Chapter 4 #2
“Please. . .” please get this fucking charade over with. I plastered on a false smile, one to match that of my soon-to-be husband’s.
For the first time since stepping out of the hotel, I looked at Hell’s face. I read over his features like I was searching the pages of a book, one that looked interesting, but was etched in a language that wasn’t understandable to me.
“Okay, then. Woodrow, if you would like to give your vows.”
Conveniently enough, Hell had no objection to that name while we were in the chapel.
He was happy for this to go ahead, no matter the cost.
His smile grew, big and bold. His steel eyes squinted in its presence.
“I vow to love you. I vow to dishonor you. I vow to encourage your obedience. . . because that’s so much more fun than all that traditional bull.
Don’t you think, doll?” A laugh brew inside him, but he held it back, concealed by a smirk, prisoning his pain.
He squeezed my bones, shuffling them uncomfortably into the correct position.
I knew what he wanted. And I wanted the pain to stop. So, I laughed. Loud and false. Tears stung my eyes. The smile still painted on my glossed lips, made my tears appear like those of happiness. More lies.
The officiant and witnesses, they believed each one. Laughter echoed around the room, a cheering of our celebration.
“Until death parts us. . .” I smiled. This one, was, unfortunately, not a lie.
“Nope. You’ll still be mine, even in death, doll.
Remember what I said.” Hell slid the ring onto my ring finger, caging the digit in white gold.
“I will haunt you until your heart stops beating. Possess you more than I do now. And then, you’ll be mine again.
There’s no escaping now.” He flicked his attention from me, his eyes moving to the officiant.
My eyes followed. For the first time, I noticed how the man marrying us was dressed. A tacky costume of white and gold, and gelled black hair, had him looking like a singer who grew in success during the swinging sixties.
“You may kiss your bride.” He smiled, enjoying the humor we brought to his otherwise routine job.
I was yanked from my steady position, colliding with the harshness of Hell’s chest. My hand landed in the center, between his pectoral muscles, and I winced, letting my teeth sink into my glossed lip to keep the noise low.
I felt a vibration against my palm as his racing heart kissed my fingertips, and even that hurt me.
Hell’s fingers tipped my jaw upwards and his mouth devoured mine, his tongue forcing his way between my lips, seducing my body into feeling things it didn’t want to.
I pulled back, only when he allowed it.
I stared for eternity at my new husband. The sheen in my eyes and the look on my face masqueraded as love as I watched his every move. I kept my deep-rooted fear hidden inside the shell of me where my soul was hiding.
And I plastered on another false smile as Hell pulled me into the crook of his shoulder and took the first step to lead me out.
I stopped somewhere in the center of the manic and prolonged street.
I hadn’t taken in any of the sights until now.
My feet ached; I’d walked miles in a pair of uncomfortable heels.
I wasn’t used to heels; I wasn’t even used to footwear.
. . but I was used to discomfort, and it allowed my expressionless face to appear unaffected and my suffering to be ignored.
I stopped at the sight of fountains, allowing myself to admire their beauty, as the water danced high into the air, rhythmic and enchanting, like a slow and sensual rumba.
Blinking, I took a mental picture. For you, Dad.
I stored the image deep in my psyche, with a million other beautiful memories, locked away from the surface, safe from ruin.
I was lost to the crowd gathered around me.
People of all ages were taking in the water show.
My arm stretched through the flurry of onlookers, pulling the rest of my body along with it; Hell had no interest in sightseeing, and he was done here.
His hand was tightly wrapped around mine, causing my body to bump into one person after another as he tugged me along.
I lost my balance, my ankle twisting in my uncomfortable shoes.
Hell’s grip came loose, and I fell into an older gentleman who steadied me with his touch.
He was gentle but I still shivered as his hands landed on my arms, preventing us both from hitting the concrete.
I smiled with forced appreciation, and I didn’t fail to notice that Hell didn’t hold my emotion as he reclaimed my hand and yanked me away with a huff.
The late hour affected the sky, but the lights of the busy street shunned away the darkness, not giving it a prioritized welcome.
Casinos were wild and rowdy, including the one of which we’d just stepped inside.
Screams of excitement filled the air, echoing joyous tones above the music every time a man or woman from across the globe struck lucky.
We sat at a table, Hell and I. Slot machines rang out around us as our numbers came in on the spinning black and red wheel as its speed ceased.
I didn’t even notice; my eyes were locked on a cocktail in the distance.
A fishbowl filled with pink. It looked tasty.
A man’s lips wrapped around a colorful straw, and as he sucked the concoction into his mouth, I found myself licking my lips.
Hell’s face was passive and uncaring, just like his personality. But his touch was still brutal. His steel hand wrapped around mine, closing tighter and tighter until I pulled my gaze from the stranger. I winced with the pain, and my eyes flew back to him, on the wings of the caged bird I’d become.
I glanced at the roulette table, noticing his good fortune. “You’ve won.” I smiled, praying for him to release his grip on my hand and on my soul.
“We’ve won, my bride,” he corrected me. “Shall we go celebrate back at our room?”
He didn’t wait for my answer. He cashed out with a profit of close to eighteen thousand dollars. Eighteen, the age I was when we first met. Symbolism was toasting to us. . .
A salute to him. . .
A mocking to me.
He guided me from the hotel, past the pretty fountains for the second time. The water no longer danced; it lay still, peaceful in its wet bed.
My stomach churned. Thoughts rushed in my head as we rushed through the fresh-scented lobby of our hotel. He hurried me. We were both eager to get me out of this outfit, for different reasons.
The elevator doors opened instantly. He pushed the button to our floor. He let go of my hand, turning to face a mirror on the wall. He fixed the straying strands of his dark hair, as I rubbed away the pain.
I pulled off my glove and gifted it to the carpet. The discoloration of my bruises stood out against my skin. I thought over a painful past, and in that very moment, I knew I wanted a different future.
Bing.
The elevator sounded as we reached our stop.
“After you.” Hell motioned for me to step out, figuring I wouldn’t disobey.
I thought he’d have known me better.
I didn’t turn to see his anger as I took off down the hallway, praying to find a staircase.
Lifting my too-long dress as I ran, I struggled in my heels. My heel caught on something I didn’t even see and like the most useless character in every horror movie, I stumbled to the floor. The predator neared. . . my horror movie was just about to start.
He rolled me over, his hands groping fiercely at my body as he positioned me to sit on my sore bottom. He crouched between my open legs and spoke, his voice heavy with his accent and exasperation.
“Jolie, Jolie, Jolie, Jolie. I’m trying so hard to give you a little freedom. But you keep proving to me that you don’t fucking deserve it. Don’t make me kill you before I have to. We still have some time to be together.”
No one was around to see him pull me from the ground and toss me over his shoulder like I was a bag of rubbish, ready for the trash.
No one saw him drop me into the princess position and carry me over the threshold to our room, placing a kiss in my hair as he held me close.
No one saw him drop me to the ground, causing pain to my internal injuries before he kicked me like a soccer ball, hard into my ribs, causing more.
I rolled into my corner. Into a space free from penalties. . . or so I thought.
I closed my eyes, drifting away. . . far a-fucking-way as he bellowed across the room, smashing and breaking everything in sight.
I trembled in the darkness of the room for what felt like hours.
I sat, alone and scared, facing the painted walls.
His words echoing on repeat in my head. .
. we still have some time to be together.
He was already anticipating my death, something he’d never done before.
. . was that a cursed fate or a blessing disguised?
A touch graced my skin, and it didn’t cause me pain. . . it brought peace. My fantasy was here to save me, to transport me to a made-up land, where pain didn’t exist between us.
My subconscious tried to encourage my dream man to shift to my side. But he didn’t move. . . I did, as I was pulled from my dream into a nightmare.
I was thrown onto the bed, recently changed of its wet sheets. Bedside lamps were lit to reveal the creature moving around the room. His luminous skin glowed in their light, persuading me he wasn’t all darkness.
I didn’t believe the lies.
His shirt was off, his pants slipping down, revealing his defined Adonis belt. He looked like a god, a warlord who fed on pain. . . mine.
“It’s our wedding night. We should be enjoying this time together.”
I resisted the urge to voice how much I hated him. But the look on my half-hidden face screamed of everything I was holding back.
I was frozen on the bed when he loomed above me. His fingers were wrapped around the knife from his earlier threat. . . his promise.