Lola
I wake up feeling groggy, my head pounding and my body sore all over. I feel like I’ve been thrown around and run over a few times.
Trying to sit up is useless; I just fall back down onto a mattress, my hands going to my aching head. Wetness coats my hand and I bring it to my face, a gasp escaping me as I take in the blood. Touching my head again in a panic, I wince at the pain and then it all comes back to me. I was hit when I was outside the back of my store.
“Dean?” I croak, needing him.
“Hey, you’re awake,” Rick says, and my entire body freezes, my head slowly rising to find him sitting in a wooden chair at the end of the bed.
“Oh God, no!” I say out loud, tears falling from my eyes as I stare at the man who has haunted my nightmares for years and years. The air leaves my lungs, and I struggle to breathe. In a panic, I fall from the bed, landing with a thud on the floor.
“Oh no, you don’t,” Rick growls and I cry out when he touches me. His arms go beneath my armpits, lifting me and throwing me back against the bed, my head banging on the wooden headboard. I wince, hissing with pain and my hand goes to the back of my head, feeling more blood. I start to struggle when he looms above me, pinning my wrists to the bed.
“Get off me!” I shout, and he grins down at me with a twisted expression.
“My, my, haven’t we grown a backbone. But it’s no use, Lola. You’re mine, and you’ll submit to me,” he sneers.
“No. No! Get off me. Help!”
“Don’t fight me, Lola. You’re loose, baby,” he snarls, lifting his fist into the air and landing a hard blow to my right cheek. My vision blurs as I’m knocked back onto the mattress. Sobs rack through my body painfully as he climbs off me.
I lift my head, feeling weak, and watch as he passes around the bed, glancing at me every few seconds.
“Did you think you could hide from me forever?”
“Yes,” I hiss, not knowing where this insolence is coming from but glad it’s there.
“Stupid, stupid Lola. I’ve warned you so many times. So fucking many. I made you who you are.”
“You beat me and raped me!” I yell, managing to pull myself up enough, so I’m sitting against the headboard. Keeping a close eye on him, I do a quick scan of the room, finding the place is a shit hole. The Rick I know was a clean freak; everything has to be pristine and perfect for him. But seeing empty food containers and empty cans of beer around the room surprises me. I’ve never known him to be this disorganised or even eat takeout food. The nearest he ever got to a takeout was when we ordered from a five-star restaurant.
Rough hands grab my chin, and he forces me to look at him. “I said fucking listen to me, you fucking bitch,” he says, and I notice for the first time how ragged and unkempt he is. He has a week’s worth of stubble on his jaw, his eyes are bloodshot, and he looks his age for the first time since I’ve met him.
“Fuck you,” I say before spitting in his face. I’ve never done anything so revolting in my life, but if anyone deserves to be spat on, it’s him. Hell, I wouldn’t pee on him if he were on fire. For what he’s put me through, he deserves a far lot more.
“Sweet, Lola,” he taunts, wiping the spit from his face. His voice is eerily calm, and out of everything, that is what has me shaking like a leaf. For the first time since I woke up, I’m actually scared for my life.
He laughs at my expression, clearly seeing he’s gotten to me. My anger spikes again, and I narrow my eyes, giving him a defiant look.
“Oh, I’m going to have fun with you.”
“Fuck you!” I yell, smacking his hands away, but he just squeezes my cheeks harder. I wince in pain, my eyes fluttering closed for a second before they open again, staring into those lifeless, cold orbs of his.
“Oh, you’ll have your chance to fuck me, Lola. All in good time. All in good time. But first, we have to get that fucker off my back.”
My eyes widen when realisation dawns on me. “Dean,” I whisper.
Rick’s face twists into an ugly snarl, the veins in his neck bulging.
“Don’t fucking say his name,” he growls, and I grin snidely.
“He’s going to come for me,” I taunt him, wanting him to get riled up, so I have a chance to escape. I cast a quick glance at the door once again; if he moves to the other side of the bed, I’ll have a chance of getting to it.
“No, he’s not.”
“He will because he loves me and I love him,” I spit, getting in his face, but it only makes him angrier.
“Then I’ll enjoy killing him in front of you. I’ll cut him piece by piece and make you watch,” he mocks.
I can feel the blood draining from my face, and a hoarse cry escapes me. “Leave him alone,” I yell, and he laughs, shaking his head. He shoves my head back, gripping my jaw so hard I’ll definitely have bruises.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask, grateful for him moving off the bed. Maybe if I can distract him long enough, I can make my move.
“Why?” He laughs. “I’m doing this because you’re mine. You belong to me. This ends when I say it ends. You don’t get to walk away from me. No one walks away from me,” he roars, punching his chest.
“So this is all about your ego?” I scoff.
“Nobody takes what’s mine.”
“I’m not yours!” I scream, tears falling from my eyes. The anger that has been simmering below the surface for years begins to build. I’ve never hated anyone the way I hate Rick.
“Yes, you are!” he roars back, smashing the dressing table mirror, shattering it. “You let him put his hands on you. You let him touch what’s mine,” he rants, shaking his head as he paces the floor. “When will you learn? When will you get it through that thick skull of yours that you belong to me?”
“I’m not yours,” I yell on a hoarse cry. He’s lost the plot, and I don’t think he’s thinking straight, if he ever did. I’ve never, not once in all the years I’ve been with him, seen him like this. It’s unnerving, and I tremble with fear, praying I don’t show it. “You beat me. You raped me. You even cheated on me,” I with a forced chuckle. “But what you could never do was destroy me, Rick. You can’t destroy what’s not yours. I gave my heart to Dean long before you and I’ll love him long after you’re forgotten. Let me go. Just let me go,” I plead, my strong facade wavering.
He scoffs, looking at me like I’m the ridiculous one. “You loved every second of it, Lola.”
I watch as he paces the length of the room again. Just when I’m about to make a move, he turns, watching me. His expression has changed, his eyes softening somewhat and coming across friendlier as he gives me a warm, apologetic smile. But I know Rick. It’s not real, and whatever he’s playing at, I’m not going to fall for it. And the fact his mood just went from psycho to Mr Tumble in two-point-four seconds proves he’s lost his marbles.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. So fucking sorry. I know I can be demanding and a little controlling at times, but I only mean well. It doesn’t have to be like this. We’re good together. If you could meet me halfway, listen when I speak and respect my needs, we could work. I can change. You can change,” he says softly, and my eyes widen in horror.
He’s twisted.
“How did you know where I was?”
“Your grandpa basically told me, but it was Sally who got the information for me.” He grins but then frowns, muttering under his breath. “Why would you make me come here and flaunt him in my face?”
I look at him in confusion. “Who? Dean?”
“Yes,” he growls, anger surfacing but he pushes it down, a smile lighting up his once handsome face. Now it’s just ugly. His soul and heart are ugly, and no looks could ever make it any different.
“You’ve been watching us?” I gasp, my hands shaking.
“Of course I have. I had to watch as he put his hands on you, his mouth.” He shakes his head, his hands balling into fists. “It’s okay. I understand.”
“Understand what?”
“Why you were there. He was forcing you. It’s what you think you like, but you only like it with me,” he says, and my eyes widen, a cold shiver running up my spine.
He’s delusional.
When he moves closer to the bed and sits on the edge, I flinch, scooting away. It works in my favour too, because now I’m closer the door.
“I just want to hold you,” he says calmly. It’s like he’s in a parallel universe, one where everything is perfect, and he hasn’t just kidnapped me and knocked me out.
My mind screams to play him, and I look up at him sharply.
“You’ve got blood all over you.” My voice is as soft as I can force it to be, earning me that ‘got you’ gleam in his eyes.
“Let me go wash up. Then can we talk? We can work out how to make you better. We’ll need to move away because your grandpa will try breaking us up. He doesn’t think you’re good enough for me.”
I want to scoff, but instead, I force a smile and nod.
He rises from the bed, looking like he wants to touch me but thinks better of it. I gulp, adrenaline pumping through me as I pray my plan works.
The minute he reaches the bathroom, his back to me, I get up and run for the door. I cry out in frustration when I find it locked, and by the time I get the latch undone, he’s on me. He rips me back by my hair, a scream tearing from my throat before he hits me, smacking my face against the door.
My breathing comes out in one gush of air, and I fall limply against him as everything around me spins.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” he snarls in my ear.
“Let me go,” I choke out pathetically.
“Over my dead body. I knew I couldn’t trust you. Fucking knew it. You want it to be this way, then you’ve got your wish. Because if I can’t have you, no one will.”
His words come out harsh and dread seeps into my bones, knowing I’ve pushed him too far.
“No,” I whisper, ready to plead, but a sharp stinging sensation jabs into my leg, and everything goes black, darkness filling me once again.