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“That is a two-hundred-thousand-dollar car. Do you honestly think she has the insurance to cover it? Furthermore, how do you know she didn’t set you up to sue you for something? A police report would have proven you were not at fault.” Mitch stands and walks around to the front of his desk, halting for a minute.
“Okay, I just thought because it didn’t seem that bad that—”
“You thought wrong!” His voice booms in the room, the echo making it louder. I jump at the sound, and my eyes go wide. “That car’s going to cost a fucking lot to fix, Nicole. I can guarantee her insurance won’t cover shit. Not to mention she can concoct a story about how you backed into her. She obviously knows I have money with you driving around in that car.”
Mitch comes charging forward at me, I walk backwards until my back slams into the door. My body trembles as he advances. My hands fly up defensively as I try to stop him from coming towards me.
“Please—” That’s all I get out before I feel the sting of a slap across my face. I can taste the copper in my mouth from the blood.
Mitch grabs my hair and tilts my face up. The grip he has on my hair sends shockwaves of sharp pains through my head. My lip trembles and I open my mouth to silently scream. My skin feels like it’s being ripped from my skull. He slams my head back against the wall. Stars form in front of my eyes as the burning pain throbs from the spot where it met the wall. I close my eyes for a moment to try to refocus my eyes that are now seeing double.
“What the fuck did you just do, Nicole? You opened me up to lawsuits. More importantly, you took out my car and fucked it up.” Mitch’s other hand slinks around my neck, and he squeezes. My eyes shoot open in fear. “Why are you always fucking up? Why can’t you just be a good little girl for me?”
“Y-You … got … f-for … me,” I gasp out between breaths. His grip tightens. It’s at that point I realize I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m fearful he’ll kill me right here, right now. I try clawing at his hand, but he holds it firmly around my neck. Without warning, he releases me. I have a mere second to catch my breath before I feel another sharp pain sear across my face.
“I didn’t tell you to take it out. That’s why we have a fucking driver.” He yanks my hair, making my head tip back. A scream builds in my throat, tears stinging my eyes.
“You don’t take the fucking cars out without my permission. I fucking own you. You do what I say, when I fucking say it. Or maybe I need to make myself clearer.” Mitch brings his hand under my jaw and wraps his hand around my face. The pain overwhelms me as he squeezes my face tightly. His nails digging into my flesh causing pain to radiate from his grip. I can feel the skin tearing from the force of his nail pushing into me. I try to shake my head out of his grip, but he is too strong.
He slams me against the wall. My head is pounding now, between the hair pulling and the impact against the wall. Again, he throws me against the wall, his lips curled into a cruel sneer. Tears stream down my cheeks, burning them from the earlier slaps. I must have a cut, and I’m scared to look.
“I’m so s-sorry. I didn’t m-mean to cause p-problems.” Everything in me shatters. This is not that man I once loved. His anger and rage … I don’t know who this Mitch is.
“Well, now I have to go get the attorneys on this and fix your fuck-up. We will continue this talk when I get back from the office.” He reaches into my purse and goes through my wallet to take my credit cards and my driver’s license. He also finds the woman’s information and shoves it into his pocket. “I don’t want you getting any ideas. So, these are mine now.” He walks the credit cards and my driver’s license over to the safe behind his desk and locks them in there.
My entire body hurts, and I’m shivering from the attack. He walks over to me, grabs me by my hair. I ‘m forced to look at Mitch as he jerks my head back. My breathing speeds up and a scream escapes my throat. He pulls me forward against him, and I can feel his nails digging into the back of my head. Bile rises in my throat.
“No more of your stupid ass shit. Stay like a good little bitch, and I will be back in a few hours when I get this handled. Then, you and I are going to continue this conversation.” He pushes me back again, causing me to trip and fall, hitting my head on the hard floor. Mitch looks down at me with an evil curl to his lip. He winks at me as he reaches for the door, opens it and walks out of the office.
I let out a groan and try to catch my breath. My head feels like my skull is going to explode from the inside. I try to take gulps of air, but I feel like there is a weight on my chest.
I can’t do this anymore.
I sit there shaking my head. No more. I can’t take anymore. This isn’t the Mitch I knew. I can’t take the abuse anymore. I can’t keep up the shell of who I am nor who I was.
The haunting look in his eyes, the soulless spheres that bore into me … He wanted to kill me.
I hear the front door shut, and I run to the master bathroom. I bend over the toilet to throw up. My body trembles as everything comes up. The fear I live with on a daily basis is too much. I need to end this.
Once there is nothing left in my stomach, I stand up and wash my face, then I stare at myself in the mirror. My red hair is in disarray, tangled and matted from Mitch grabbing and pulling on it. There are dark circles under my eyes. I bring my hand up to the cut on my face and wince in pain. My entire head’s throbbing.
I reach down and grab a washcloth from under the counter, then I turn the water on warm and do what I can to clean up the blood. The bruises are already showing. The cuts from his fist stand out on my pale skin. There’s more stinging as salty tears mix with blood.
I. Am. Fucking. Done.
My fists curl up as I stare at the beaten image in the mirror. Mitch is supposed to protect me, not hurt me. He’s supposed to be my savior, not my tormentor. Mitch is the fucking devil, and I didn’t sign up to live in Hell.
For over a year now, I’ve been plotting my escape. My parents won’t believe me, I have no friends to turn to anymore, and I don’t even have a career. But what I do have is the money he gave me to live off of.
I didn’t need much each week, but I took everything he gave me to stash away. What Mitch thought was “shopping money” was really going to my “get the fuck out of dodge” pile.
Today’s the day I get the fuck out of dodge.
I run into the bedroom and in the far corner of the closet, then I move some shoe boxes and uncover my hiding spot. Grabbing my duffle bag that’s already packed, I reach in and pull out my second wallet. In there, I find my new identity complete with a driver’s license and social security card that an old friend delivered to me not that long ago.
Cyrus Faulkner’s a friend from college; the only person who didn’t give up on me when I got locked away in my tower. He deals with hacking and computers, I think. I don’t really understand his world. But he knows people and was able to hook me up with a new identity. Enough to get me out of here.
Picking up an envelope stuffed with cash, I pull out enough to pay for a taxi. Everything I do for the next few hours is critical. I need to disappear as careful and as fast as I can.