Page 84 of Redemption

Chapter Forty-Three

Presley

“It took you long enough to get here, Presley. Where’ve you been?”

Sebastian raises a brow in challenge when I eye the door. Adrenaline is coursing through my veins, telling me to run, but how far would I really get? I dropped my keys the moment I realized I wasn’t alone. If I took the time to retrieve them, Sebastian would tackle me in a heartbeat. I decide playing it cool is the best route to take. Maybe, if I can get him to let his guard down, I’ll have a chance to escape.

“When did you get into town?”

Whiskey permeates the air of my small house. When I get a good look at him, it’s clear he’s been drinking for a while.

His lips curve into a cruel smirk. “I’ll answer your question after you answer mine. Where’ve you been, Presley? I’ve been waiting for hours.”

“Clayton asked me to stay late.”

“Liar!” Sebastian roars, shooting off the couch. “Don’t fucking lie to me, you whore! You were with him, weren’t you?”

I casually hang my purse on the hook by the door, trying not to visibly shake as he gets closer. “Who, Sebastian?”

Sebastian’s arm swings out so fast, I don’t even realize his fist is coming at me until it makes contact with my face. I cry out as I’m knocked back into the wall from the force.

“Oh, I’m going to enjoy this,” Sebastian promises, rolling up his shirt sleeves.

It takes a moment before my head stops spinning. When it does, rage fires up within me. This man has taken so much from me over the years: my body, my dignity, my happiness. I refuse to give him any more. My eyes dart around the room, looking for anything I could use as a weapon. When Sebastian sees me eyeballing the lamp, he gets a sinister smile as he pushes it off the table. The moment it hits the ground, we’re plunged into darkness again. I decide to run for it before his eyes have a chance to adjust, but luck’s not on my side because he easily predicts the move.

Sebastian grabs a fistful of my hair and shoves me to the ground. “Get on your knees where you belong, bitch.”

My ears start ringing when he punches me a second time. Blood fills my mouth as the back of my head hits the floor. I groan, blinking through the haze. I refuse to let this man win. I would rather die fighting him off than ever tolerate his abuse again. I focus on breathing, rolling onto my side so I can push myself up.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” he yells. “I’m not done with you.”

“Too bad.” I spit a mouthful of blood on the floor. “Because I’m so fucking done with you, Sebastian.”

“Who knew you were such a kinky slut? I mean, why else would you antagonize me like this? Do you want me to hurt you while I’m fucking you?” He releases a sinister laugh. “Because that can easily be arranged.”

When Sebastian’s fist flies forward again, I actually manage to dodge it this time. Not only that, but I kick his legs out from under him, causing his body to fall to the floor with a satisfying thud. I can’t see very well in the dark, but I’m pretty sure I just shocked the hell out of him.

I run for my purse and grab my phone from the outside pocket. As I’m hitting the call button, Sebastian pushes me from behind, and my cell goes flying across the floor, into the attached kitchen.

“Nice try, Presley. Now, get the fuck on your knees and accept your punishment!”

“Fuck you!” I whirl around on him, slamming my knee into his balls as hard as I can. “You get on your fucking knees, you sick bastard!”

He goes down fast, moaning in pain. My eyes have adjusted in the dark, so as I spot my keys on the living room floor, I scoop them up and run for the door. I freeze when I hear the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Presley.” Sebastian’s hot breath washes over me a second before I feel the cool barrel pressing against my temple. “Unless you want me to paint the walls with your blood.” He grinds his erection into my back and moans. “Fuck, why does the thought of that make me so hard?”

“Because you’re psychotic?” I’m sure the question was rhetorical, but I can’t seem to help myself.

He presses the muzzle into me even further. “Watch your mouth.”

I stare at the door no more than five feet in front of me, rolling my odds of escape around in my head. Sadly, in my current predicament, I don’t think they’re all that favorable. So close, yet so far.

I blow out a breath. “What do you want, Sebastian? It doesn’t have to be like this. Why can’t you just let me go?”

He bands his free arm around my torso, grabbing my breast. I clamp my teeth down on my tongue to avoid crying out.

“I already told you what I want, Presley. You’re going to come back to New York with me, rescind the divorce, and we’re going to pretend like this whole thing never happened.”

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