Page 57 of Save You
Chapter 21
Beth
Chad’s smug smirk sits on his lips for the whole twenty minutes I end up waiting before Felicity finally saunters downstairs and into the living room. When she walks through the double doors, he positively beams over the drama that’s unfolding before his eyes. His sister looks as equally happy and very much proud of herself. Weird, considering she was just caught with her arse being fucked by someone who has openly shown disdain for her on the two occasions I have had the misfortune to meet her. She leans in to kiss her creepy-looking brother on the cheek before theatrically tutting at me with delicious glee on her face.
“Somebody’s in trouble!” she sings songs before winking at Chad.
I’m so enraged, I almost miss Oliver thundering in with a murderous expression written all over his dark features. He ignores the other people in the room, including poor Pru, who is now quivering in the corner with a ghostly complexion, and marches straight over to where I’m sitting with my arms firmly crossed. He hauls me up by my wrist with a tight grip and a promise of something more painful to come. I can’t help sneering over the hypocrisy of this man who is so obviously planning how to punish me after I’ve just caught him humping another woman in our bed. I sometimes forget that these people don’t think the same as regular, moral folk.
“Oh,” I emit with feigned sympathy, completely ignoring him and, instead, pulling a theatrical pout her way, “did the skanky ho not get off just now? Must have been very frustrating for you!”
Chad throws back his head and laughs hysterically as I’m aggressively pulled away by Oliver, who now refuses to talk or even look at me. I know I’m in for something bad, something over-the-top bad, and that I’ve just figuratively rubbed salt into the weeping wound. However, after what I just saw, I can honestly say I don’t give a shit.
I’m marched up to our bedroom like an errant schoolgirl who has just openly shown zero respect toward her parents, pouting the whole way but also secretly bricking it inside. I know what Mayfield is capable of, and especially know what Oliver is capable of. Whatever he’s about to do to me is probably going to leave wounds that will never heal.
As soon as we’re inside the room, where the sheets are still a mess of ruffles, bodily fluids, and the smell of sex, he swings me around and pushes me toward the bed. I remain in a huddled position where I land, keeping my back to him as I listen to the deafening sound of the doors clicking as he locks them shut.
“Turn around, Beth!” he orders with a gruff, low voice that is by far more terrifying than if he were shouting at me.
Slowly, I turn to see him rolling his sleeves carefully up to his elbows, the whole time his body jerks. His movements are erratic, as though he has too much adrenaline coursing through his raised veins to be anything but. By the time he stares back over at me, his face looks like a storm ready to explode, and I find myself stepping away from his wrath. He steps forward with determination and begins fumbling with his belt, undoing it, and finally pulling it away from his trousers altogether. My eyes have doubled in size by this point and are turning painfully dry. It makes it harder to blink and block out the image before me. I don’t exactly know what he’s going to do; if he’s going to rape me, strangle me, or tie me up and torture me. Whatever it is, the memory of it will no doubt scar me for life.
“Take your pants and panties off, Beth,” he orders with what looks like anguish while he desperately tries to keep in control of the moment happening between us. Fight or flight has me rapidly shaking my head and trying to make a run for the door, which, rationally, I know I can’t make. However, right now, I’m terrified.
As predicted, he reaches out, catching me by my hair, and effortlessly throws me against the end of the bed. His breath is hot and his voice almost alien when he places his lips to my ear and growls through clenched teeth, “Do it now, or I’ll do it for you!”
With trembling fingers, and a horrible sense of déjà vu, I try to unfasten my button and zip, but I can’t do it. I’m too scared, and my fingers are too sweaty to grasp hold properly, which only makes him huff with frustration. Before I realize what’s happening, he hauls me up by my hair and pulls them down himself, without even bothering to unfasten the button, thus leaving angry red marks all over my hips and thighs. My knickers are then ripped away and cast aside while he pushes me down onto the mattress, where I begin to cry uncontrollably. After that, he leaves me waiting for what I thought would never happen to me.
“P-p-p-please, d-d-don’t, Oliver! P-p-p-please…” I cry out, barely able to breathe through my sobs.
“You need to learn to never, ever, disrespect me again, Beth!” he yells through his still clenched teeth.
And then it happens.
It’s not what I was expecting, but it’s painful and humiliating. The wicked, burning sensation that strikes across my backside when the leather makes contact with my naked flesh, causes me to take an audible intake of air. I thought when he had struck me with a metal ruler, it was beyond painful, but this is worse. So much worse!
“Don’t ever speak like that in front of me ever again!” he shouts before lashing his belt down upon my naked cheeks. It hurts so much I fist the sheets and bite down on a piece of fabric which I have to scream into. “Mayfield wives do not question their husbands, and they do not look down on them! Do you understand me?”
I don’t answer because I physically can’t make my voice work, so he strikes me again, purposefully making contact with the wounds that he’s already inflicted.
“Fucking answer me, Beth!”
“What’s the matter, little one?” Nanny asks me as I lie in a damp patch of sheet where I have been sweating in my sleep.
Tears are streaming down my face while I try to calm down from the terrifying dream I just had. She waits patiently for me to answer her, but I don’t have the breath to talk. She seems to understand, so gifts me with a soft, soothing smile.
“M-m-monsters!” I gasp on an intake of breath. “Ch-ch-chasing me, Nanny!”
“Oh, Beth,” she whispers and raises her hand to wipe away the tears that are still falling, “you’re safe, my darling. It was just a dream, a bad dream! No one can hurt you here!”
She pulls me to her chest, which smells of lavender and chocolate brownies, the ones which she had baked with me earlier today. Grandad appears over her shoulder, looking concerned after my meltdown.
“What’s up, Beth?” he asks softly, reminding me of my big cuddly teddy bear, which fills up an entire armchair at home.
“Tom, she had a dream about monsters chasing her, didn’t you, Beth?” Nanny answers for me as she cuddles me even tighter.
“Oh, Beth,” he smiles warmly, “there’s no such thing as monsters, is there, Rosie?”
Nanny releases her grip a little, so I look up at her, waiting for her to reassure me with the confirmation that monsters are not real, just like Grandad said. But she doesn’t. Instead, she stares at me with what looks like a tear beginning to form in the corner of her eye. It unsettles me, even more so than the dream.