by K. Webster
Thankfully, he released my neck but grabbed my hair instead and yanked me back through the destroyed bathroom door toward our bedroom. Tears were streaming down my face as he dragged me down the hallway and shoved me to the floor once we were inside our room.
Free of his grasp, I scrambled to my feet and searched wildly for something to defend myself with. Markwayne had never taken it this far, and I wanted nothing more than to get away from his violent behavior. Eyeing the lamp and its metal base on the bedside table, I lunged for it. Before I could reach it, he rammed me into it, causing both me and the lamp to crash to the floor. Shards of glass from the light bulb sliced my palms as I tried to stand up.
A hard kick to my ribs sent me sailing into the wall and an instant fiery burn tore through my side. I gasped, attempting to suck in air between the sharp pains. He pounced on me again, jerking me up to my feet by my hair and spinning me to face him.
“You will fuckin’ learn, woman, that I’m tired of your sassin’!” The last thing I remembered before being knocked completely out was his massive fist connecting with my face.
