Eddie had always treated me like a queen.
He was kind, gentle, and romantic. Always putting me first.
Unless we were fucking. Then he was savage, and I loved that side of him too.
But, last night was something else...
Prior to our split, I would have told you that I knew everything there was to know about being a cop’s wife. If tonight’s episode was anything to go by it was that I didn’t know shit.
There were layers to Eddie, scars that ran deep and dark, maybe always had.
Things he had seen, things he had done to protect that won’t ever leave him.
I had been so hell bent on pretending I could handle it myself that I didn’t cue in on his pain.
His need to protect me. His fear of losing me.
I saw it in his eyes, felt it in the strength of his grip, the desperation of his thrusts.
Eddie was afraid.
Which meant I needed to be as well.
Tangled up in him, still lying on the kitchen floor, I promised him, “You’re the boss, I’m the employee.”
Gripping my ass to let me know he heard, I added, “I love you, Eddie.”
And this time, I didn’t need the words.
I felt them just fine.
Eddie had just left with Butch to meet Aaron for cigar night, and the girls would be here soon for happy hour. With only a day left, we were all trying to squeeze in as much time as we could.
God knows we’d miss our friends like crazy.
After a quick FaceTime with Eddie for no other reason than to see him smile, I started scrolling through my Facebook laughing over the comments and well wishes from my relationship status change. While it was safe to say Eddie and I surpassed dating (again), I looked at my finger wondering how long it would take him to tell me we were getting re-married.
The man was seriously impatient.
But with the fresh start we’d been given and the move coming up, all he had to do was say the words, and I’d be there. I would always be there.
So, caught up in my own happy world, imagine my surprise when my back door opened and it wasn’t the girls stepping through. Confused and speechless, I swallowed a few times before I found my voice, “What in the fucksicle are you doing here? How do you even know where I live?”
Glancing down, I saw what looks like a gun pointed at me. “Hand me your phone, we’re leaving.”
Doing as instructed, I tossed it, wondering where we were going and terrified of what would happen when we got there. I married a police officer. So, I reasoned that made me the closest thing to it without the badge, training, service piece, or backup. Still, I knew shit. I knew this was bad. The second I walked out of my door, I was truly screwed.
Dammit, I was a lover not a fighter.
“No,” I choked out as bravely as possible, even adding the customary “Eat a dick” after.
It happened so quickly I had zero time to react once the needle pierced my skin.
Running my fingers over the fucking dart, yes, I said dart, I tried yanking it out, only my fingers didn’t work. “You shot me,” I slurred. “With a fucking dart? Who does that?”
If the son of a bitch answered, I didn’t hear it because I was down for the count.
When I finally managed to open my eyes, I realized I was perched upright in a chair with my wrists tied in my lap.
Still caught in a fog, I did my best to squirm and couldn’t even manage that. I was angry that I was perceived as such a wimp that I wasn’t even tied to anything.
Talk about a blow to the ego.
First thing I did was wiggle my toes, relieved I could feel them. Sore from being out cold, I rolled my neck and instantly regretted it thanks to the vertigo it caused.
Jesus Christ, what was in that dart?
Unsure of my surroundings or how long I was unconscious, I take stock of the room. What I see in the corner, perched on milk crates, steals my breath and no lie, I pissed myself.
Unable to process any of this, I heard from behind me, “So it is true. You really are terrified of small spaces. Now that is precious.”
“How do you know about that?”
“By the camera in your bedroom.”
“I knew it,” I mumbled. “There’s always a camera in the bedroom. Bad Guy 101.”
“Score one for me then.”
Breathing faster than normal, I asked, “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I hate you, Pharis Hilton, and you’re not his anymore. You divorced him, remember?”
“Ellis,” I said groggily but surely. “My name is Pharis Ellis.”
“Except that it isn’t! Not anymore!”
“You’re wrong,” I tried to yell, but it came out as a whisper.
“Stand up!” I’m ordered by way of a gun barrel pressed to my forehead.
Though it took tremendous effort on my part, I did stand and upon testing my legs made a decision.
With no weapon and not even the use of my hands, I called upon the only form of self-defense that I had. Delivering the best sack my years of ball could offer, I tagged the motherfucker with my shoulder and we both went down hard. Unfortunately for me, I couldn’t get back up.
But Casanova could and did. Still, I was primed to fight.
Dragged by my hair, I was hauled up. “Get in.”
“Hell no,” I wheezed out, trying unsuccessfully to back away. “Shoot me!”
“Get in the box!”
“No,” I argued. “Let’s get our fuck on! I’m not done yet!”
“Our what?”
“Ugh,” I groaned. “I’m stressed. You’re stressing me!”
“I don’t have time for this, I have a wedding to attend.”
Blinking and trying to piece it all together I blurted, “Well, you don’t want blood on your dress so maybe you should just go?”
“You are seriously a pain in the ass. I don’t know what he sees in you.”
“Then you weren’t looking hard enough, psycho.”
And that comment earned me a solid punch to my mouth. Having never been socked in the mouth before I can say now that it really hurt and that I felt awful for ever hitting Eddie. “Get in, bitch.”
“Fucking shoot me because I am not getting in there!”
“If I have to ask you again, you won’t like it.”
Stalling for time, I blurted, “Seriously, what are you wearing?” I may be blitzed, but I wasn’t blind.
Striking forward, I felt the needle embed in my stomach and groaned. What was with the fucking tranquilizers? As my consciousness began to fade, I threatened, “Eddie is going to kill you.”
Because the drugs were so strong, being shoved inside was easy considering my hands were tied, and I couldn’t fight. Unable to speak, let alone scream, I lie there praying my heart would give out so I wouldn’t have to endure the darkness. As the lid was closing, my phone was tossed onto my stomach and the last parting words I heard were, “Eddie will know where to find me. Ask Butch.”
And then, nothing.