3. Roxie
ROXIE
I tried so hard to put it all behind me.
“Have a good night.”
Shutting the door behind our guests, I lock it before turning around. I don’t have time to brace myself for the slap Jace delivers. My cheek stings, and tears well in my eyes.
“What the hell?” I mutter.
“The next time we have people over for dinner, try not to flirt with anyone who has a penis,” he snarls as he reaches out to grab a fistful of my hair.
Jace drags me from the entryway and shoves me to the floor in the living room. He came home from work in a snit, and I was hoping that time with friends would improve his mood, but apparently it didn’t.
“I wasn’t flirting,” I insist, just as his foot connects with my ribs.
Jace wasn’t like this before we got engaged, but it’s like the moment he had a ring on my finger, a switch flipped. He became possessive, jealous, controlling, and, more recently, physical.
Shame washes over me as I curl into a ball to ward off more kicks.
If my brother could see me now…
Shuffle is the president of the one percent motorcycle club, Limitless Throttle MC, and he’d be disgusted if he saw his little sister not standing up for herself. He, along with the other brothers in the MC, taught me better than this. So much fucking better.
But you ran from them, from that life.
“Then what the fuck was that shit with Bradley?” he snarls. “You were all over him.”
I search my brain for what he’s talking about, and the only thing that comes to mind is when my hand brushed Bradley’s when I handed him the bottle of wine so he could top his glass off.
“Jesus, that’s what this is about?” I ask, knowing I should just keep my mouth shut.
He stiffens above me. “What the hell else would it be about? Oh, wait…” Jace leans down and yanks on the strap of my dress. “Maybe this slutty scrap of cloth.”
The strap snaps, and he pulls the material down my body until I’m in nothing but the black thong and kitten heels I’m wearing. Jace bought me the outfit a few weeks ago when we planned tonight’s dinner, so I don’t know what his problem is with it now.
I try to cross my arms over my bare chest, but he kicks my arms to stop the movement. Bending to grab a fistful of my hair, he drags me across the room toward the stairs.
“Get up,” he demands after releasing me. I scramble to my feet, and he shoves me forward. “Fucking walk.”
“I’m trying,” I snap as I take the first step, then the next.
Unsatisfied with my speed, Jace pushes past me and grabs my arm to pull me up the steps behind him. “I don’t have time for your shit,” he snarls.
“What shit?” I ask.
He doesn’t respond as he takes me into the bedroom. “Don’t move,” he orders before dropping my arm and storming into the adjoining bath.
My mind spins as I recall the events of the evening.
I can’t pinpoint the exact moment Jace’s anger took over.
Lately, it’s become increasingly difficult to dissect his moods and spot red flags.
While I wait for him to return from the bathroom, one thought keeps popping into my mind: What more can he do to me?
Murder.
That word enters my brain unbidden, and I cringe at how easily it came. I’ve been around violence, death, and all sorts of bad shit, but I tried so hard to put it all behind me.
“I told you not to move,” Jace barks when he steps back into the bedroom.
I snap my head up at his voice and realize that, at some point, I sat on the edge of the bed. He stalks toward me, rage turning his cheeks a deep red, and slams his fist into my face when he reaches me.
Time passes in a blur as he continues to deliver blow after blow. I do my best to fight back, but it’s useless. I’ve never experienced Jace’s wrath when he’s this far gone, and I’m unable to anticipate his moves because his actions are all over the place.
By the time he stomps out of the room, my entire body is on fire, and I can barely move. Blood is spattered all over the comforter, floor, and walls. Agony tears through me as I try to get to my feet.
I collapse three times before I make it to the door. Bracing myself against the frame, I try to catch my breath, but inhaling threatens to send me to my knees. I take a moment to mentally catalogue my injuries.
Broken ribs… check.
Unknown number of bruises… check.
Possible broken cheekbone… check.
Beyond that, I have no idea. And honestly, I’m not sure I want to know. Tears stream down my cheeks, and the salty taste mixes with the blood when they reach my lips. I lift my arm, ignoring the pain, and brush away the wetness.
I’m exhausted, but I can’t stop. I need to get to my cell downstairs. When Jace was done, I heard the front door slam, so I know he’s gone, but I have no clue how much time I have before he returns.
When I finally make it to the first floor, every inch of me wants to fall onto the couch and pass out, but I force myself to go to the kitchen and grab my phone off the counter.
Me: I need u guys… 911
I hit send and the message appears in the group thread I have with Sammie, Greg, and Melody. For all I know, they could be busy, but I’m counting on at least one of them seeing the text and coming to my rescue.
Almost instantly, my phone pings multiple times with responses.
Greg: What happened?
Melody: On my way
Greg: Be there in 10
Sammie: Gotta throw on clothes but I’m coming
Melody: Need police?
Sammie: Ambulance?
Me: No police or ambo. Jace lost his shit. Gotta get outta here
Greg: I’ll kill him!
Sammie: Bringing the shovel!
Melody: I have no prob digging a grave
Relief floods my system at their reaction. I collapse on the couch and wait for them to arrive. As I wait, my brain races. I need to leave, get as far away from Jace as I can, but I’m pretty sure driving right now is out of the question.
What other choice do you have?
I may have lost my way and become his doormat, but I refuse to let it continue. He took it too far tonight, and I’ll be damned if I do nothing.
“Rox, where are you?”
Sammie’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I try to sit up. “On the couch,” I call out when I can’t stand.
She rushes around the sofa until she stands in front of me.
“Motherfucker,” she breaths. “You’re leaving him, Rox. I don’t care how much you love him, but there’s no excuse for this.”
I nod. “I know.”
“I’m here!” Greg calls out from the entryway.
“We’re in the living room,” Sammie replies. “And brace yourself because it’s not pretty.”
I wince at her words, knowing I have to look terrible. Shit, I feel terrible.
“Oh my God,” Greg mutters when he sees me. “Jace did this?”
“Of course, Jace did this,” Sammie snaps.
“What did Jace…” Melody’s voice trails off when she joins the other two in front of me. “That’s it, you’re leaving… tonight.”
“I know,” I repeat. “But I don’t think I can drive.”
My three friends exchange a look, but it’s Sammie who offers an alternative. “I’ll drive you a few hours away and get you settled into a hotel. You could come to one of our houses, but he’d find you there.”
“I can’t ask you?—”
“You’re not asking,” Melody snaps.
I release a breath and nod. “Yeah, okay.”
“My SUV can fit quite a bit, so let’s get everything we can and load it up,” Sammie states. “You’re not coming back for anything.”
More tears fill my eyes. “I… I don’t think… I don’t think I can help pack anything,” I admit.
“That’s fine,” Greg says with a sympathetic smile. “Just tell us what to get, and we’ll do the rest.”
Melody lifts her hand like she’s a student in class. “Uh, any clue when Jace’ll be back?” I shake my head. “Then let’s make this quick.”
Thirty minutes later, Greg is helping me into the passenger seat of Sammie’s vehicle, and the back is loaded down with my things. Once I’m settled, he kisses me on the cheek.
“I’m gonna miss you,” he tells me. “But as long as you’re safe, that’s all that matters.”
My throat clogs with emotion. The pain is now bearable thanks to the pain pill Melody gave me. Fortunately, she had a tooth pulled earlier in the week and had one to spare. She put the rest of her prescription in my purse despite my protests, insisting that I needed it more than she did.
“I can’t thank you enough,” I say to Greg and Melody, who’s now standing next to him.
“I hate to break this up, but we should go,” Sammie says as she slides into the driver’s seat and starts the engine.
“Right,” Melody states. “Maybe this would be a good time for you to reconnect with your family.”
“Maybe,” I whisper, knowing the last place I can go is to my brother. At least, not until I’ve healed.
“Be safe,” Greg says as he closes the door.
“Ready?” Sammie asks, putting the SUV in gear.
I swallow past the lump in my throat. “As I’ll ever be.”