“NO!”
He recoils at the level of my voice and I take the brief moment to find my feet on my own.
“You can’t be angry at me, Mackenzie. You deliberately provoked me.” I slowly and painfully turn back to face him and finally see what I have been missing since the night he changed. The man is crazy. He’s not going to change. Tonight proves it.
“Provoked you, Chad?” I shake my head of thoughts of our beginning and contemplate how we’re going to end.
“Don’t fucking act dumb. It doesn’t suit you, sweetheart.” Forcing a breath into my lungs, I take a minute and try to figure out how to play this.
“I’m dumb all right, Chad. Dumb to think you would change.” With false bravado, I move to our bedroom. Each small step burns my innards like boiling water.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Fingers wrap around my forearm, stopping me before I can run away.
“Take your hands off me.” The shriek in my voice echoes off the high walls of our house, but he doesn’t react, his hold staying firm.
“You’re not fucking going anywhere. You’re my wife.” The vein in his temple bulges as his grip grows stronger. His alcohol-laced breath hits my face and I force myself not to breathe in the offensive smell.
“You don’t beat your wife, Chad.” I tug harder, desperate to be out of his hold.
“Maybe if you weren’t acting like a whore all night, I wouldn’t fucking have to.”
I know arguing with him right now isn’t going to help me. He’s drunk, angry, and he’s already hit me, but I can’t help it. The fact he’s calling me a whore hurts more than the fist to the face.
“Whore? Tell me how I was a whore?”
“You don’t think I saw the looks you kept throwing the asshole. The smiles, the way you fucking let him kiss you goodbye.” He pulls me to his chest.
“You’re fucking crazy.” I fight his hold. The man has lost his damn mind. I was only playing the part he has drilled into me since becoming his wife.
“Yeah, crazy for you, baby.” His nose comes to my hairline and he breathes me in. I keep fighting, even though I know it’s pointless. He’s too strong.
“I’m leaving, Chad. We’re done. You promised, and I believed you. I trusted you wouldn’t put your hands on me again.”
“You’re not going anywhere, Mackenzie.” He spins us in one fast movement and pushes me against the wall. Air leaves my lungs in a rapid surge at the force of the impact. He steps in closer, one hand leaving my arm and moving lower, slipping past the hemline of my shift dress. Chad starts to glide it up the outside of my thigh. I fight the tears threatening to fall. It shouldn’t be like this. I know that. But the most terrifying thing is, I don’t think Chad knows it. To him, there are no boundaries or lines that shouldn’t be crossed.
“Don’t. Please don’t.” Repulsion aches through me at his touch and I fight it when his fingers slip into the side of my panties. I’ve never felt so hopeless in my life, standing against the wall inside of my home with my husband’s unwelcome touch.
“Don’t what? Touch my whore wife.” I kick out at his shin, fighting once more for a brief moment to break free, but I’m met with a backhand to the face. My cheek stings and I cry out, not in pain but in fear, not sure how far he is going to take this or how I am going to get out of this. I don’t know if I can. The thought alone has my knees buckling under me.
“The more you fight me, Mackenzie, the worse this is going to be for you.” He holds me up against the wall.
“Why are you doing this, Chad?” A sob escapes my lips as he forcibly drives two fingers inside of me. How could the man I love try to take this from me? The man who promised to love and cherish me.
“Because I love you, Mackenzie. No one will ever have what belongs to me. Do you understand me?”
I don’t answer because I have no idea how he could think this is love.
This isn’t love. This is the devil’s kingdom and I don’t belong here. The flames from the pits of hell are burning my flesh from the outside, working their way underneath my skin, waiting to turn the flicker of hope I have left in me to ash.
I have to find my way out of it.
Somehow I have to.
Six
Beau
“That’s it, darlin’, deep breaths,” I encourage. Her eyes remain closed as she slowly starts to come back to herself. She’s been like this for over five minutes now, and it’s as if my breathing labors like hers, gasping each time she does.
If only I could just get her to come back.
“Is she okay?” Hunter asks, coming to stand next to me as I wait for Mackenzie to recover from her panic attack.
“Yeah, go grab some water,” I order, still waiting patiently. I’m careful not to touch her. Knowing my closeness pushed her into a memory and caused her panic attack, fucks with me. The last thing she needs is for my hands to be on her, which could possibly push her right back into another one. It’s the last thing either of us need.
“Beau,” she tries to stand, but I don’t let her. All thoughts of not touching her flee and my hand comes down on her shoulder forcing her back into her seat.
“Keep breathing, darlin’.” Her eyes squeeze shut and she takes in another large, deep breath.
“Oh, God, how embarrassing,” she says when she finally catches her breath and calms herself.