by K. M. Scott
Oliver stared at me in horror, but I wasn’t finished. Not by a longshot.
I held out my left wrist and pointed at the faint scar where the blade had cut into my skin. “I slit my wrist because I didn’t want to be handed over to another man! I wanted to die, but I couldn’t. Someone saved me, and what did I get for it? I got to be married to you, a man who only married me because it was a good business deal for you and your brother. And now you think you should ask me why I’m not trying to make our marriage a success?”
He shook his head in disgust, my admission only serving to make him more confident in his belief that everything was my fault. “I knew there was something wrong with you. Is that what you’re doing with all this sickness lately? Are you trying to kill yourself to get away from me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself, Oliver. I don’t have to get away from you. You’re never around anyway.”
“Then what is with all the throwing up? Do you have something else wrong with you other than being a head case?” he snapped.
I looked into his eyes as he stood there so sure I was defective and that he had good reason to deny me the basic respect even strangers received from him and decided I didn’t want to pretend anymore. Lifting up my sweater, I showed him my slightly swollen belly and answered, “There’s nothing wrong with me. Pregnant women often have morning sickness.”
His eyes narrowed to angry slits. “That can’t be mine, so whose is it, you whore? The two times we’ve had sex couldn’t have resulted in that, so who’s the guy you’ve been with, Serena? Tell me!”
“Never!” I screamed as I ran away to the bedroom, locking the door behind me.
Oliver followed me, banging his fists against the door when he found it locked. Terrified what he might do if he got in, I rushed to get the phone I used for Ryder and called him, but he didn’t answer. I quickly typed out a text to tell him I needed him right now and sent it off.
“Open this door, Serena! I want to know who you’ve been whoring around with! Tell me or I swear to God I’m going to bust down this door!”
Cowering in the corner as I clutched the phone in my hand, I desperately waited for Ryder to call or text back, but he never did. With each minute that passed, I grew more and more terrified as Oliver continued to threaten me through the door for nearly a half hour.
Finally, I heard the front door slam and waited with bated breath to hear Ryder’s voice as he argued with Oliver to see me, but all I heard was silence. I waited for a few minutes, but there was no sound at all.
Convinced Oliver had left, probably to go find my father, I walked out to the kitchen. Parched from fear, I poured myself another glass of water and prayed to God this night would end with me still alive.
From behind me, Oliver said in a low voice, “You really aren’t too hard to fool, are you, Serena? Now tell me who the father of that bastard is or I swear I won’t be responsible for what I do next.”
My hands shook from fear and rage. The child I carried wasn’t a bastard but one created from love, something he had not a single clue about.
Slowly, I placed the glass on the counter and turned around to see him standing there with pure rage in his eyes and for a moment I wasn’t sure I could say what I wanted to. But if I was going to die right there tonight, I wasn’t going to die a coward.
I’d been one nearly all my life, terrorized by my father and his demands on who he expected me to be. I wouldn’t give Oliver that power too.
“You can do whatever you want to me, but I won’t tell you who the father is. I will say this, though. He’s a real man. He’s loved me as completely as one person can love another, and I love him. I always have. So do your worst, but I won’t put him in harm’s way.”
Oliver’s eyes flashed such anger I stepped back in fear that at any moment he’d hit me. “A real man? You mean like the type that knows how sad and pathetic you are with your poor little rich girl act and your attempted suicide for attention act? That type of real man?”
Inside me something snapped, and I reached around and grabbed the glass to throw it. It sailed from my hand toward his head but instead of hitting him, it smashed off the wall behind him, sending a thousand shards of splintered glass through the air. He lunged at me, encircling his hands around my neck. Shaking me like an old ragdoll, he screamed, “I’ll kill you before I let you have this baby, you whore!”
“Let me go!” I barely croaked out as I frantically tried to peel his hands away from the hold they had on my neck.
With his face so close I could feel his hot breath on my cheek, he yelled, “Tell me! Who’s the father of this fucking kid?”
I wouldn’t tell him, even if it meant I had to die to protect my secret. Ryder had protected me, loved me, and I wouldn’t repay those gifts with a betrayal merely because I stood there terrified Oliver would eventually kill me if I refused to give him his name.
Shaking me even harder, he stared at me with those wild eyes so filled with hate as his face grew redder and redder by the second. I wasn’t sure which of us would die first. Me from his choking me or him from a stroke he was so furious.
And then suddenly, he dropped his hands from my neck. I fell to the floor gasping for air and in agony each time I swallowed from the pain of being nearly strangled. He stood over me saying nothing for a few moments, and then walked away, leaving me in an exhausted heap on the kitchen tile.
I had no idea why he let me go, but he’d given me a chance to get away and there was no way I wasn’t going to take it. Pulling myself to my feet, I stumbled to the bedroom and grabbed my purse. I didn’t know where I’d go. Maybe to see my father. Maybe to my old bedroom in the main house.
Maybe to Ryder’s apartment. Maybe it was time to stop lying about us and let my father and the whole world know we loved each other and were having a child.
It didn’t matter where I went as long as I wasn’t in that apartment with Oliver for another second of my life.
He was nowhere to be found when I walked out of the bedroom, and I breathed a sigh of relief that the worst of it had passed. He’d bellowed and barked in my face, threatened and choked me, but I was free now and I wouldn’t be staying around for any more.
I just hoped my father would now finally see by the hand marks on my neck that Oliver and the deal for his company wasn’t worth it. If not, I knew he’d use the threat of hurting my mother against me, and I didn’t know if I could live with myself if my stand for independence led to him hurting her.
All I knew was never again would I live another day in fear.
Looking around at the rooms Oliver and I had shared, I saw nothing familiar, nothing welcoming. This had been an apartment I’d been sent to after being forced to marry a man I didn’t love. This was never home.
I walked toward the front door tired but happy that I’d finally stood up for myself. Never again would I let a man use his hands to hurt me. Never again would I be yelled at and treated like a possession.
Pressing my palm to my belly, I knew I couldn’t let that happen again. This child needed me to be strong, and even if I’d never been strong a day in my life before today, I’d be strong from this point on.
From behind me, I felt something brush against my shoulder, and I turned around to see Oliver standing there, his hands ready to choke me again. I ran toward the back door, but he caught up with me just as I reached the stairs, and then all I felt were those hands pushing hard against my back and I fell.
When I opened my eyes, I saw him standing over me looking down like he couldn’t believe he’d actually done it. I didn’t know if any of my bones were broken or even if what was happening was real. I only knew he stood there glaring down at me for a long time without saying a word. It was almost like he didn’t know I could see him standing there.
And then he lifted his foot and kicked me. The toe of his dress shoe jabbed into my belly, sending pain so sharp through my body that it took my breath away. Then he kicked me again, and the pain overwhelmed me.
I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore. I closed them as everything went dark.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ryder
The drink in my glass gone, I sat up and grabbed the neck of the whisky bottle and considered whether it would just be easier to skip the middleman. Who needed ice anyway?
Tipping it up to my mouth, I downed a big gulp of whisky and felt it warm my insides as it traveled down to my stomach. It must have hit my bloodstream almost instantaneously because it didn’t take long for it to affect me and I sat back in the chair as thoughts of Serena flooded my mind.
Even stone drunk, I couldn’t get her out of my head. Not that I wanted to forget her. How did you forget the only part of your existence that made you happy?
No, I didn’t want to completely forget her. After what she told me hours earlier, all I could think about was how she was carrying my child.
My child. Even the sound of those words echoing in my head sounded strange. I’d never truly thought about being a father. Maybe if my parents hadn’t died and I hadn’t been sent to live with my uncle I might have. Maybe if I wasn’t still a kid myself when he sent me to fight and I didn’t have to grow up right then and there I might have someday thought having a child would a nice thing.
But none of that happened. I’d been made an orphan and thrown into fighting to earn my keep before I could even get a driver’s license, and even though I had to grow up overnight or suffer at the hands of the real adults around me, I never truly felt like an adult until I came to this place.
My drunken brain full of thoughts about Serena travelled back to one night a couple months after Serena was shipped off to Italy. I sat in that very room missing her and drinking just like I had for the past few hours because it hurt so fucking much to be away from her. I had no way to contact her and even though I checked every day, she never sent even a postcard to say hi all those months.
And for the first time in my life, I felt like an adult. I didn’t know why because I’d lost people in my life before, but that night missing her made me feel older than I’d ever felt before. Even getting beaten to a pulp and barely being able to move in the hospital hadn’t made me feel as bad as missing her did.
And that missing her made me feel like I’d spent years without what she gave me. I wasn’t sure I’d known how alive she made me feel until she was ripped from my life.
I swigged another gulp of whisky and thought about how much I missed her even though she wasn’t even a hundred yards away. How strange that someone could miss another person with them so close.
Not that it ever mattered how much distance anyone put between us. Her bastard husband could order her to never see me again, and her father could say I was only allowed to be around her in his presence and still we found a way to one another.
And in a few months, she’d give birth to my baby, a child that would live in her house with her husband acting like their father and I’d have nothing to say about it. Just the thought made my chest hurt.
There had to be some way to get her away from this place. Some way we could escape and live together where no one dictated the terms of our lives to us. Somewhere it didn’t matter who she was or who I was, and all that mattered was we loved each other and the child we created from that love.
I’d leave this place and never look back as long as I had her with me, but never without her. She needed me to protect her, and I needed her for so much more.
I placed the bottle down on the table, drunk enough that I didn’t want any more. As I drifted off with thoughts of that perfect day when she and I would run away and never look back, my phone vibrated against the whisky bottle. I’d had enough that even if it was Robert calling I didn’t care, but then the reality of what would happen if I didn’t answer him flashed through my mind.
Nothing like the threat of a tyrant’s temper to make you do something you didn’t want to do.
Grabbing the phone from the table, I tried to figure out who was texting me, but everything looked blurry. I shook my head to gather some semblance of sobriety and focused hard on the letters floating across the screen.
Jesse had texted me about some girl he wanted me to meet at his favorite bar a few hours ago. Delete. I didn’t care to meet whoever she was.
Then he’d sent a second text telling me how much fun I was missing out on. Delete again.
Kitty had sent her almost daily text begging to know why I didn’t come around anymore. Delete.
I kept scrolling and saw a call from Serena and then a message a little while later. My eyes grew wide as I tried hard to read each word. Oliver came home furious and they were fighting. She was afraid he’d do something to her.
Adrenaline coursed through my body, yanking me into sobriety in seconds. My heart slammed into my ribs as thoughts of him laying a hand on her tore through my mind, and I stood up and threw on a shirt to race over there.
With each step, I thought about what would happen if I burst into her apartment and she didn’t need me to save her from Oliver hurting her. He’d know for certain she’d been with me, and Robert would know too.
But I couldn’t worry about that. She’d never sent me a text saying she needed me to help her, and I had to make sure she was okay.
I looked outside for Oliver’s car and saw he was gone. Relief washed over me as I stared down at that empty spot. Maybe he’d just left and hadn’t done anything stupid. Hurrying to her apartment, I pounded on the front door but got no answer. It had been left unlocked, so I walked inside and began looking for her.
“Serena! Where are you? Are you hurt? Can you hear me?” I called out but heard nothing.
Checking each room, I found them empty but in the kitchen I saw broken glass scattered all over the floor. I didn’t see any blood, but the fear that Serena had done something horrible to herself settled into my brain and took my breath away for a moment.
“Serena! Answer me! Where are you?” I yelled and again heard nothing back.
Panic tore through me with each time my pleas were met with silence. I finished searching every room and turned toward the stairs leading to the basement door for some clue that might tell me where she went to. Looking to see if the door had been left open, I saw a figure lying at the bottom of the stairs.
Racing down the steps, I took them by threes and in seconds, I stood above her staring down in horror. She lay in a pool of blood and her neck had marks where someone’s hands had choked her. My heart in my throat, I crouched down beside her to check if she was still breathing, and when I placed my hand in front of her mouth, I felt a light touch of air hit my skin.
“Serena, wake up, baby. I’m here. You’re not alone. I’m going to stay with you,” I said, rejoicing that she was still alive.
I dialed 911 and in seconds had the ambulance on the way. I knew I should call Robert too, but he could wait. For now, she needed me more.
Stroking her cheek, I sat down on the floor next to her and whispered to her the words I hoped she could somehow hear. “The ambulance will be here in a few minutes and we’ll get you to the hospital. You’re going to be okay. I promise. You’re not leaving me. I got to you in time before and this time is no different.”
Her face looked so pale, like all the blood had drained away. Suddenly, I looked down at where the pool of blood came from and knew what Oliver had done. He’d found out about the baby and pushed her down the stairs to get rid of it and her.
Taking Serena in my arms, I held her to my chest and prayed to God they both would survive. Her body stayed limp against me, and with each second that ticked by, I feared the worst.
Like the last time when I’d found her nearly dead in that bathtub, everything seemed to move in slow motion after the ambulance arrived. They took her from me as the cops asked me question after question about what happened, assuming I’d done that horrible thing to her.
I answered each one with what I knew and left my suspicions out of it, knowing that’s what I had to do. Without any proof, I c
ouldn’t accuse Oliver of trying to hurt Serena, even if that’s exactly what I wanted to do every time they pressed me for who could have done this to her.
Finally, they left and I called Robert to tell him once again Serena had been taken to the hospital and I was on my way there. Unlike the first time, he didn’t sound worried or surprised this time. He just said he’d meet me there and ended the call.
As I ran to the garage, a terrible thought settled into my mind. Had Robert been so calm when he found out she was found unconscious and bloody because he had sent one of his men to do this to her?
Was I wrong about Oliver being the one who hurt her? Was this the doing of her father instead?
Robert grabbed me by the shoulders to stop me as I walked through the ER doors, and I couldn’t help but be struck by the anger I saw in his eyes. Had something happened? Was she dead?
“What is it, Robert? What happened?” I asked, desperate to hear anything but that Serena hadn’t made it.
“She’s in surgery now. They tell me she lost a lot of blood when she fell down the stairs. How could that happen, Ryder? How could she fall down stairs like that and get injured so badly?”
I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs that she didn’t fall. She was pushed and by the man he’d forced her to marry. A son of a bitch who beat up on women. A fucking coward I would make pay for this if it was the last thing I did.
I wanted to ask about the baby. Had she lost it? Remembering all that blood on the floor beneath her made my heart clench.
Our baby. The child I was sure Oliver had found out about and intentionally tried to get rid of.
But I said nothing about any of that, instead trying to keep my emotions from unraveling in front of Robert who wouldn’t understand why I cared so much.
“I don’t know how that could happen. When I found her, she was at the bottom of the stairs unconscious. I tried to get her to talk to me, but she never woke up.”
