Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Alicia
The sound of Jellybean scratching at the door, and the feel of a full bladder that's desperately begging to be emptied rouses me from my sleep. The aching crook in my neck has me groaning as I lift myself into a sitting position.
My arm tugs me back down, and that's when my sore eyes shoot open as the events of last night carousel inside my mind. I glare at the cuff around my wrist, trapping me here.
Pain shooting through my abdomen, from needing to piss so badly, has me hastily pulling at the cuffs, but I know it's no use. They won't break. I learnt that last time.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I cross my bare legs, feeling the mortification wash over me from the fresh memory of why they're currently bare.
Disgust flows through me when I think about how I willingly allowed him to pleasure me, encouraging him, showing how desperate I was for him, just for him to pull away from me as soon as we'd both finished, and look at me with regret.
I understand we were both clearly lost in a daze last night, acting without logical thoughts processing in either of our brains, but to look at me like he did, and then rush out of the room instantly made me feel cheap and used.
It proved to me he doesn't give two shits about how I feel or how his actions affect me.
All he cares about is himself.
That shouldn't make me angry, because I expected it. I didn't come into this marriage with false hope.
I knew what I was getting myself into.
I just assumed him being jealous and angry over the thought of me with someone else, and him coming onto me last night, showing he's obviously attracted to me, meant that he felt some sort of way towards me other than hatred, but I must've been mistaken.
The more I think about him, the more infuriated I become, yanking harder on the metal cuff, making the bedframe shake slightly.
With each failed tug and the cramping pain forming in my stomach, I stare at my hand, devising a plan I'll most likely regret.
Sighing, I straighten my shoulders, readying myself for what I'm about to do.
Thankfully, I've seen my father do this trick plenty of times.
Unfortunately, he usually does it to inflict pain on others.
"Here goes nothing," I mutter.
Using my free hand, I pinch the thumb of my cuffed hand between my fingers, and then, with as much power as I can muster, I swiftly twist my hand, pulling my thumb out of place, successfully dislocating the joint.
Searing pain shoots through my hand and up my arm, and a loud, piercing, painful scream unleashes from my throat as tears dance in my vision.
"Shit. Shit. Shit!"
Slipping the cuff off my hand, I cradle it against my chest, as tears drip down my cheeks, and pain continues to throb through my whole hand.
"Hijueputa."
Sinking my teeth into my lip, I use my arm to help shuffle off the bed, pushing my trembling body to move across the room to where my pyjama shorts are.
I hiss in pain as I let go of my injured hand to grab my shorts from the floor, awkwardly stepping into them and pulling them up my legs with my one good hand before rushing into the bathroom and practically falling onto the toilet, desperate to finally relieve myself.
Once I'm dressed again and my bladder is empty, I open my bedroom door, allowing Jellybean inside. I scan my eyes across the surfaces in the room, looking for my phone.
When I come up empty, I walk out to the landing and to the top of the stairs, glancing over the glass banister down into the living room to make sure I'm alone.
After a moment, I decide it's safe, and I hurry down the stairs, groaning at the pain jolting through my hand.
Spotting my phone on the coffee table, I grab it and scroll through my contacts.
My thumb hovers over Sophia's name for a moment before I shake my head and scroll up.
I would call Sophia, but I don't want to hassle her with my problems again.
She's pregnant, and Rory mentioned she's been having some issues while in her last trimester. Apparently, she's been having to go to the hospital multiple times a week for regular foetal ECG monitoring—whatever that is.
I'm positive because of that, Kaleb would refuse to bring her here anyway.
My thumb stops on Rory's name next. With her being a nurse, I decide to call her instead as I make my way into the kitchen and search through the freezer for an ice pack.
When I don't find one, I grab the next best thing—a bag of frozen peas.
As I sit on one of the stools surrounding the island, the phone connects, and Rory's cheery voice filters through the phone.
"Hey, Lissa. What's up?"
"Uh, I need you to come over to Dom's apartment as soon as you possibly can," I tell her, wrapping a tea towel around the pack of frozen peas and then pressing it against my hand, teeth clenched as I breathe through the pain.
"Okay, sure. I can be there in about ten minutes… Is everything okay?"
I let out a humourless laugh and shake my head, despite the fact she can't currently see me.
"Yeah, everything's fine. Just had to get out of handcuffs, so I dislocated my thumb, and now I'm in a whole heap of fucking pain."
The line goes silent for a moment. I hear rustling around, and then a door slam.
"We're on our way," she mutters. "And Jaylen wants an explanation as soon as we get there."
Roughly ten minutes later, the elevator whirs to life, the sound echoing through the apartment, and I wipe at the tears streaking my face and readjust the blanket I've thrown over myself.
Jellybean's ears perk up from where she's seated beside me, and her head tilts to the side as we listen to the doors of the elevator open and footsteps enter the apartment.
A moment later, Rory rushes in, her wild brown curls piled on the top of her head in a messy bun, and a harried look on her face as her warm, chestnut eyes connect with mine. Jaylen follows behind her, a frown marring his face.
Rory moves towards me while Jaylen stands in the doorway, his eyes assessing me as I sit here, cradling my injured hand against my chest.
"Are you okay?" he asks softly,
Rory takes a seat beside me, stroking Jellybean a couple of times before gently reaching for my hand, removing the icepack I've been holding on it.
Grimacing from the dull throbbing pain that starts up again at the feel of her touch, I nod my head and tear my eyes away from his.
"I'm fine," I say, watching as Rory twists my hand around, prodding her fingers against certain parts of my skin. "Just in a lot more pain than I thought I'd be."
"I'm not surprised," Rory says, capturing my attention. "They always make this shit look simple and painless in movies, but realistically, it hurts like a bitch."
Staring down at my crooked thumb, I huff out a laugh, silently agreeing with her.
"I can pop it back into place for you, immobilize it with a makeshift splint, and then give you some painkillers."
"Yes, please. I definitely need painkillers."
She looks up at me, concern splashed across her face, and then she glances over her shoulder at Jaylen.
He's still standing in the doorway, watching me with furrowed brows.
"How exactly did this happen?" he asks, moving further into the room, bracing his hands on the back of the sofa as his questioning, imploring gaze burns into mine.
I shrug. "I was handcuffed to the bed again. I wasn't sure if anyone was coming to check on me today, and I really needed to use the bathroom. So, I dislocated my thumb to get out of the cuffs."
"You're sure of that?"
Now it's my turn to frown at him, confused as to why he's questioning me, as if he doesn't believe me.
"Yeah, why would I—" I clamp my mouth shut as I finally connect the dots in my mind.
The conversation I had with Louise about his mother flows through my mind, along with the vague details Rory told me about her past the other day, and I offer him a sad smile as tears prick at my eyes again.
"Dom wasn't even home when this happened," I tell him. "He may be a dickhead, but I don't think he'd hurt me. Not physically anyway. He's—Ahh!" I yelp, rearing back as pain explodes through my hand. "What the fuck!"
"Sorry!" Rory shouts, hand clamped around my wrist. "You were distracted, and it's not like we can numb your hand, so I thought it was the best opportunity to pop it back into place."
Gritting my teeth, I glance down at my aching thumb, which is no longer crooked, and I nod.
"Thanks, but a bit of warning would've been nice."
"You would've braced for the pain, and sometimes that's worse," she mutters, rustling through items in her bag before pulling out some white square pads and a roll of tape. "I'm going to create a splint for you by wrapping gauze around your thumb and taping it up, so we can keep it in place."
She lays my hand in her lap and starts wrapping the gauze around it, then does the same with the tape, securing it tightly around my thumb and wrist.
"Make sure you keep it iced, and try to keep it elevated, too, it'll help with the swelling," she says as she finishes. She grabs a box of pills from her bag and places them on my lap. "Take two of these every four hours."
"Thank you for doing this."
"No problem." She pulls me into a hug, careful not to lean into my hand.
Jellybean growls beside me, and I laugh as Rory uncurls her arm from around me and peers down at my feisty best friend.
"What did I do?"
"You got too close to me," I explain, chuckling as Jellybean continues to growl at Rory until she stands up and takes a step away from the sofa. "She's a little territorial."
"No wonder things with Dom haven't progressed physically."
My cheeks heat, embarrassment sweeping through my body, and I glance away from her. I finger the chain of my necklace as I nervously glance around the room, trying not to lose myself to the feelings that consumed me half the night.
"Actually, she's quite fond of Dom," I muse, staring down at Jellybean and wondering why she must be so traitorous. "Anyway, thank you for helping, but you'd better go before he gets back. I don't think he'd be too pleased to hear about me getting out of the cuffs and asking you to come round."
I stand from the sofa, keeping the blanket wrapped around me, using it as some sort of shield to hide my vulnerability from them.
Rory's eyes sweep over my covered body before she nods and makes her way out of the living room.
I follow after her, intent on walking them to the elevator and seeing them off, but Jaylen pulls me up short as I'm about to exit the living room.
Running his free hand through his platinum blond hair, he rubs the back of his neck, staring down at me, seemingly warring with himself before he speaks.
"If you want to leave, you can come back to mine and Rory's apartment with us."
Although I would've jumped at this opportunity a couple of days ago, I don't today.
Shaking my head, I decline his offer.
"Thank you, but I should stay. I have Jellybean here, and no doubt Dom will be back soon. He'd probably be worried if I wasn't here."
I move past him before he can say anything else, and walk towards the elevator where Rory is waiting for Jaylen to catch up. Once they're in the elevator and the doors have closed, I breathe a sigh of relief.
Truth is, I couldn't care less if Dom got back and I wasn't here.
I just don't want to be around people at the moment.
My emotions are all over the place after last night. I'm still infuriated with Dom, and I'm upset with myself.
Mostly, I feel disgusted, especially because I can feel the dried cum on my back. I'm desperate for a shower, and I want to snuggle up in bed, feeling sorry for myself a little longer before I have to face anyone and pretend like I'm okay.
Making my way back to my room, I stand at the foot of the bed, glaring at the handcuffs still secured around my bedframe, and my stomach sours.
Grabbing my phone, I scroll through my contacts again and press on one I'd usually ignore.
Pressing the phone to my ear, I take a deep breath and ignore the way my stomach's twisting itself into knots as I wait for the call to connect.
When it does, I gulp.
"Well, well. Does this mean you've changed your mind?"
With my eyes trained on the handcuffs, the dried cum staining my sheets, and the memory of the tears I spilled because of Dom last night, I allow my eyes to fall shut and mumble three words I'll probably regret saying.
"I'll help you."