Chapter Nineteen
Sofia
Out of the corner of her eyes, she watched Tigger as he walked warily into the bedroom, carrying a large bouquet of flowers in one hand and a small plastic bag in another. Closing her eyes, she feigned sleep, trying to ignore the sharp pains ripping through her body each time she inhaled. Blood leaked beneath her skin, making red and purple bruises on her pale flesh. There would be no doctors, no evidence, no mention of his cruelty, only a bouquet of flowers and perhaps a CD of her favorite group.
“Sweetcakes, are you sleeping?”
The touch of his hand on her shoulder made her cringe internally, though his cooing voice made her relax because it meant the cruel monster had been replaced by the groveling lover. The warm, smoky scent of hickory wisped under her nose. He’s pulling out all the stops this time. He was cooking one of her favorite meals, baby back ribs, though the irony was that she’d never be able to eat through the pain that cut short each breath she took.
“I’m making ribs. I know how you love them. I picked up some coleslaw and have potatoes boiling.” His lips pressed against her temple and she trembled. “Talk to me.”
Cracking her eyes open, the light from the hallway pierced them. “The light. It hurts my eyes,” she croaked, and he leapt up from the bed and closed the door, blocking it out. At that moment, he’d do anything for her. He’d treat her like he used to in the beginning. If the pain wasn’t so acute, and her cheeks weren’t swelling up, she could almost pretend that nothing had happened. Tigger always could. He was extremely adept at ignoring how his criticisms, punches, and kicks made her feel. For now, he’d make sure she knew she was his everything, but as she knew so well, it would only last until the next time he lost his temper.
“Let’s go in the living room. I picked out one of those girlie movies you love. We can eat in front of the television.”
Trying to sit up, her mind screamed out as pain seared through her chest and she fell back down, sweating and pulling her legs closer to her body. “I can’t,” she panted.
“Hang on, sweetcakes.” Tigger ambled into their bathroom, and she heard the familiar squeak of the medicine cabinet opening. Soon he returned with a glass of water and two white tablets. “Take these. They’ll make you feel better.”
“What are they?” she asked as he put two pills in her palm.
“Pain pills. Let me help you.” As he raised her up, she gritted her teeth, then popped the tablets into her mouth and swallowed them. “You’ll feel so much better. You just gotta be better at not making me mad, you know?”
Over the years she’d learned to agree with him, so she nodded. She used to believe she was responsible for the anger, but since Wheelie started coming around, she felt differently. Thinking of Wheelie made her smile even though it hurt like hell. He was so attentive, so gentle, and the way he looked at her and kissed her made her feel like a woman again. Tigger hadn’t made love to her in months. It was his way of punishing and controlling her. It used to bother her when he’d withhold sex; it made her think she couldn’t satisfy him anymore. The longer he stayed away from her, the less she wanted him. Then Wheelie had come over when Tigger was away, and he made her feel special.
“What’s going on in your pretty head?”
Her heart leapt in her throat. I have to stop smiling. If he finds out I’m thinking of another man…. Like a true predator, Tigger could smell fear and sense weakness. She couldn’t let her guard down. I shouldn’t have been thinking of Wheelie. Not with Tigger around. She had plenty of time to think about him when Tigger went to the club, which was often.
“Just thinking about how we first met and how happy I am we’re together.” Does he believe me? I think I sounded convincing.
He bent down low and kissed her gently on the mouth. “I love you. You know I do. You’re mine. All mine forever.” She winced and then coughed, tears streaming down her face. “Aren’t the meds helping yet?”
“They will,” she whispered. The truth was they were already working, the sharp soreness having dulled to a constant ache. For the first time since she laid eyes on the handsome, buffed biker, Sofia wished she was with another man—Wheelie.
Wiping her wet cheeks, she mustered a small smile for him.
“That’s my girl. I’ll get you some dinner.”
Biting the inside of her lip, nausea rolled over her, but she knew she’d make herself eat; otherwise, the doting Tigger she’d fallen in love with years before may very well transform into the raging beast from earlier in the day. She wouldn’t survive a second beating so soon.
After they ate, he placed a pillow on his lap and put her head on it. Raking his fingers through her hair, he dipped down and kissed her forehead. “I love you more than anything. I’m never letting you go.” He pulled her hair a little too hard.
Whispers of panic scattered inside her. “I don’t want you to. I love you too.”
Seemingly satisfied with her answer, he brushed the back of his hand over her swollen cheeks. “Want to watch a movie?”
“The meds are starting to work, so just put in a movie you’d like. I’ll probably fall asleep.”
“Good girl.” He bent over and kissed her lips. “If you felt better, I’d fuck you, but we can do it another time. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes.”
He turned on the television and channel-surfed until he landed on a rerun of Rocky. She grimaced and closed her eyes. There’s no way I’m watching men beating each other up. Why do men love boxing? Tigger was obsessed with it and won and lost plenty of money on the games.
As the voices on the screen grew more distant, the pain sensitivity lessened. Tigger ran his fingers up and down her upper arm as she let the little white pills do their job, giving into them. Drifting deeper and deeper, she welcomed the sleep. It was the place where there was no hurt, no fists, no cruelty.
Only dead-silent nothingness.