Page 36 of Love is Angry

He doesn’t need to tell me the details of what will happen to me if I don’t let this happen.

I can see it in his eyes.

Evil.

A monstrous evil that is somehow being allowed to do this.

I’m crying, and he’s smiling as he rolls my dress up and pushes me closer to the bed. The bed that he shares with Roxanne.

I have to get away. And I try. I do. But the more I struggle, the louder he clicks his teeth, warning me.

“I’ve wanted to see what you’re like from the moment I saw you in your daddy’s shop.” His words make me freeze. There it is. The real threat. His victory over me.

“You’ve brought this on yourself, Maddie,” he whispers and forces me to bend over, pushing me against the foot of the bed. My upper body is pressed into the covers, and I smell the orchid fragrance of whatever conditioner was used to launder this stuff. It’s not enough to kill the sickness that threatens to turn me inside out. “Walking around like this,” he adds, then tears my panties away. The sound of the fabric is almost like a scream, and I cry harder.

I hear his belt buckle dropping onto the carpet.

No, no, NO! I don’t want this!

But it’s happening whether I want it or not.

“With your short dresses and loose hair,” Julian says, then thrusts himself inside me. I cry out, and he covers my mouth with his hand. “Like a fucking whore.” He starts pushing, and I can almost feel myself stretching and breaking into little bits and pieces. The more I resist, the more it hurts.

The sharp pain makes my insides burn. My hymen.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Julian grunts and moves deeper, having broken my only defense. I can feel the warm blood trickling down my thigh as he takes me, as he claims me and destroys me. He’s loving this. He knows what he’s doing.

This isn’t the euphoria of drugs nor the delirium of booze. No, Julian Echeveria knows exactly what he’s doing, and I can’t do a fucking thing to stop him. I don’t know how long it will last, but maybe…maybe I’m better off if I just let it happen.

If I just shut down and think of something else.

Wait for him to finish.

I lose track of time, blocking his animalistic snarls. The pain dulls, gradually, as I abandon the physical realm. He slaps my ass hard, and I whimper, but it only stings for a half of a second. He thrusts harder and harder, and I hope he doesn’t have much longer.

And then, out of nowhere, I hear creaking. And a door starts to open. I don’t know why I’ve been looking at it. Maybe I’m imagining my escape. But none of that is happening. No, Julian’s got me in his claws. One hand goes under my belly, his fingers finding my raw folds. He wants to rub my clitoris and incite an orgasm. Will having one get this over with faster?

The door opens just a creak more.

“You know you like it,” Julian whispers in my ear, then nibbles on the lobe.

And a little more. It’s not Roxanne’s face that comes into view, though. It’s not one of the maid’s either. It’s Rhue’s.

He’s watching us. Horror mars his face into something unfathomable and his eyes flash with the kind of disappointment that cuts deep.

The rhythmic push intensifies. Julian is pounding like a raging beast, and all I can do is stare at Rhue, hoping that this is just a bad dream.

Maybe I’ll wake up soon.

I close my eyes, wishing for the nightmare to go away. But when I open them again, I find myself still here. I can feel Julian’s wretched seed spilling as he finally hits his grand finale, and I swallow back another round of tears as I struggle to numb myself further.

By the time it’s over, I can barely feel my legs, and Julian only has one thing to tell me while he tosses my panties in the bathroom trashcan and rolls my wool dress back down.

“You say a word about this, Maddie, and I will destroy you and your father.”

“It’s Madison,” I say, though I don’t know where this last ounce of strength comes from. I only know that I’m going to use it to walk out of this place and let the nightmare end. I need this to end.

Walking out on my own two feet, I wonder if any of it really happened.