carnival during the summer? Has he shared cotton candy with someone he likes while talking about something other than money, power, or sex? Did he ever skinny-dip after his friends dared him?
No. I don’t think he has, and it shows.
But back to the matter at hand...I treat Justin like a stranger because he is one. “Maybe you should call off the wedding then,” I say.
“Oh, please, Madison.” Justin scoffs. “You don’t need to be so dramatic and emotional.”
My fingers curl in my lap. It takes every bit of self-control to keep my mouth shut.
If I insult him, I’ll only prove him right about being emotional .
He’ll then go to my father and tell him everything I said and how ungrateful I am, and then I’ll have to deal with Dad laying into me when I go home.
I have way more important things to deal with than my volatile father.
Justin sweeps his gaze around the room, drawing out a long pause. He’s good at building my anxiety until I’m dreading what he’ll say next. Only two other couples sit at tables, quietly chatting while enjoying their expensive meals made up of small portions.
Justin returns his attention to me and sits a little straighter. He keeps his voice lowered as he says, “What happened to the ring, wife?”
I force a smile. “Must’ve slipped off my finger when I wasn’t paying attention.”
Justin arches an eyebrow and glances at my left hand. He doesn’t need to say what he’s thinking out loud because it’s clear as day on his face.
“I had it fitted to you perfectly,” he says.
I shift in my seat and wince at the dull pain in my bottom. Warmth crawls up my neck, forcing me to avert my gaze so he doesn’t see my shame. If he found out what my brother did to me, he’d kill Ryder, then me.
“Well?” Justin snaps.
“What do you want me to say?”
“You can first apologize to me, then lose the attitude and be the docile wife you’re supposed to be.” Justin’s phone vibrates, and he picks it up to read the message.
My cheeks flush. I glare at him while he’s too busy texting. “I’m not your wife.”
“ Yet ,” he says without looking up. “But you will be soon. Now apologize so we can move on from this and have a better morning.”
I relax as much as I can into my seat while keeping my lips sealed.
No way in hell am I giving him what he wants.
Justin lowers his phone and peeks at me from beneath his lashes. If he weren’t glaring at me, I would have thought he was cute. All that ugliness in his heart makes his outward appearance disgusting.
“Is this what you really want to do?” he says.
I fold my arms across my chest, refusing to look away from him as we have a staring contest. I hate looking into people’s eyes because it brings way too much anxiety, but I can be stubborn when I want to be. Justin tends to bring that stubborn side out of me.
My fiancé tucks his phone into his jacket pocket and stands. He checks the room and smooths the wrinkles over his chest before closing the small space between us in a single stride. He grabs my upper arm and ignores my surprised yelp as he jerks me out of my seat.
“Don’t create a scene, wife,” he growls in my ear.
I stumble to keep up with him while he drags me away from the table. Partly from the strong drink I had, but also because Justin is treating me like a rag doll as he rushes me through the dining area to the restrooms in the back.
“Let go of me,” I snap.
Ignoring me, he opens the men’s bathroom and shoves me inside. The door shuts behind him, and he locks the deadbolt. My stomach sinks with dread. I back away from him and check the area for another door or even a window to slip through.
Warning bells go off in my head.
Justin loosens his tie and prowls toward me. “Since you don’t want to apologize with words, you can with your mouth.”
My jaw falls open, and I scramble backward. “We can’t do anything until we’re married.”
“Says who?” He snatches my arm, his fingers digging into the tender flesh.
“My father,” I stammer.
Shadows creep over Justin’s features. “Your father doesn’t give a fuck, but he won’t know about this. Kneel.”
I shake my head and slap the hand gripping me. “I’m not sucking your cock!”
Justin throws his head back and laughs. “You think you have a choice?”
My pulse thunders in my ears, drowning out my voice as I fight Justin off. He swats my hands mid-air, then shoves me against a stall with a growl.
“No!” I scream.
Ignoring me, Justin forces me onto my knees and keeps a hand in my hair to hold me in place while I struggle. My heart palpitates, and a cold sweat breaks out on my skin as he undoes his pants with his other hand.
“I told you, I’m not sucking your dick!” Tears sting my eyes, and I suck in ragged breaths as a panic attack rises until it’s choking me.
Justin’s four-inch, pencil-thin erection springs free from his pants. Pre-cum leaks from the circumcised tip, and he smears it with his thumb while guiding it to my mouth.
I jerk back and shove his thighs. “I’m not putting that thing in my mouth.”
“You had your chance to apologize.” Justin’s fingers tighten in my hair, and he jerks me forward until his dick rubs against my closed lips.
“I gave you enough time, and you decided to keep your mouth shut. You need to be put in your place, wife, and I’m more than willing to do the work to make you submit to me. Now open your filthy mouth and suck.”
The tears blur my vision as I glare up at Justin. He stares back down at me, seeming bored, but his eyes speak the most. They’re full of hatred, lust, and an emotion I can't put my finger on. He still looks at me like I’m an object, with no trace of regret or hesitation.
Justin’s nostrils flare when I keep my lips pinched shut. He releases his erection and pinches my nose. I push and scratch at his legs, digging my nails into his exposed skin as much as I can.
The only reaction I get out of him is a hissed breath and a muttered, “Stupid slut.”
My lungs burn from the lack of oxygen. Any second now and I’ll have to open my mouth to breathe. Justin will take advantage and shove his tiny penis into my mouth.
What did I do in life to deserve this?
No one heard me yelling. No one has knocked on the door to check on us. No one cares about me. Now I’m about to be raped, and even then, no one will care to help me.
With the remaining fight I have left in me, I open my mouth and sink my teeth into Justin’s cock. He bellows and jerks away from me, his hand disappearing from my hair. I dig my teeth into the sensitive skin, refusing to let go.
“You little bitch!” he roars, and punches the top of my head.
I grunt and fall backward, black dots creeping into my vision. My skull throbs like a heartbeat, and my back arches as fire radiates to my shoulders.
Justin stumbles back and cups his groin. “You fucking bit me!”
Ignoring the pain, I leap to my feet and dodge him as he makes pathetic noises while checking his manhood.
I unlock the door and run out of the bathroom, ignoring him as he calls my name.
I duck my head as I run through the restaurant to the front door.
Tears stream down my cheeks, making it hard to see, and I nearly run into a table.
“Madison!” Justin yells.
Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look.
I peek over my shoulder, curious how close he is. My eyes widen. Justin storms through the restaurant, ignoring the stares we’re getting from the waiters and patrons. His body language screams murder, and I’m certain he plans to do far worse to me than shoving his dick in my mouth.
I bolt out the front door and into the cold morning. The cool air refreshes my overheated skin. I widen my strides as I run from Justin, who’s hot on my heels.
Someone help me.
Please.
The crowd around the restaurant in the heart of downtown isn’t as congested as it is in the summer. I sprint down the sidewalk, barely avoiding colliding with an older woman.
“Madison!” Justin yells. “Get back here!”
Justin drove this morning, so I don’t have my car. There is no way for me to get away from him. I’m terrified to go back home because he knows where I live.
A scream lodges in my throat.
Someone help me. Take me away from here, please.
I cross the road and go down another block, hoping it’s enough to lose Justin. I glance over my shoulder and whimper. The asshole is still chasing me. I turn forward and grunt as I slam into a warm, hard wall. Large hands land on my hips and squeeze. I gasp and look up.