by J. L. Perry
I have a ridiculous smile on my face as he hangs it on one of the branches. ‘Ryan and Morgan Mitchell’ has a nice ring to it. One day—in my wildest dreams—we’ll become Mr and Mrs Mitchell, accompanied by a horde of kids, of course. We’ll live a blissfully happy life.
I let out a small sigh of contentment as I picture it all in my head. Dreams are free, I guess.
“I’m quietly confident in saying, this is best tree on the lot. Mum’s going to love it.”
“I’m glad,” I say.
“You have a good eye. You spotted it from what, ten, maybe fifteen, metres away.”
There he goes building me up again.
“It was the only tree with the sun shining on it. It was like the heavens were lighting her up for me.”
He turns to face me again and cups my face in his hands. We just stand there staring at each other like fools. It feels like the entire world has stopped spinning, and although we’re surrounded by other people, it’s just us—nobody else exists.
A beautiful smile appears on his face, “Do you know how happy you make me, Miss Abraham?”
“As happy as you make me, Mr Mitchell,” I whisper.
He kisses me right there, a deep, toe-curling kiss, in front of everybody, but I don’t care in the slightest.
He smiles down at me when he finally draws back. “Come on, let’s get this tree sorted so I can take my girl out to lunch.”
Two months later
“Thank you for last night,” I say, leaning across the centre console and brushing my lips against his.
“I should be the one thanking you,” Ryan replies.
Although a few months have passed since our first official date—the night we almost had sex—things haven’t progressed much since then. Sure, we’ve fooled around, but Ryan is adamant about taking it slow. I know he cares about me and just wants me to be happy—he’s proven that over and over again—but there is a part of me that wonders if he’s scared to take that leap again. I know my actions that night freaked him out.
“I’m glad you finally let me please you.” The fact that he hadn’t let me until last night has been playing on my mind. I know what men are like. Although he’s promised to, is he really willing to wait around forever?
“And please me you did.” A huge smile graces his face as he leans back into his seat. “Just thinking about your lips around my ….” He sighs as his words drift off. I laugh when he grabs my hand and places it on his crotch. I can feel him hardening under my touch. “That mouth,” he says, leaning forward and nipping at my bottom lip. Hearing those words makes me so happy. I want to please him so much. He makes everything about me, which I love, but there’s two people in this relationship.
We kiss and hold hands when we’re together, and he’s brought me to orgasm a number of times, with both his talented hands and tongue. But last night was the first time he let me return the favour. He’s all about pleasing me, but returning that pleasure is something I want just as much. He’s been so patient and kind with me. He is the first person ever to put my wants and needs before their own.
“If your mother wasn’t inside, I’d so do it again, right here and right now,” I say with a mischievous grin.
My words have his eyes widening.
“Don’t tell me that, babe,” he says, gently cradling my face in his hands and bringing my mouth to meet his. “I’m going to be walking around with a hard-on all day.”
“That could become a safety hazard. Especially in your line of duty,” I reply with a giggle.
“Exactly! Some poor unsuspecting person could lose an eye.” His words make me laugh so hard my stomach hurts. “It’s so good to hear you laugh like that.” He reaches out, squeezing my leg.
I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. I can’t even remember the last time I laughed so hard I cried. It’s in that moment that I realise how far I’ve come. I’m so happy, and I have him to thank for it. “It’s because of you,” I say. I’m so in love with this man. Everything in me wants to say just that, but I don’t. Hopefully one day soon I can tell him just how much he means to me.
Leaning forward, I brush my lips against his once more. I need to get ready, and he’s heading to the Raymond Terrace Courthouse with Macca today on official police business. I’m going to miss not seeing him at lunchtime. I always look forward to his visits.
“Good luck today.”
“Thank you,” he replies. “If I get back early enough, I’ll come and visit you at work.”
“I’d like that.” I give him one last kiss before reaching for the door handle. “I’ve got to go.”
“Bye.” I glance over my shoulder, and although he’s smiling, I see a kind of sadness in his eyes. Why is it so hard for us to part?
I walk backwards up the path, so I can still see him. The smile on my face widens when he blows me a kiss before driving away.
A contented sigh falls from my lips as I step into the house. So, this is what it feels like to be completely and utterly in love with somebody. It’s such a powerful and joyous feeling.
“I’m home,” I call out, walking into the foyer. “Claire?”
When she doesn’t reply, I head towards the kitchen. She’s probably making me breakfast. She never says anything when I spend the night at Ryan’s, she just smiles on my return. I think seeing us together makes her happy. I wish I could spend every night with him. There are no nightmares when I’m sleeping safely in his arms. I miss him deeply on the nights we’re apart.
“Claire,” I call out once more.
The moment I enter the kitchen I freeze, and my heart drops to the pit of my stomach. Claire is bound to a dining room chair with duct tape. Her eyes widen the moment she see me. She tries to say something but the tape over her mouth makes it unclear.
I snap back into reality when she starts to thrash around in an attempt to free herself.
“Claire!” Dropping my overnight bag onto the floor, I run to her. My initial thought is she’s been robbed. She’s still wearing her nightgown, and she always dresses before coming downstairs. Tears pour down her cheeks as she cries out again, but her words are still muffled. “It’s all right, I’ve got you,” I say.
Her head starts thrashing to the side as if she’s trying to warn me about something. An eerie feeling settles over me and I stop tearing at the duct tape. I spin around, and all the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and my legs threaten to give way from underneath me the moment my eyes meet his.
“I told you I was coming for you, bitch!”
“So that message was from you?”
“Technically, it was sent by an old cellmate, but yes, I made it happen.” He goes silent for a moment, but the look he gives me makes my blood run cold. “Did you think I was going to forget what you’d done? Fucking months,” he screams. “You cost me months of my fucking life!”
My fight or flight instinct kicks in the moment he lunges for me. There’s no way I’m going to attempt to fight him—I’m petrified of this man!—so instead I turn and run. Part of me feels like a coward for doing so, but the logical side of me knows what will happen if I stay.
I don’t make it far before he reaches out and grabs hold of my hair. I’m ground to a halt when he tugs on it hard. I scream out from the pain as my body involuntarily falls back into his. My back is against his front. He pulls down on my hair, tilting my head to the side. “Where the fuck have you been?” he sneers. “Out whoring around again?”
“No,” I whimper when he tugs on my hair once more. I want to tell him that I’ve found someone else, someone who treats me like a princess, somebody I love with my entire heart, but my first thought is to protect Ryan. I once saw Wade punch someone in the face at a restaurant because he said the man was staring at me.
He grabs hold of my shoulder, roughly turning me to face him. “Don’t lie to me, cunt!”
All the fear, dread, and hopelessness I felt when I lived with this monster comes flooding back to the surface. I thi
nk about the times when things got so bad, I had wished he’d kill me, just to put me out of my misery. A lot has changed since those dark days. I no longer want to die; I have too much to live for. In my case, the grass is definitely greener on the other side.
“I’m not lying,” I cry. I’ve never been a good liar, and I can tell by the anger in his eyes that he doesn’t believe me. “I ….” That’s all I manage to get out before his hand smashes into the side of my face. He hits me with such force, it knocks me straight off my feet.
My vision goes blurry for an instant as I hit the ground with a loud thud. I can hear Claire calling out again through her gag, but it’s no use. I’m at Wade’s mercy, and there’s nothing either of us can do about it.
There’s a sharp shooting pain in my neck and the side of my face is throbbing as I go to stand, but I only manage to get on my hands and knees before he kicks me as hard as he can in the ribs, closely followed by another blow to the stomach. I groan in pain as all the air leaves my body. If this keeps up, I’ll be lucky to leave here alive.
He grabs me by the hair once more and drags me to my feet. I want to cry again from the pain, but I don’t want to give him the satisfaction. I’ve learnt over time that he gets off on my suffering.
He reaches behind himself and produces a gun. I feel like I’m going to pass out when he points it straight at my face. “I should just kill you now, you useless piece of shit. You’re a waste of fucking air.”
Claire’s muffled cries fill my ears. I hate that she’s been brought into this. I hear the legs of her chair banging against the wooden floor as she tries in vain to free herself.
Wade’s arm darts to the side, as he redirects the gun in her direction. “Shut the fuck up!” he screams.
“Leave her,” I beg. “Please. She’s done nothing to you.”
He starts to laugh as he moves the gun back to me. “And what the hell are you going to do?”
“Anything!” I answer. “I’ll do anything you want if you just leave her alone.”
He fists the hair at the nape of my neck, roughly dragging my face towards his. Bile rises in my throat when he kisses me with an open mouth. The thought of any part of him on me makes me sick to my stomach. It was only a few minutes ago that Ryan’s beautiful lips were on mine. Now they’re tainted.
Tugging my face back, he looks down at me. “I’ve missed your pussy. I have a good mind to fuck you right here for making me wait so long.”
I clench my eyes shut as dread fills me.
“Look at me!” he screams.
I feel the first of my tears cascade down my cheeks when I finally open my eyes.
“Get on your knees.”
“Please, Wade,” I beg.
“Do it!” he says, pushing the gun against my forehead. I flinch when he screams, “Now!”
My eyes flicker to Claire, as I do as he demands. When she bows her head, it’s clear she knows as well as I do what’s about to happen.
Please don’t rape me in front of her, I silently pray.
Hesitantly, I do as he asks. Helplessness washes over me when he reaches for the fly of his jeans. “Maybe I’ll make you suck my cock first before I fuck you.”
My vision is blurred by the tears filling my eyes as he pulls out his soft, disgusting penis and runs it across my lips. A sob escapes me when I feel it harden against my skin. My mind is racing a million miles an hour as I try to think of a plan. My immediate thought is to protect Claire and Ryan. I’ll worry about myself once I know they’re out of harm’s way. I need to get him away from here.
I inhale a deep breath through my nose, trying to calm myself. I need to get my shit together if I’m going to pull this off.
“We should get out of here,” I say.
Confusion crosses his face. “What?”
“I’ve missed you,” I lie, looking up at him. His eyes narrow, and I see wrinkles form on his forehead as he tries to make sense of what I’ve just confessed. “I’ve missed this.” Just saying those words to him turns my stomach.
I hope Ryan will be able to forgive me for what I’m about to do—I’m only doing it for him and for Claire. I close my eyes and think of my love and what he finally let me do to him last night as I lightly glide my tongue across the head of Wade’s penis. Pretending it’s Ryan standing in front of me is the only way I can get through this.
“Fuck, yes,” he groans, placing his hand on the back of my head. “I’ve missed that mouth of yours.”
Drawing back from him, we make eye contact. “Let’s get out of here,” I say. “Let’s go somewhere where we can be alone.”
Using the best acting skills I can muster, I look up at him through my eyelashes. When we were together, playing the seductress was one of the only ways I ever seemed to make him happy. It got me out of trouble a number of times during those horrible times.
My face screws up from the pain as he grabs the top of my arm and yanks me to my feet. I’m repulsed when he kisses me roughly.
A mixture of relief and dread washes over me when he draws back before shoving me towards the doorway. If I can lure Wade out of here, at least Claire will be out of danger. It’s the least I can do for her after everything she’s done for me.
My heart shatters into a thousand pieces when I look over my shoulder at her. The sadness and devastation I see on her face tears me up inside. I give her a look that I hope conveys how sorry I am for what has happened today. “I love you,” I mouth, just before Wade shoves me into the hallway. It breaks my heart to know this may be the last time I ever see her. Or Ryan.
Wade continues pushing me down the long narrow passage until we reach the front foyer. Stopping, he pulls me into a head lock before shoving the gun into my back. “One wrong move when we get outside, and I’ll fucking kill you.”
“I won’t, I promise,” I say, cowering. I hate how weak this man makes me feel.
He releases me, sliding his arm around my waist and holding my back tightly against his front. I can feel the hard metal of his gun pressed into my lower back.
We walk at a brisk pace down the front path towards the street. My eyes are everywhere, and my heart is thumping against my ribcage. There’s a huge part of me that’s glad Ryan is so far away. Even though I know in my heart he’d try to save me, I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to him.
Wade turns left when we reach the footpath, heading up the street away from town. I can see a small red car parked on top of the hill. As we get closer, I see it has Queensland number plates.
He opens the driver’s side door, shoving me in. “Climb across the seat,” he snaps. I do as he demands. For some reason some advice we were given during a seminar when I was in high school springs to mind: if someone tries to kidnap you, fight to escape. If they get you into their car, the chances of survival decrease dramatically. But I already feel like my days are numbered because I know exactly what he’s capable of.
When we’re both seated in the car, he closes the door before locking us in. He fists my shirt in his hand, pulling me to him. “I should fucking kill you right now for what you did to me, bitch.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. I don’t know what else to say. He deserved everything he got and more for what he did, but voicing that out loud isn’t going to help my plight.
“I don’t know why,” he says, bringing his face closer, “but I’ve missed you.” His confession means nothing to me. I certainly haven’t missed him. “You hurt me.” I jump when he bangs his hand down on the steering wheel. “You fucking hurt me, bitch!”
“You hurt me too,” I whisper. He’s hurt me more times than I care to remember.
“I never would’ve hurt you, but you made me.” The logical part of me wants to laugh at that statement. What a load of shit! I never did anything to justify his behaviour towards me.
Bile rises in my throat when he puts his lips on me again. I clench my lips tightly shut, but I don’t have the courage to push him away. His hand glides down my arm, across my
waist, and settles between my legs. He grabs hold of my crotch, roughly squeezing it. His touch is nothing like Ryan’s loving and gentle caresses. It’s brutal and cruel. I can’t do this with him, I just can’t. I jerk my body away from his touch.
He draws back, and the moment I see the expression on his face I know what’s coming. “Don’t push me away,” he snaps, clipping me in the side of the head with an open palm. My ear starts to ring from the force of his blow. I shield my head when he raises his hand again, but instead of hitting me, he turns to face the steering wheel. “Bitch!”
I see him fumble with the wires underneath the steering wheel, confirming my suspicions—the car is stolen. No matter how many times he tries, it won’t kick over. I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing.
“Fuck!” he screams as he bangs his hand down on the steering wheel, making me flinch.
I cower when he reaches for me because I’m expecting another blow to the head, but instead he opens his door and drags me across the seats. Stumbling as I exit the car, I graze my knees on the rough asphalt below. The sudden pain makes me groan but I don’t have time to wallow in my pain as he wrenches me onto my feet. He looks around frantically for another escape.
A minute or so later, a white car backs out of the driveway a few doors up. Instead of trying to look inconspicuous, Wade drags me in that direction. We are a few feet away from the car when the driver stops and winds down his window. It’s an old man. I’ve seen him around occasionally. He walks his dog some mornings. His eyes move between Wade and me. I want to call out, ‘keep going,’ but the fear inside me won’t allow that.
“Are you okay, miss?” he asks, observing the way I’m being manhandled. Bless him. His gaze moves down to my knees, where blood trickles out of my wounds. I want to say, ‘no, please help me,’ but this old guy is no match for Wade. He’ll only get hurt if he steps in.
