I recoiled from the man, not shocked by his gal but petrified of his presence. I knew it. I knew he was in Beaufort, yet I hadn’t said a word to anyone. Not my dad, not Taylor, not Lucca. My silence would most likely be the most stupid thing I’d ever done in my whole life. To keep quiet, though all the signs had been there.

I eyed the gun he held casually on his thigh while he eyed me up and down. The barrel was pointed right where I stood, his finger on the trigger. It seemed like a stand-off where I held no advantage. It was all his. I had not a word to say to the man who had ruined me, who had taken my baby’s life, who had tried to take my life too. I’d spent much of the last eight years wishing he had.

Except now...now, my life was beginning to change. I’d woken up and dared to dream, dared to live without fear. And wasn’t that the cruel joke? It figured that he would come back around when I finally decided to crawl out from under my rock.

Isn’t life a bitch, Laura?

He got up from the chair so quick that he startled me, making me take a step toward the door. He was on me before I made another. His large hand wrapped around my neck tight as he licked up my cheek, like he had all those years ago. I cringed and begged my legs to keep holding me up, clutching for an ounce of control to keep my wits about me, for I knew exactly what this man was capable of. And it was my greatest nightmare.

“You smell good, Jessie.” I felt the tip of the gun poke at my hip. “Even with another man all over you.” He abruptly let go and pointed the gun in my face. “Take your coat off.”

Without hesitation, I stripped the coat off and threw it on the floor to the side. He circled me, a finger moving around the upper half of my body until he stopped at my back, winding a tight arm around my waist.

“I want the rest off, too, Jessie. I haven’t seen you in so long,” he rasped into my ear, his breath smelling of mints.

Ready to argue, I tried to pull away from him until I felt his hand at the waistband of my skirt, then heard the rip. A swathe of fabric hung down my hip as his fingers dragged the ruined material down my legs.

He used the threat of the gun again, poking it into my ribs, knowing I wouldn’t move as he groped between my legs. Thick fingers molested me, and I whimpered in revulsion when he kicked my feet apart.

“Good girl...” he said, plunging his fingers into me. Lucca’s cum slid down the insides of my thighs as he probed deeper with harsh jabs that were alien. I squeezed my eyes shut, tears escaping.

“Please...no...” My voice failed me, memories whipped around, panic seized.

He shoved me away, his fingers roughly leaving my body. The push was so hard, I fell to my hands and knees, grunting in pain. His foot came up and he kicked me in the ribs, toppling me to the side. Lightning fast he was on me, pinning me to the floor, thrusting his fingers so far into my mouth all I could do was cough and splutter. My gag reflex triggered, and I retched violently. I choked and choked as he watched, seemingly fascinated by my distress. Vivid memories came at me thick and fast while my breaths struggled.

With fistfuls of hair he anchored my head to the floor, spitting in my face. His disgusting cock, still smeared, bobbed in front of me. A weapon ready to debase me any way he saw fit. “Bite me and I fucking shoot you.” I didn’t bite. I opened my mouth, wincing from the split on my lip from where he’d backhanded me some minutes before. He reared up on his knees, angling himself, then shoved mercilessly into my mouth, suffocating me with each angry thrust.

A harsh slap across my face dislodged my recollection, reminding me I was back in the same position, except he was clothed this time, wasn’t fucking my mouth with his dick, only his fingers.

Snatching his hand from me, he allowed me the time to get myself together, control my breathing, stop sputtering. He didn’t get off my chest, stayed straddled across my upper body, pinning my arms to the floor. A dangerous place for me to be . I knew all too well how he liked to stuff his filthy thing in my mouth from that position, once had not been enough that day.

I tried to discreetly look for the gun, feigning a coughing fit so I could move my head. With the weapon nowhere in sight, my hope deflated as he shifted his weight on top. I lay stock still underneath, there was no point in struggling with a man that could easily overpower me in seconds.

His eyes flicked from my face to my neck and back again. He pulled the thick scarf from around me and grinned. “You forgetting me, Jessie?”

“It’s Laura,” I said.

“You’re forgetting me,” he said, reaching down to trace across the thick scar at my neck that had been his attempt to end my life. His bulk across my chest was suffocating and I coughed at the pressure.

“How could I forget you?” I choked out, disgustedly.

A tear slipped down the side of my face. I had loved this man once, irrevocably. Now, all I felt was hate and fear that had festered within me for years. Which emotion I held stronger, I had no idea. Both fought for supremacy.

“You didn’t take my money.” I detected a hint of regret in his voice, I refused to believe this man was capable after what he’d done to me. I shook my head vehemently. “I know that now.”

His finger still moved back and forth across my neck, following the line of the desensitised scar he’d wielded. It was the last he’d delivered, the intention clearly not to scar. He pushed further down on top of me, his face coming closer to mine. Licking his lips, he pressed them against my trembling mouth. A limp kiss that chilled me to the bone. He was too calm, far too calm.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

I didn’t know, nor care, what he was apologising for, it felt empty anyway. No amount of sorry’s could compensate for all he’d taken from me so cruelly. I said nothing in return. He kissed me again, harder this time, then climbed from me.

“Get up!”

I gingerly climbed to my feet and stood on unsteady legs, trying to cover the exposed parts of me with the bottom of my woollen jumper. I felt bare and vulnerable but not so lost that I couldn’t hold myself together for now. I refused to think about what was to come.

My phone rang from my bag in the hall and I glanced that way, hope rising momentarily. There was no point running for it, I wouldn’t make it. Maybe, just maybe, whoever was calling would be worried when I didn’t pick up. I thought it might be Lucca, it would be, after all - he’d promised. Then my heart sank as quickly as hope had filled it. Lucca couldn’t be involved, I didn’t want him running to my rescue. One person’s blood spilled tonight would be more than enough. I’d no doubt it would be mine.

“Is that him?”

He’d sat down again, in the same place I’d found him when I’d first entered, gun still pointed at me. This time his other hand was rubbing over the crotch of his jeans. I felt disgust at his apparent arousal of the situation.

“No,” I lied.

He gripped at the bulge between his legs. “You’re still fucking hot, Jessie.” Again, his eyes moved up and down my body. “Take those clothes off, before I do it for you.”

I wasn’t for him touching me in any capacity, I also didn’t want a bullet through my brain. There was no choice, I wanted to keep that optimism of surviving a little longer, which meant stripping out of my shredded skirt without complaint. Hastily peeling off my jumper and tank, and throwing them where my coat was, was no hardship either.

A scant moment of misguided worry crossed my brain, what if the neighbours saw me standing naked in my living room? They wouldn’t see the menacing threat sitting on the chair, would perhaps call the police citing their neighbour’s indecency. It dawned on me my curtains had been drawn and I felt so fucking stupid I hadn’t noticed before I’d come into the house. They’d been open this morning when I’d left. Excitement from the day with Lucca had made me too complacent.

“Now, you’re gonna go wash that fucker off you. I want him gone.”

He jumped up and grabbed for me, dragging me through the house and up the stairs. I didn’t put up a fight, figuring I had to pick my battles and this wasn’t one of them. Kicking my bedroom door open, he marched to my en-suite and flicked on the light. Motioning to the shower, he pushed me forward. “Now!”

Climbing into the tub, I flicked on the spray, squirming at the initial freezing water. I turned my back on him, still feeling his eyes roaming over my naked body, and washed the comforting scent of Lucca from me. I made a production of cleaning between my legs thoroughly, not wanting him to do it for me, and that was a distinct possibility. He wasn’t hurting me for now, I’d bend to any whims he threw my way. When that changed so would my game play. For now, I was okay. Nobody had died from humiliation as far as I knew.

Whirling around when I finished, I glared at him and snapped. “Happy now?”

Saying nothing, he took two steps closer, eyeing the scars he’d left me with. I cringed when his eyes moved lower and fixated on the one across my stomach. He reached out and I slapped his hand away. I wasn’t taking the insult, no fucking way.

“It’s true?” he asked, not looking me in the eye.

Having no need to ask what he was referring to, and although I felt raw, I stiffened my spine and spat my words at him. “Yes, yes it’s true. You killed our baby.”

I held my breath as he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, not daring to move. The gun was still dangling from his hand, I couldn’t tell where his head was at. I told myself I’d survived his aftermath before, I could do it again if I only kept myself alive. He’d left me for dead once, he wasn’t getting the opportunity again.

“What do you want? Why are you doing this? I ran, I disappeared. There were no repercussions, you don’t have to do this.”

I could hear my own pleading, I wasn’t beyond begging at this point. I wanted to understand, needed to understand what was fuelling him, why he felt the need to come back and do this to me all over again.

His eyes snapped open and he looked startled, like he’d forgotten where he was, and I’d nudged the reminder. He slanted his head to the side, burning a hole through me as he examined my body. The smile that kicked up on his face unsettled me further, a rush of cold sweeping over me. I raised my arms to cover my upper body.

“Revenge...” He stepped away, grabbing a towel and throwing it at me. “Revenge, Jessie.” He moved to the door of the en-suite, pulling out cable ties from the pocket of his jeans. “Bed time.”

Oh, fuck, no.

There was no way this was going down that way. He picked up my hesitation straight away. I’d fight and holler until I was exhausted, there was no way he was tying my hands with cable ties.

“I’m not here to hurt you, but I will if you don’t do as I say. You get me?” He dangled the plastic in front of me.

I lowered my head and stepped from the tub, following him into the bedroom. Again, the curtains were drawn.

“Get in.” He pulled the duvet back and pushed me onto the bed. “On your back.”

I tried to scramble away from him, not getting far before his fingers wrapped around my ankle and he yanked me back, his heavy body pinning me to the bed from behind. He started grinding his hips against me as he held me captive beneath him.

“Don’t make me, Jessie,” he warned, sweeping my damp hair from the side of my face. “I’m not here for this, but I will take it if you give me any trouble. A good, hard fucking shut you up the last time, remember?”

His intentions were confusing me, a headache was beginning to pound at my temples with all his back and forth proclamations. “Then why are you here?” I asked for a second time. “Let me go.”

A sweep of rough fingers along the curve of my breast and down the side of my body shut me up quick. He shifted so he could manoeuvre his hand between our bodies, dipping a finger into the crease of my bottom, snaking down to the most sacred part of me.

“Stop...please, stop.”

He did, but pushed his weight further into me. “You gonna do as you’re told?” I nodded weakly, barely moving my head. “I need the words, Jessie,” he whispered into my ear like a lover incanting romantic intentions.

“Yes.”

“Good girl.” He shifted then yanked at my hair so violently my eyes watered. “Now get in the fucking bed!”

Something snapped in me, whether it was the good girl comment or the hair pulling, I wasn’t sure. The anger I should have felt when I’d first seen him in my living room, roared up and broke loose. I railed against the body at my back. I bit and punched and kicked and screamed until a thump to my cheek knocked me for six and sent me sprawling to the floor seeing stars. Copper filled my mouth, rage filled my body, one more welcome than the other.

“Don’t fucking move.” He towered over me and struck out again. The punch took the wind from my sails and I slumped in a heap, my chest heaving with exertion and pain.

Five minutes later, I was tied to my own goddamned bed, a bed I was going to burn the minute I was out of here. He’d stripped the duvet and comforter and stretched my arms above my head, positioned in the middle of the mattress, exposed. I was freezing, despite the warmth in the house. He sat on a chair at the bottom of the bed, stroking himself through his jeans with more fervour than before. The man was unhinged behind that cool mask of indifference he was trying so much to get me to believe.

“You always did get me hard as nails, Jessie. No effort whatsoever. Do you even realise the effect you have on men?”

I’d lived in my own bubble of grief for years, I’d barely given men a second glance until recently, no thanks to him. Marc was more of a comfort than an attraction, not like Lucca. I knew the effect I had on Lucca, for whatever reason, he was different. I was your average woman with a body full of scars and a head full of hurt, why would I take notice of men and the effect I had on them? What did it matter?

“My girlfriend doesn’t like you all that much, you know?”

The weird statement was sinister in its meaning. She didn’t like me, it didn’t take a genius to figure out he wasn’t here for me, not at all, he was here for someone else. “Does she love you?”

If I talked to him, he might be less inclined to hurt me. I had to laugh to myself, he’d already hurt me more than any other person ever had. We’d been engaged, I’d known this man inside out at one time, he’d loved me, yet still had no qualms destroying me the first time. Second time around would be no different.

“It’s complicated,” he paused, scratching at his chin. “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her.”

I heard the almost unintentional threat in his voice and wisely took note. There was a silence for a long while, both of us lost in our own ministrations. I didn’t want to remember anything, wanted to blank it all out but wave after wave of memories came at me, good and bad. I shifted on the bed, crossing my legs tighter together, shivering.

Searing pain sliced through my stomach as he leered over me. His tongue dipped from the side of his bloodied mouth as he dug the blade of the knife into my skin. My body had taken a beating, laying in a crumpled heap on a cold bathroom floor, my head lolled to the side. I had no more fight left in me. My screams were silent, raging a battle in my head as he tore at my flesh and surely extinguished the heartbeat that grew inside...

“You cold?”

“Yes.”

Reaching down to pick up the comforter, he threw it at me, laughing. The velvety cover landed across my body in a haphazard fashion, shielding my exposed parts, giving me a meagre warmth as my bones rattled within. It was more than mere temperature chilling my frame.

“You should sleep.”

Sleep sounded like a luxury I couldn’t afford. I was exhausted from the long day and my nerves were strung tight from the evening. With reserves rapidly depleting, adrenaline and fear raced through me, keeping still an almost impossible task. I reluctantly closed my eyes and tried to shut off while he sat silently at the bottom of the bed; keeping vigil. Eventually drifting off, I wondered if that was exactly what he was waiting for, if falling asleep would be the last time I closed my eyes. The propensity to care diminished along with my strung-out consciousness, my last thought, Lucca.